#and very possibly it will also suck every year for the rest of my life. lmaooo.

[scattered-winter]

crazy how I literally have no energy to do anything ever like isn't that totally wild (my life is literally in shambles)

[simpjaes]

ONE OF THE DAMNED GIRLS PT.1 (P.SH)

Moving to a city with wild nights and charming days felt like the perfect choice in your head upon finishing college. Hours away from home, you accept a job at a local museum ironically placed dead between a large historic cathedral and a booming gothic nightclub. You were meant to curate the art, not be curated yourself by a local priest who found you with buckled knees outside of said goth club. ― part two here!! | MINORS DNI

PAIRING ― vampire park sunghoon x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT ― 20.4k

CONTENT ―  modern vampire sunghoon, cathedral/chapel settings, blasphemous behavior, false holy facades, the main vampire trope i use is the act of drinking blood, luring, and living forever, heavy manipulation and toxic behaviors, mentions of reader being alt/goth

SIDE CHARACTERS―  jungwon as your very very best friend who has an installation at the museum (you guys are attached at the hip), jay as the hot bisexual bartender at the goth club, some goth guy named balor 

!WARNINGS! ― dubious consent (due to the act of mind manipulation), hunting and playing victim, a lot of blood: blood sucking, wounds/puncturing, menstruation in a sexual light, manipulation, near-death experiences, fainting, talk of death, acts of mind control/luring 

NOTE ― here is part one of the first vampire fic i've ever felt compelled to write in my life. shout out to me, myself, and i for being entirely deranged and coming up with on a whim based on a song a lovely anon sent to me. this is semi-proof read, and does require two parts to get the full story.

tags under cut

smut tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic] ― big meat sunghoon, biting, A LOT OF BLOOD, sucking and drinking of blood obv, pussy eating (once while reader is menstruating, and another time where she isn’t), deep penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex bc like…he’s dead so lmfao, missionary, scratching, dirty talk, body worship, praise, jungwon is involved in a bit of an erotic situation but there is not smut involving him, 

other tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic]― depictions of death, anti-religious language, the act of dying including intense descriptions of the feeling, mentions of pimping and human trafficking, corrupt government, dead nuns, funerals

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Upon moving to this city, all you have in your mind is the future. Of what could possibly come of you here? The museum is truly beautiful, propped in the center of the historic district, a mere ten or so blocks from your newly renovated apartment. 

Years worth of study has led you here and honestly you’re sure you never would have found this city as lovable as it is if it weren’t for those credit hours you poured into art history and architecture. Truly, you feel at home here. Especially working within the historic district at that beautiful museum. 

The rest of the city is quite modern. A bit boring to look at if you’re being honest but, thankfully, your place of work offers much for the eye to devour. The museum itself is quite victorian, with rococo styling throughout. Many could call this an eye sore, but you find yourself loving every inch of the place. You feel like a willow wisp in the clutches of that museum, and honestly you’re more than excited to grow bored of seeing such beauty on a day to day basis. 

Across the street sits another old building, also victorian in style. The large and tacky sign glowing with neon lights that reads “AFTER LIFE” goes to show that it’s very clearly a club. And the attire of those who go to and fro through the doors only further proves that it’s more than just that. It’s a goth club. 

Which, arguably, high-school you would’ve died to be able to attend. Thankfully, that little goth girl inside of you still lives strong and surely the club will be a place you’ll frequent during your free time. It’s not too hard to dress the part considering you are an art loser. The majority of your clothing consists of black, colored hair, and wild make up anyway. All you gotta do is forego the ratty coveralls or the typical business quirky you go for at work and you’re good to go. 

Last but not least regarding the charm of the historic district, your favorite site. One that is so profound to you and likely everyone else who visits this town mostly because, well, there isn’t much mention of it on any website regarding the city. In fact, you weren’t aware that such a place existed here until the day you came to view your apartment for the first time. 

Seeing it loom from the apartment window very nearly had you sign the lease without so much as looking at the cabinet space or the bathroom setup. 

No, nothing in that historic district, absolutely nothing in this city, rivals that of the cathedral that towers above both the club and museum. 

There, parked just three blocks down from your place of work, sits the cathedral. Clearly old but well maintained, you can just tell that the building has seen more than enough through the passing decades. The arches are pointed and towering, and the flying buttresses only further your heart to beat with love and admiration for what men could build at one point in time. 

You’ll never understand why the preferred style these days consists of primary shapes, anyway. Boxes, cones, spheres. Never twisting hallways or nooks and crannies to hide in. You miss the depth of which buildings used to be. Inside practically a maze, outside a wondrous presentation of knife-sharp features. So intricate, so many lines to trace.

What a shame to find yourself living in a space that’s a mish-mash of perfect boxes, but it’s not so bad when the window offers a daydream, at least. 

You’re in love each time you gaze upon the building, actually. It’s a forever reminder that no human being on this earth could make you feel such excitement. Perhaps you’re just a nerd for gothic architecture though. Honestly, it’s a shame that this cathedral seems to be a forgotten gem despite how it’s blatantly visible at almost any view point in the city. 

Fortunately for you, this only goes to show that the historic district is just that. There for those who admire, and not for those who gawk. There seems to be rarely any stray humans making their way down this street without at least an inkling of interest in the ancient life that’s been breathed here. 

If anything, the streets are filled with what you can assume to be open-minded individuals. Your first day at work showed that much. Tattooed bodies, pierced faces, wild hair, even wilder attire. Yes, you feel right at home. 

And despite the excitement of living in a new city where you seem to fit like a puzzle piece, life can still grow boring after a certain amount of time has passed. For you, it’s taken about three weeks of training, well-slept nights, and cozy days. 

Even through the summer, the nights still have a chill in the air. Which is nice but even your night-time walks have become an auto-pilot task that offers nothing new to your forever hungry brain. So, with the weekend fast approaching, you figure there’s no better time than now to dust off those hot platform boots you bought on a whim years ago and have yet to wear. 

You’re going to the booming “after life”. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well.

“After life” is certainly a perfect name for the club if the intensity of the drinks alone is anything to go by. Inside is adorned with stark black walls and silver trim, loads upon loads of purple and red curtains, women and men near-nude wrapped in straps and chains. 

It only took two drinks to see the black painted walls as a beautiful void in space with wonderful dancing bodies falling into it. You can’t stop smiling through the warmth in your cheeks and dancing to deep bass with husky voiced music. Your arms stay in the air as you dance, and you welcome any dancing partner up until your third drink. 

God, the drinks are strong. Or perhaps it’s just the specific drink you’ve grown partial to. One they call “Red Death”, which according to the handsome bartender, was quite popular in the 90s. You see exactly why it was so popular, considering it basically hit you like a fucking truck in the middle of this club and has you stumbling out the front door without so much as remembering why your feet are moving in the first place. 

Unsure of how much time has passed since you got here, you nearly forget the extra five inches under your feet as you stumble your way through the heavy doors in front of the club. A kind bouncer with the whites of his eyes tattooed helps you with your balance as you step out, chuckling and noting that you’re definitely new here.

His strong hold on you is kind and gentle compared to the bouncers outside of the clubs back home, and despite how drunk you are, you still feel as safe as you do inside of your own apartment when he gives you a small “woah there.”

Thankfully, he keeps to himself after helping you regain balance, once again unlike most bouncers at clubs. You’re left to your own drunken plans now as you wobble around the building in search of a bench to sit on and sober up. Thankfully, that very bench is found sitting lonely on the backside of the building. You can still hear the muffled music from inside, but you’re currently spinning and able to hear just about anything, you think. 

You hear your ass thump to the ground when you try to take a seat, missing the bench completely and falling a full two feet with your head hitting the bricked wall behind you. 

Honestly, all you can do is laugh at yourself as you hold your head. The fall didn’t hurt, and thank fuck no one is around to have witnessed that from you. To think your senses are enhanced at this moment is quite a feat, considering you were so focused on hearing everything that you completely forgot to determine which of the two benches in your drunken vision was the real one.

And as you accept your seat on the ground as the space you’ll sober up in, your senses prove yet again to at least be slightly more amplified than usual. 

A heavy scent of cinnamon wafts through your nose as you breathe in the brisk summer air and immediately you try to adjust your eyes to whatever the scent is coming from. Or, whoever.

Then, a cold hand on your shoulder. You didn’t even see him before smelling or feeling him, but somehow, your vision adjusts immediately as if you’re not drunk at all.

In fact, looking at the man is entirely sobering. 

“Child, temptation has you by the throat.”

“I’m no child.” You scoff at the voice reaching your ears, frustrated as you try to chase the fizzling drunk feeling. A waste of money, you could say, to lose the dizzy feeling so fucking fast. 

The man stands in front of you, clad in black, offering a gentle smile. 

You can imagine you look a mess, sitting on the ground outside of a night club, but that should be expected you’d think. 

“It’s a figure of speech.” The man shrugs with a chuckle. “Now, now. Allow me to help you, my dear, you are in no shape to be left to your own devices.”

You look up at him, noting that the man appears to be a priest. What kind of priest wanders around goth clubs this time of the night? 

Then again, you don’t even know what time it is. What you do know is that you’re nearly entirely sober now for some fucking reason, and you absolutely can be left to your own devices. 

“No, I’m fine. I don’t live too far.” You shake your head at him, but he pulls you up anyway. 

Oh, a rush of woozy nausea. Your ankles buckle immediately upon trying to stand and the man simply keeps his smile aimed at you. 

“My conscience will not allow me to leave you be.” He says, taking your arm and leading you further down the street.

You’re unsure as to why you don’t fight him on it now. There’s a feeling in your body that tells you to go with him, and who are you to fight it? 

Strangely enough, your eyes sparkle as he leads you straight to that very cathedral that floods your thoughts on most weekdays during work. So big, so beautiful, so otherworldly to see so closely. 

You stare up at the towering building even as he helps you through the doors, and then your eyes immediately adjust to the vaulted ceilings and darkened stained glass windows with only the moonlight shining through. 

God, it’s more beautiful inside. 

You’re entirely mesmerized by the building, blinking up at every inch of the walls and ceiling. It’s pristine inside compared to the outside, and the floors shine so beautifully even in the low-light. Your boots stomp with each step against the well-maintained floors, to the point you can feel the vibrations running from your toes to the top of your head. 

You can feel your skin tighten at the viewing experience, every hair on your body raising in euphoria, pupils growing wide and dark. You smile, feeling your face flush as if you’ve got a man between your legs. There is no man though though, no. Just big arches and echoed footsteps.

It’s simply too beautiful to comprehend with a semi-drunken brain for the first time. 

The man saunters through the building with you in tow a bit too quickly than you’d prefer though. You try to soak in the image of the main chapel before he leads you away from it, and thankfully you caught a decent look at the gold and silver adornments surrounding a centered altar. The figure within the altar didn’t quite get more than a glance, but you could have sworn it was no religious figure that you know the name of. 

And then, within three blinks, you’re in a corridor where whispering nuns look on. Their voices sound high-pitched even in a whisper but it slows your heart rate down to that of near sleep. Drowsiness overtakes you as you blink out of sync, barely able to comprehend that you should be at home rather than in this wondrous and magnificent building with a strange priest. 

Still, even as the corridor grows less and less extravagant, where the stomping of your boots on the floor turns to that of breaking up dust and weighing down creaking wood, you find it all the more beautiful behind your heavy-lidded eyes.

The deeper into the cathedral you go, the older it becomes. Where electricity turns to candles, and then candles turn to pure moonlight shining through stained glass windows. 

Even up the spiraling concrete stairs, you feel your feet carry you more than the priest with his back turned to you. He wouldn’t need to lead you through this building at all, as the feeling in your gut would likely have you explore the place inch by inch if you were given the permission. 

Still, even while your mind is sober but your body is drunk, you find it hard to believe that people still reside here. Never once seeing anyone come from the cathedral since being in this city. And trust, you have honestly stared at it day after day during work. 

That means nothing to you now though, considering you’re inside the building, being led to a small room for sleep where your sleepy eyes devour the small bed against the wall.

The man who led you here lends no more words or thoughts to you as he steps inside, presents the room to you, and then quickly leaves with that same smile he gave you outside of the club. 

A nun replaces him with light and silent footsteps, running past you to fluff the flattened pillow on the bed. Another came in behind her with a small bowl of crackers and a glass of water. She holds out the bowl and glass, urging you to take them from her. 

Naturally, you do. Popping a cracker into your mouth and instantly feeling it soak up any saliva in your mouth, leaving it feeling dry and sore before you sip the water. And with a nod from the two nuns, they leave you be. 

This room appears to be that for refuge, surely for those the church takes in when they’re in need of a warm bed and some food. 

You smile, saying nothing as you sit down on the bed and place the glass and bowl on the small ledge by the window. There, you take off your boots and flop back without so much as sinking under the thin covers, and you fall asleep as if there’s nowhere else on this earth you’d rather be. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The sun feels warm against your face when you stir from your slumber. Your eyes feel heavy though, so you simply lay here and breathe in the strange heavy air. Your eyebrows furrow at the feeling of the bed beneath you. Stiff, hard, uncomfortable. Clearly, you’re not at home. 

And, well, that’s when the happenings of last night dawn on you. You can barely comprehend what the helpful priest looked like, better yet how long it took for your feet to carry you to this room.

When you open your eyes and squint to look out of the stained window, most of the city is distorted through the tinted colors, but you can tell that you’re quite high up in the building. Then again, the throbbing in your feet could have probably told you that. 

Still, sitting in this bed now feels much more uncomfortable than it did when you initially laid down. Your head pounds as you pinch the bridge of your nose, squinting around the room and trying to grasp your memory. 

The only thing you remember is the cold hand that guided you here and every beautiful inch of the cathedral. Which can only mean, you have no fucking idea how to get out of here.

Oh, the horror and embarrassment of needing to search for someone to help you leave feels unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Surely, if you’re silent with your feet, you can search the halls until you manage to find a back door, right? At least the route would be scenic and interesting if you can manage it.

And, well, you do try. Searching for a staircase the moment you leave your room simply because you know that the only way home is down at least a hundred steps. Strangely enough, your instincts seem to know exactly where to go. 

Somehow.

Your socked feet carry you straight downstairs and to the main cathedral. You weren’t necessarily expecting to find a room full of people upon entering the space either. After all, if it were Sunday perhaps you’d have to drag your hungover ass past a crowd participating in Sunday mass. 

Despite never seeing a soul enter this cathedral save for yourself and that priest. 

Weird, there are a few people with bowed heads sitting in the pews of the main chapel. All appear to be clad in black and gold, one or two others with silver. Not entirely cloaked but still incredibly eerie from behind as you look on with each silent foot step. 

And suddenly, your body freezes. 

There, at the center of the altar stands a stoic man. Posture so straight you could argue he is nothing but an ancient statue. Behind him, you note that there is an actual statue of a figure standing much the same, far too distant to make out the face of. 

Only for a moment do you recall glancing at the statue from the night before, noting how it resembled no god nor deity that you’re aware of. It doesn’t even resemble a human the longer you stare at it, actually.

Ah. Yes. The vibes in this cathedral are off. From your feet somehow knowing the place as if it’s your own home to the silent chapel bowing their heads to an even more silent man standing frozen in the center. If at all, you feel like you’ve been caught in a photo, stuck with your feet on this single tile with the front doors just out of your reach. 

That is, until one of those whispering nuns makes her way to you, tapping your shoulder with a nod and a very quiet, “Shall I see you out?” 

And she does, opening the large doors for you and closing them behind you without so much as a sound. 

Strange, because you remember the echo of those doors closing from the night before. But whatever, you guess, as you’re assaulted with the bright afternoon sun forcing your eyes to tear up. 

You take a step through the flash-bang of summer air, slowly adjusting your eyesight to the very museum you work at. Bustling with your co-workers who are made to work this weekend, you try to avoid being seen. After all, as a new employee, the last thing you need is to be perceived as a hungover mess while walking out of that weird fucking cathedral with nothing more than socked feet and a pair of stompers held against your chest.

And so, you make the short trek home, thankful for the walkable city but entirely unthankful for the charming weather your realtor promised for this time of the year. It’s fresher than you’d like for it to be outside today, the warm sun keeping you at a perfect temperature while the cold breeze offers a shiver here and there. 

You’re not sure why it pisses you off. It’s probably the headache that only pounds harder and harder with each step you take. 

Finally, you make it to your apartment. You feel cold when you step inside the lobby and make your way up. Somehow you feel even colder when find yourself at the window, gazing at the same cathedral you just spent the night in, looking hazy in the afternoon sun. 

It looms there in the city, with its elder rooted walls and pointed arches. Still so beautiful, still so mysterious, still so fucking luring. 

Even after sleeping there, and even after you felt the vibrations inside skew your comfort, it stands out not only in the city, but in your brain. With the modern city only forcing it to stick out like a sore thumb, you can argue that the city could be just as old and still that cathedral would offer a shiver down your spine. 

Your head pulses at the sunlight shining through your window, forcing your eyes from the darkened haunt, and you’re quick to make your way to the kitchen to rummage for something to help with the headache. 

And by the time you flop down on your couch, you drift back to sleep, realizing that you’re not entirely sure if you slept at all the night before. Despite waking up, despite not remembering a thing from after you laid down, and despite feeling rejuvenated in every aspect aside from sleep. 

That rejuvenation strangely drains you more as you drift to sleep, finding it so unnatural that you willingly slept in a maze filled with no face you can put a name to.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Making your first friend feels good. Weeks worth of pretending and hoping you and your co-workers would somehow become besties outside of the museum walls fell short, after all. Not that you don’t consider them friends, it’s more so just the fact that they’re all a bit too stoic and up-tight for you. 

You’re quite a bit younger as well. You can tell that they lost their spark for creating art years ago, if they ever even created it in the first place, anyway. It’s all just curating, curating, curating for them. An eye for beauty only, which is respected and appreciated but still, no eye for fun outside of these walls though. 

That’s where Jungwon comes in. A young artist with first-installation jitters dimpling his cheeks as he offers the smallest “hello” that you think you’ve ever heard from another person. 

He’s similar to you in the way he dresses. He works hard, amazing you with each piece of his collection that’s pulled from a tightly packed box, filled with bubble wrap and slammed with “FRAGILE” stickers. 

Arguably, you don’t need to be friends with your co-workers when you have artists like him coming in and out every few months. He’s quite lively, very excited, and almost clumsy in the way he carries himself. 

You were endeared with him the moment you met him and honestly just three days in, the two of you are practically attached at the hip as you push and work hard alongside him to set up the installation as perfectly as possible for the following weekend. 

And, well, the first showing went off without a hitch. His smiling face could have been seen for miles, you think, as you watch him mingle and blush at each compliment and critique of his work.

So bright. 

So full of life.

The exact person you’d want to be around. 

“Jungwon–” You elbow him in the side as he nods and shakes hands through each farewell while the museum comes to its close for the night. “It’s Friday.” You smile. 

He nods you off, paying close attention to each face that came to visit his work. And only when the halls are empty does he make his way back to you with a deep exhale and a loud, relieved groan. 

“Finally.” He huffs, blowing a strand of his hair up and into the air. “Just fifty nine more days to go.” 

You roll your eyes fondly at him already counting down until the two of you are scheduled to take down his work. 

“You do know you only need to be here for opening night, right?” You laugh.

“Well, yeah.” He shrugs. “But it’s my first installation, I worry some kid will come wipe his snotty nose all over my hard work.” 

You chuckle, he chuckles, and then you turn to face him. 

“So, it’s Friday.” 

He bounces on his feet. 

“Yeah, glad to see you seem to grasp the idea of fleeting time and whatnot.” He looks at you with a mischievous smile. “What about it?”

“We should go out. The club across the street has really strong drinks for half the price as most places.” 

You watch as Jungwon’s eyes shine when they flick behind you to glance out the window. Then his face falls, his eyebrow raises, and he tilts his head. 

“You do realize we’ve been here for like, eighteen hours straight, right?” 

You nod casually with a shrug.

“I live super close by, if we get tired, you can just crash on my couch.” 

He pretends like he thinks it over for more than two seconds before ultimately accepting the offer of fun. 

“Cool. Wanna meet me there in an hour? I should probably change and stuff first.” 

You eye over his outfit, and then give yourself a quick glance. 

“Good plan.” You smile, backing away and throwing your bag over your shoulder. “An hour. Be there.” 

You both nod in agreement and go your separate ways. Sleepy, but entirely willing to celebrate Jungwon’s huge accomplishment with drinks that have already proven to be too strong. 

The hour passes quickly, wearing that same pair of boots for a second time now that you have the perfect place and reason to stomp around in them. This time, you even go as far as darkening your lips and smearing your mascara just a smidge. After all, you’re definitely gonna get drunk and your makeup will be smeared by the end of the night regardless. 

You gasp upon seeing Jungwon’s chosen attire, offering him an “Ooooh” the second you walk up to him. He had been leaning against the front doors of the museum, as if he’s simply an on looker and not a working artist with a top-notch showcase within those walls. 

He lends you a matching “Ahhhh” upon seeing your chosen outfit. Both of you somehow match in a way that makes this appear more like a date night rather than friends getting drinks. Which is kind of cute and a welcomed idea if the two of you have one to many and accidentally start making out or something. 

It feels platonic enough to laugh off in the morning, anyway. And really, while his boots don’t lend him extra height, he stomps around in them much like you do your own. With his black knit sweater littered in frays and pulled yarn, and his hair intentionally messed up. 

“Wonnie,” You offer the nickname easily as you grab onto his arm and check the street for cars before beginning to cross. “I think some eyeliner could finish off your look.” You laugh as the two of you practically prance with heavy boots to the club. 

He smiles at the nickname, hiding his face only slightly in his sweater when he blinks back at you with sparkly eyes. 

“Really?” He smiles, dimples on full display for the tattooed bodies lined up outside, already checking out the artist. 

“Yeah, oh–” You huff, digging in your small shoulder bag. “I have some, let’s do the finishing touch.” 

And when the two of you stand at the back of the line, you do just that. Carefully holding his cheek in one hand and lining the lower lashes on his left eye. 

He doesn’t even close his eyes, and instead looks up into the night sky with that same dimple showing. Blinking every few seconds at the sensitivity, ignoring the fact that his eyes start to prickle at the feeling. 

“It tickles,” He chuckles in a hushed whisper, never having a friend be so close to his face like this before. “How do you manage to do this every day?”

“I guess you just get used to it after a while.” You focus on the way the darkened color brings his eye to seem more catty than it already was, taking your thumb and swiping the bottom lid to smear the charcoal makeup.

You note how innocent and shining his other eye looks compared. Nevertheless, you go to rest your hand on his other cheek now.

Just for a moment, his eyes flash down to look at you. So, so close to his face. Instantly, you lend him a pause and your own smile. 

“You’re blushing.” You laugh, holding your hand steady in wait as he shifts his weight to the other leg out of natural nervousness. 

“Sorry,” He whispers out, blinking frantically to prepare for his other eye to tickle. “I’m not used to being this close to someone.”

Ah, you don’t believe that for a second.

“Look up.” You instruct, already lining his other lashes. “Feels like I’m putting the finishing touches to a masterpiece.” You add in a lame chuckle, feeling a little flustered yourself the more you note how his eyes water at the tickle. They shine so pretty.

He laughs out at your comment, a hand shooting to your wrist as you smear the liner on him. Not to be intimate or anything, just simply to steady your hand more.

“I guess I am kinda the canvas like this, huh?” He comments, standing as still as he can while looking up at the moon. “Hey–”

“Hm?” You say, pulling your hand back now and doing the same with your thumb to smear the make up into perfection on his flawless little face. 

“What kind of gum is that?” He asks, blinking a few times before adjusting his eyes properly and pretending like he can’t feel the waxy substance caked on his lashes. 

“Just regular spearmint.” You give him a half smile. “Why, you want a piece?” 

He nods, mostly because if he had known you were going to get this close to his face, he probably would have already had some type of candy in his mouth.

Again, it’s not like he has feelings or anything. It’s just, well, it’s always intimate to have someone so close to you. In your space. Your bubble. No one ever gets that close unless they want to kiss. Or, he guesses, if they’re putting eyeliner on you. 

“You look really cute,” You comment now, stepping back after giving him a piece of gum and looking over how the smeared makeup really does complete his look. “Should’ve brought one of my chokers too. Now that, yeah.” 

“Huh?” He tilts his head as the two of you move up the line. “You’re really into this kind of scene aren’t you?”

You nod shyly. 

“Was a total mall goth back when I was a teenager. I would’ve stalked you around the mall if you looked like this back then, really. Totally my type.”

He lends a bashful blink and a half-hearted laugh, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking to the ground. 

“Well, when I was a teenager I looked like the person who invented calculus.” 

“And now you’re just a little work of art, huh?” You continue the cringey art-jokes, mostly because you like the way he tries to pretend they’re funny rather than utterly horrifying. 

And he does smile at it, ears flowing with heat as he blushes. He probably wouldn’t feel so shy if it weren’t for the fact that he also heard compliments all day about his art. He’s a bit sensitive right now.

“I guess so.” He accepts your compliment like all the others, lifting his shoulder to his cheek with a squinted eye. It’s nice to feel like the world’s favorite person for a night, truly.

And the conversation is even easier from here on out. Albeit, a bit flirty but it stills platonic enough to where the two of you are just…in a comfortable little bubble surrounded by faces you don’t know. Perhaps playing the part of being two individuals who came to a club together rather than separately and alone. 

As the hours pass, there are several strangers approaching the two of you. Words of “need a third?” and “well aren’t you two just fucking perfect?” 

Jungwon basks in it, snickering quietly with you but never denying a single accusation. The two of you play along. Drinking, dancing, and then more drinking. Up until Jungwon decides he’s held his bladder long enough and is off in search of a bathroom while you make your way to the bar. 

For more drinks, of course. Not to hit on the bartender you met the first time you came here.

“Another red death?” The man with inky red hair smiles at you, already grabbing a glass and starting your drink. 

“Yes but, can I actually–” You pause, glancing at the other man behind the bar. 

Red haired man laughs knowingly with a nod and a side eye before pointing silently at his co-worker and raising a brow at you.

You nod back, dipping your face only slightly when you see him take two steps back and whisper to the man. 

Instantly, you feel a bit more shy over asking to be served by this guy but goddamn. His dark hair looks slightly damp when his eyes glance to you upon whatever is being whispered in his ear, probably from something spewing in his face after being shaken up, or perhaps from sweat. 

You try to avoid eye contact under the man’s gaze when he walks over and in front of you. Sharp jaw, silver chain, loose black t-shirt revealing equally as damp collar bones.

God. The shirt is sticking to him. 

“Babe, my eyes are up here.” He laughs, holding an empty cup and leaning on the bar towards you. “Had a little too much to drink again?” 

You nod, dazed by his dark eyes before immediately shaking your head. 

“Red death, please. Two of them.” 

The man nods with a knowing smile. 

“I saw that you came here with someone.” 

He’s flirting. Mostly for tips but it’s not like he hasn’t been known to take people home from work before so, wherever it goes is where it goes for him. 

“Jay, can you grab me the-” The red haired bartender says from behind, and Jay, presumably, hands him a bottle without so much as letting him finish the sentence. 

“He’s cute.” Jay continues talking to you, enjoying the way you don’t realize how you fold in on yourself. “Any reason as to why you asked me to make your drink?”

“Um, oh,” You were gonna be bold, but you feel Jungwon suddenly clinging to you from behind, eyeing the bartender just like you are. “I just think you make them better.” 

“Did he just say I’m cute?” Jungwon whispers behind your ear, watching the man’s hands as he makes the drinks with expert knowledge. 

“You’re both cute.” The bartender smirks, looking between both of you and then offering a wink. “This round is on me.” He adds, sliding both cups forward and brushing your hand just for a moment before turning his attention to someone else. 

Honestly, it’s like you and Jungwon are the same person at this moment when you grab your drinks and you turn to face each other. 

Both of you, bouncing on your feet with whispered squeals over the hot bartender including both of you in the compliment. 

“Oh my god.” You stare forward, tasting the drink and noting that there somehow seems to be more alcohol in this one. “He’s so–”

Jungwon nods to you excitedly, sipping his drink quickly before glancing behind you and meeting the eye of the bartender again. 

“He was just looking at your ass.” He comments, flipping his body to cling to your arm and now turning his back to Jay “You think he’s gonna check mine out too?”

You nod with a snicker, the song changing and the tempo instantly drowning your thoughts. 

“I love this song!” You shout with drunken glee, already making your way from the bar but keeping that little thought that hopefully, Jay will keep glancing at the two of you simply because it’s fun to be watched by a hottie. 

And Jungwon just goes with your flow. Dancing with sticky sweet lips, eyes glazed over from the music and mood. His makeup looks more beautiful now paired with strands of his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. 

You don’t think you’ve ever seen dimples so fucking deep before, and it’s almost painful to remember his face without that smile plastered on it. 

“Wonnie,” You grab him by the shoulder and pull him against you, ignoring how his hair dips into your drink for a moment. “I think you’re my best friend.”

And the way he pulls back with a gasp, smiling wider? It shatters your heart just so it can grow larger. 

“I am?” He does a little bounce through his dance move, eyes shining in the strobe lights, flashes of red and purple shading his cheeks, only deepening those dimples. “Really?”

Never have you enjoyed spending time with someone like this. Never without crushing hard, never without wanting to take them home and fuck them until you can’t walk. Jungwon is different though. He really does feel like a long lost best friend, like the part of you that has been missing for far too long. 

The moment you met him, you clicked in a way that didn’t involve a dick or a hole. I mean, sure you’d probably fuck him for funsies but there’s really no point in it because you feel perfectly happy, perfectly fulfilled, just having him spend his free time with you. 

Surely when he has to travel back home, you’re going to cry. 

“Why do you have to live so far away?” You pause your dancing, making yourself sad at the thought that he will only be here for a few weeks. “Who am I gonna hang out with when you leave?”

Jungwon lends you a pouty sound, a coo, almost. 

“I only live an hour away.” He laughs, leaning forward and plastering his sweaty forehead to yours with a slurred shout so you can hear him clearly. “I’ll come see you all the time!” 

And with that, the mood seeps right back into your veins as the smile overtakes you. 

You dance with him, forehead to forehead for a long, long, while. Up until the club is so crowded with people that Jay couldn’t possibly be paying attention to anything other than making drinks, and you couldn’t possibly pay attention to anything other than the music vibrating the alcohol in your stomach. 

It’s almost suffocating, as you feel a pang in your chest of overheated anxiety. You breathe in, smelling the fifth piece of gum that Jungwon slipped from your pocket on his breath. You exhale, smelling your own sweet alcohol breath before pulling back and dragging Jungwon by the hand into the only corner not packed with people. 

“You okay?” Jungwon slurs as he sways in front of you, eyes trying their best to seem concerned. “You look like you might get sick.” 

You nod, feeling your mouth fill with warm saliva indicating that you should probably go to the bathroom now. 

“Okay, lets get you to-” 

You cut Jungwon off with an off balance sprint to the bathroom and somehow he keeps pace with you, gripping your shirt and refusing to lose you in the crowd. 

Unfortunately, as you press on your stomach to somehow hold down whatever is trying to come up, you notice how there’s a very long line for the bathroom. 

And it’s still suffocating in here. 

And your mouth tastes too sweet. And the music is too loud.

“Let’s go outside!” Jungwon shouts against your ear, vibrating your brain as he navigates you through the crowd himself, pressing you up against the front doors of the club before pushing you outside with him close behind.

The waft of breezy summer air instantly fills your lungs and your stomach settles at the space you have to yourself now. 

You stumble forward, making your way around the same concerned bouncer from before who only smiles at you and Jungwon struggling to find your footing. 

And, like the best friend you knew he became, he tries his best to be the sober friend right now. His voice wavers and crackers when he speaks, but his hands are firm on both of your shoulders as he presses you against the wall behind you. 

“Stay here.” Jungwon says with concern still in his voice. “I’m gonna run back in and get us some water, okay?” 

And you nod in a daze as your eyes follow him when he disappears back inside. You note how he says something to the bouncer before opening the doors, and surely he simply asked that the guy keep an eye on you. 

“You should probably eat something soon, sweetheart.” The kind bouncer comments to you in the night air, stepping closer to you and standing just against the wall next to you.

You feel protected by him, so there are no alarm bells ringing. 

“You know I can’t let you back in, right?” He chuckles as he speaks to you calmly. 

“Oh, I bet.” You laugh, breathing in the air again and again, still not regretting the fun you’ve had for the past few hours. “Just gonna sit here and wait for Wonnie, he’ll help me get home.”

“Good, good.” The bouncer confirms your words, still standing protective next to you when you hear the doors fly open and a few seconds of booming music before it’s muffled again. 

Jungwon flops down in front of you on the sidewalk now, two water bottles in hand with a smile on his face. 

“Jay gave me these.” He smiles. “He said if we can handle waiting til closing time he can drive us home.”

You laugh sheepishly. Unfortunately, you’re a bit too drunk and you know you probably wont make it another hour and a half with an additional however much time it’ll take for him to close up the club before needing to pass the fuck out. 

“I think I’ll have to take him up on that next time.” You slur your words. “You’ll help me walk home right, Wonnie? It’s a short walk.” 

Jungwon nods, still doing his best to act as sober as he can, but the bouncer shuts him down fast.

“Oh, I don’t think so buddy.” The bouncer laughs. “You’re both fucked out of your mind.” 

You laugh, Jungwon laughs, and the bouncer throws in his own hearty sigh. 

“Fuck–” You have a sudden, sober thought. “The tab. Jungwon, did we pay the tab?”

He pauses, eyes widening. 

“Shit.” He explains before jumping up on unsteady feet. “Can you help her call for a ride?” He slurs out at the bouncer, only disappearing inside again when the kind goth nods at the request.

And as you sit here in the silence after the bouncer helps you order a ride, a few minutes pass. Your eyes are out of focus as you stare up into the night sky before closing them. 

You could fall asleep right here on the sidewalk if you’re not careful. 

Another few minutes pass, now a loud slam of the doors rings in your tired ears now and you jolt out of the drowsy state, opening your eyes thinking you’ll find Jungwon rushing to you but instead, you note how suddenly you’re entirely alone. 

You don’t know how long you’ve sat here, or where the bouncer went, better yet why Jungwon isn’t back yet but what you do know is that suddenly, you’re mind is sober and fucking assaulted by the smell of cinnamon.

You glance around, trying to focus on the scent and where it’s coming from when– oh.

There, walking down the sidewalk is that fucking priest from before. Tall, clad yet again in black clothes, and he simply pauses his step in front of you. 

“Again?” The man calls out to you with an amused voice, lending you his hand, but you don’t take it. 

Instead, the doors suddenly fly open and Jungwon stumbles out again, nearly tripping over his own feet with an apology of “sorry, jay was trying to convince us to–”

“Uh, hi?” Jungwon interrupts himself as he takes note of the man standing in front of you. “The fuck are you?” He checks the man out, not quite able to focus on him in full.

The priest nods his head at both of you, staring Jungwon up and down before landing his eyes back on you. 

“Get her home safe.” He says nothing else before continuing his nightly stroll. 

And, well, you do get home safe. 

You and Jungwon are a mess of limbs in the short ride to your apartment, and an even messier pile of idiots by the time you make it inside. The couch is long forgotten by the time you close your front door, feeling Jungwon follow you all the way to your plush bed with drunken groans and giggles.

There, you flop onto the bed fully clothed without so much as a happy “goodnight” and you’re both drifting off to sleep. Jungwon’s heavy limbs are thrown on you as he loosely spoons you. Like he’s still trying to take care of you despite the fact that you no longer feel sick, and you’re both perfectly safe behind your apartment walls. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Have you no shame? 

Fuck no. 

What about Jungwon? Nah.

Both of you have a pep in your step by the next Friday, waiting for the museum to close so Jungwon can walk home with you and get all dressed up and ready for another fall into the infamous “after life”.

“We should try to stay until closing, maybe Jay will bring us home this time.” Jungwon wiggles his eyebrows as you put his eyeliner on for him again. 

“We’re gonna have to look real good then, yeah?” You smile at his pretty smeared eyes, reaching your hand up and ruffling his hair.

And you do. Both of you dress up in the darkest, blackest, sexiest fit you can find in your closet. Jungwon is sporting one of your pretty, sheer lace undershirts beneath his own unbuttoned black cardigan, pants tight and low on his waist. 

You, with another semi-transparent shirt. Sheer, showing all the goods if you hadn’t put on a nice fitting bralette under it. Cute skirt that shows your thighs, the stompers, of course. 

And the finishing touch this time? Matching chokers. 

“Cute.” You comment, leaning forward and popping a minty kiss to the tip of Jungwon’s nose. 

“You too.” He smiles, pinching your waist before turning to face your vanity mirror and checking himself out. 

Cute is right. Jay’s probably gonna fall to the floor when he gets a look at the two of you. 

And, well. The night is a blur. 

Jay does, in fact, eye the two of you with that sharp smirk like he did last weekend but you, unfortunately, drink far too much yet again. 

Jungwon slowed down a bit towards midnight but he kept an eye on you for the most part. Trying to secure the ride for both of you by orbiting around the bar and making flirty talk with both bartenders when time allowed it. 

You stayed on the dance floor through it. Sometimes dancing with Jungwon when he comes up behind you with clingy hands and updates on the Jay situation, but after a few songs he’d wander off again. 

It’s nice, kind of. Having someone with you that can maintain control through your own drunken stupidity. You don’t mind dancing alone, after all, you’re not entirely alone giving the pretty men and girls who come by to dance with you every other song when Jungwon isn’t around.

And of course, around the same time as last time, you find your mind feeling suffocated by the time the club is at capacity. 

You sway on the dance floor in search of Jungwon, unsure of which way the bar is because your eyes simply can’t adjust to the darkness and flashing lights by this point. 

Dimples. You need to find the sunshine face in this void of darkness. 

And you search. 

And search. 

Until you’re stumbling out the front doors alone, knowing that if Jungwon is looking for you, he’ll probably know you stepped out to breathe at some point. 

Just like the week before, the crip summer air outside instantly settles your stomach and breathing comes easier. You feel more sober than you thought you were as you sit here, making small talk with the bouncer who finally introduces himself to you. 

“That’s a good name for a big goth teddy bear.” You mock the man. “Balor.”

“In the flesh.” The man waves you off. 

And then, suddenly, the bouncer is stepping closer to you with a stiffened shoulder, the air outside shifting to something else for him, but you’re completely unaware of it. 

“I need to step inside for a moment, will you be alright for a few minutes?” He knows he shouldn’t step inside, but in all fairness, it’s kind of the protocol at this point. 

Considering that man has made himself very clear that if he’s near the club at all, it’s for good reason and he’s not to be interrupted. At least, that’s what code is for the bouncers here at this club. 

It’s a shame though, to know he has to leave you to the night. You’re a fun girl, peppy and sweet, not rude or hard to make small talk with on the long nights of work. Maybe you drink a little too much, but still. It’s not like the bouncer knows why he is to leave the sidewalk when a certain someone wanders by. What he does know is that more often than not, he’ll sink away inside only to resume his position alone, with no one left on the sidewalk.

Probably just a pimp. 

Or human trafficking. 

He isn’t sure, but time and time again he has been told to leave it be. That it’s nothing wretched. That it’s simply a territory that isn’t their own. 

Still, you nod to the bouncer. 

“If you see Wonnie, can you scold him for letting me get lost?” 

You miss the look of concern on the bouncer’s face. 

“Hey, come back inside, I’ll help you find him.”

“Oh, hello again.” A voice echoes from around the corner, causing the bouncer’s shoulders to fall as he immediately offers you a small “I'll find him–” before disappearing behind the heavy doors with haste. 

And then, cinnamon. The spicy scent wafting through you so fast that you’re almost dizzy. 

More dizzy than you already were, anyway.

“Have you learned nothing?” The priest walks up to you, chuckling and raising his eyebrows. 

“Weird ass priest.” You say, paying no mind to the happenings of just now, totally unaware of the energy surrounding you.

“And to what god do you believe I pray?” He tilts his head as he stands in front of you, hands behind his back, leaning down at the waist to position his face in front of yours. 

The question makes you look up at him with a skewed brow. 

“The usual one?” You ask, rolling your eyes at the silly meeting. 

Again.

A third meeting. 

“Ah, the usual one.” He mocks, nodding his head before standing back up and towering over you. “Do you seek him out?” 

You nod momentarily, having never been religious but at this moment, as drunk as you are and as alone as you feel with this strange man, only god could answer your curious question as to why you keep meeting him. 

As to why you’re always all on your own when he appears. 

As to why he forces a hope in your mind that god is really out there, and he’ll protect you when the bouncer isn’t here.

“Was that a nod?” He smiles at you, landing a cold hand on your shoulder. 

“Yes,” You whisper out, feeling heavy and more and more dizzy by the moment. Not from the alcohol but from something else. “Do you know where I can find him?” 

Your voice calls out on its own to him. You don’t recall wanting to ask him that, nor do you recall even thinking those words before saying them.

“He’s right here, love–” The priest pulls back, presenting the space in front of him before turning his hands inward and presenting himself to you. “I am God.”

You freeze, a rush of cold running through your veins. Surely you’re hearing him wrong despite that voice echoing those words in your head three, four, five, six times. 

“Isn’t that considered blasphemy?” You try to play it off in a joke, hiding the chill down your spine. 

Pretending you’re not interested. 

Wondering why it is that you are, actually. 

“Perhaps on any other street.” He confirms for you, now crouching down and showing his face plainly to you. “Do you keep secrets?” 

Your body nods before you can think to do it yourself, and you narrow your eyes for a moment at him. He’s…insane looking. Unnaturally flawless. Like those little speckles of moles on his face were placed with perfected intention. 

You’re mesmerized as he looks at you, eyes glancing to each part of your face, watching your expression change and fall, then rise and– he chuckles fondly, deeply. 

“I believe you.”

Why do you feel proud of that?

“Come back with me, yes?” 

There’s a long pause as you fight to think for yourself. If Jungwon were here with you right now, surely you’d be more grounded than you feel right now. Surely, you’d be having a heated conversation involving some sort of shared fantasy over that bartender. 

What was his name again? 

J…J-

Your eyes adjust to the face in front of you as you lose your train of thought. Something inside of you pulls. You can’t tell if it’s your heart or your thoughts but it appears to be instinctual when you replay his invitation in your head. On any other night, with any other man, you’d say no. 

Under these circumstances alone, you should be running away. 

This man. Dressed as a holy priest, walking to and fro from what you assume to be his home within that unnatural cathedral, presenting himself as god.

You should stand up and disappear into a crowd of rowdy dancers. 

You should find Jungwon and cling to him. 

You should push him away, and you should be recoiling by his cold hand that brushes your cheek. His voice shouldn’t feel so good in your ears. Like a siren, something inside of you doesn’t want you to run. 

“Temptation has you by the throat, my dear.” He smiles as his hand brushes your warm cheek again and again. “You seem rather fond of the feeling.” 

And now he flashes his teeth to you. Glistening brighter than the moon, he appears all but natural to you at this moment when you spiral internally at how fucking beautiful he is. Surely this guy is just a turbo goth that truly lives the life. Probably gives his heart to satan and only fucks during a full moon. 

And oh, wouldn’t you know.

You glance up at the sky again, the moon full and nearly pulsing in the sky like it’s a living being itself. Then your eyes fall back to the priest, his smile still present. 

A weirdo. A freak.

But…aren’t you too?

You barely feel yourself stand up and take a step forward under his arm. You follow the scent of him if nothing else. Heavy in your nose, like a hidden treasure cloaked by the darkened fabric draping over his body.

You want to smell it deeper. Maybe if he were to take off those clothes you could–

“By the throat.” He mumbles quietly as he leads you away from the club. 

Away from familiarity. Away from Jungwon. Away from the public.

There, straight back to that damned cathedral.

You’re more unnerved this time though, because the moment you step through the doors, you cannot, for the life of you, recall what you were supposed to be doing. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Waking up with a weight on your side, you smile at the feeling of what you assume to be Jungwon next to you. As you lay here, not quite comprehending what happened in the blur of the night before, you start to take note of something. Color. 

The light behind your closed eyelids don’t match the yellow-white light of the sun shining through your bedroom window. No, you’re seeing colors. 

Blue, red, green– 

“Wonnie?” You call out, squinting your eyes open, not quite processing the room before you feel a pit in your stomach. “Wonnie?”

Holy shit. 

You thought it was a dream.

You thought coming back to this cathedral was nothing more than a drunken dream. That the weight on your side was more than just a misplaced pillow. 

And as you lay here in a room that isn’t yours, and most certainly a different room compared to the one you slept in previously here, you try to think. 

Was it not a dream? 

The way the priest held you close and inhaled you? The way he put you to bed and left you here in the darkness? The way you– oh. 

This feeling in your chest, pulling, pushing, weighing so heavy. Something inside of you wants to see him despite your uncomfortable awakening. No, you need to see him. This feeling, you know now, only becomes more aggressive when he’s near too. Which can only mean he isn’t far outside of this room. 

You think hard about him and what you can remember outside of the blur in your head. He’s attractive. His face is otherworldly, with eyes so dark you hate that you can very nearly see yourself floating in them. 

The image of his face sits clearly in your hungover brain as you try to think. The feeling of his cold skin against your face, his lips, his…

Red.

Panic washes over you when you jump out of bed, ignoring the head rush and the way you immediately topple over and onto the floor. You need to go home, you need to find Jungwon and make sure he made it somewhere safe last night. You need to find your phone, and your…purse? 

Your shoes?

Where the fuck are your things?

You plant your hands against the cold wooden floors, staring straight down as you try to think. Still, nothing comes but blurry images of the club and then solid images of Sunghoon flashing like still photographs behind your eyes.

Are you losing your goddamn mind? 

Finally, you take a deep breath and stand on your feet, rushing for the door and expecting it to open easily, just like this time. But no. It’s locked. You’re fucking locked in. Which is– fuck, you can’t think straight. And while you still recognize that you’re not expected at work today, surely Jungown is worried, right?

He’s probably looking for you. Hell, with the way his nerves get to him, you wouldn’t be surprised to know he’s plastered posters all over the city looking for you. 

He’s definitely looking for you. 

Fortunately though, only a few minutes of pure panic pass when you hear the door unlock and a pale-eyed nun opens the door for you. She instantly sees the fear in your eyes when you take a timid step back. 

“Oh, you poor dear–” She coos out, lifting her brows in pity. “Do you not remember?” 

You hear her sympathy, feeling your body shiver with relief at her safe and calm voice. Looking up at her, she can already see the question in your eyes. The need for an explanation. 

“You did request that I lock the door for you. You were just simply petrified when–”

You gasp at her choice of words, not remembering a single bit of fear from the night before. 

“Petrified?” You whisper carefully, wrapping your arms around yourself and nervously looking around the room. 

The shrouded woman purses her lips, glancing away from you. 

“I do believe Master Sunghoon startled you. He meant no harm, my dear.” She tries to calm your nerves, but the information only stiffens your shoulders more. 

“Master?” You question with hesitation. “Do you mean Father? Reverend?” 

“Oh.” She purses her lips tighter now, a small smile breaking out at the corners of her lips. “It’s worse than I thought. Please, come with me.” 

You shake your head, backing yourself up against the wall. 

“It’ll only be a minute,” She waves her hand for you to come. “You’re not in danger, I assure you.” 

And as you stand here, knowing that you likely have no choice but to follow her, you hope that her words indicating no danger are truthful. You kind of need them to be, after all. 

“Come now, dear.” 

Reluctantly, you follow her. 

All the way up a too-dark spiral staircase, down two long and dark hallways with vaulted ceilings, and upon rounding a corner, you smell it and you fucking feel a tug in your chest. One that drives you to walk a bit faster, nearly in front of the nun as your feet carry you to where you feel you’re supposed to be. 

She chuckles when you reach the large double doors before she does, dipping her head at you before seemingly gliding back down the hallway in silence. 

Before you can even knock on the doors, they open with a rush of air hitting you square in your face. It nearly knocks the breath out of you at first, but you inhale deeply the same scent of cinnamon before your breath is actually caught in your throat. 

There stands the priest. Or god…or whatever he is. 

“Terrified.” He clicks a knowing tongue at you, stepping to the side to invite you into the extravagant room. “Just when I thought you I had you, too.” 

You stand in silence in front of him after stepping inside, that tug in your chest trying to pull you directly against the man. Still, you refrain with furrowed brows as you remain silent.

“And yet, here you stand.” He softens his frustrated voice, leaning comfortably against a wooden desk behind him. “The human brain truly is fascinating.” 

“Human brain.” You repeat his words to him in an attempt to process them.

“Yes, of course. Yours in particular.” The priest, in his night clothes of a loosened white shirt and long pants makes his way to a bookcase. You watch his slender fingers pull a ratty old book out before he flip through the pages. “I’ve heard about people like you.” 

You pause as you watch him push a pair of gold-trimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, a memory flooding to the forefront of your mind as you recall last night to your best ability. 

Again, red. 

“I used to be like you.” He just talks, offering no context but keeping his sharp gaze on you despite having the book open in his hands. 

You find yourself nodding as you listen, feeling your hand raise to your heart as you try to ignore the way the priest, Sunghoon, takes a deep inhale. 

There’s nothing that follows his inhale. He doesn’t release that breath as he stares at you and instead just…smirks.

“Last night, you believed me to be god.” He smiles wider now. “You stood in that very spot and undressed  yourself.” He takes a step closer to you now, tilting his head with his words. “Do you know what you did next?” 

A shaky breath leaves your lips and a shiver runs through you again and again as you shake your head at him. Forgetting just for a moment how to speak. 

“You got on your knees and you prayed.”

You drink the thick air in the room like a glass of wine, swallowing harshly, struggling to maintain any type of steady heart beat. You feel allured, aroused, mesmerized, embarrassed. 

“What–” Inhale. “Did I pray for?” 

Exhale. 

“Me.” 

Inhale.

Within a split second all the memories come crashing through your skull. Rattling images of that very instance where you were on your knees, right here, fucking praying. Your hand instinctively shoots up to your neck, and there, you feel the drainage points. Two small pricks, just like in all of those movies you watched growing up. Sore, swollen, hot to the touch. 

Well, goddamn. 

There goes your balance. Your eyes start to blur and you feel yourself fall. Only, you don’t. You can’t when you hear him drop the book to the floor and feel his cold body shoot up and against you to hold you up. 

He says nothing at first as he looks down at you, and you couldn’t say anything if you wanted to. You look up at him in a daze, trying to focus, trying to think, but all you can process is the way he inhales again, deeply.

“You ran.” He whispers to you, studying your face and the way your body went from limp to almost holding up on its own in a shorter time than he expected. So strong, you are. Such a fighter.

He inhales again, seemingly drowning in the smell of you before rolling his eyes up and closing them just for a moment. Then, he groans before looking back down at you with eyes almost as dazed as yours.

“You didn’t run away, though.” He adds.

Even as he releases his hold on you, he smiles and inches his face closer and closer to yours. Almost as if he’s making an attempt to stare straight through you. 

“I wouldn’t have stopped you, love.” 

Your body feels weak as you soak in the truth of last night, your lips instinctively wanting to kiss him. No longer do you feel the need to run away, or to find Jungwon. You’re no longer afraid, even. 

Words can’t explain how you feel right now.

“Why didn’t you leave?” 

You have no answers for him when you hum out as a response. In fact, you’re not sure if you’ve ever had the ability to answer questions in the first place. 

All you feel is euphoria as he continues to talk to you, sweetly smiling and lowering his voice to something that drips like thick syrup down the walls of your brain. 

“I can trust you’ll be back then?” He hovers his lips over yours, watching you pucker them for him before backing away with another deep inhale of your scent. “Or would you rather I come pick you up from the vomit-covered sidewalk again?”

You find yourself laughing at that, smiling as you blink at him. 

God, he’s so charming. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon had shoo’d you away shortly after, and you managed to make it home in a daze of sunlight and uncanny admiration.

You’re not sure if you can ever feel normal again after that. In fact, you’re quite dissociated and disconnected to the world until you find Jungwon slumped at the entrance of your apartment, sound asleep. 

Like a guiding light, his presence grounds you so fast that you feel more dizzy than you did in Sunghoon’s arms. Like your spirit is slammed back into your body and reality is hitting you again. You crouch down in a rush with light taps to Jungwon’s face, those bright eyes widening the moment he realizes that you’re here. 

“Where were you?”  He whispered drowsily, his dry throat forcing his voice to crack as he shifts his body comfortably against your door. 

Immediately, your face is apologetic and your voice is soothing in repeated apologies. 

“I’m sorry, Wonnie–” You hiccup, nearly wanting to cry. “I ended up going home with someone, I didn’t mean to leave you there alone.” You continue, pushing your hands under his arms and hoisting him up to stand. “I’m sorry.” You continue, and continue. “I should have left my keys with you, or–”

“Hey,” He whispers sweetly, finally standing on his own and stretching his arms out with an even drier sound. “It’s okay, you’re the one who missed out.” 

You tilt your head in question as you reach for your shoulder bag, the one Sunghoon had tucked within his desk drawer, and pull out your keys. 

“Oh?” You smile at his lack of care, but part of you kind of shatters at it. 

What if you really needed help? How long would it have taken Jungwon to see the red flags? Then again, how long is it going to take for you to see the red flags?

“Oh yeah.” He nods to you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as you push open your door and push him inside. “Jay brought me here, he stayed for a little while, even offered to bring me back to his place.”

You’re a little jealous. You did miss out, it seems. Still, you feel…fond of what you went through last night. Despite the feeling of rot within you when you think about it. Knowing it’s weird. Strange. Unnatural.

A vampire? Really? Surely not. 

“Why didn’t you go home with him?” You ask, making your way to your room right behind Jungwon, paying no mind to him as you undress and throw on a t-shirt. “Why’d you sleep at my door?” 

Jungwon shrugs, now taking his own outfit off while rummaging through your closet for a shirt you probably got from an ex boyfriend. 

“Well,” He looks at you now, really looks at you. “I’m fine if you wanna go home with people but I was a little worried, wanted to make sure you’d actually make it home.”

You pause as you dress yourself for a second sleep, feeling something in your chest flutter out of you at his worry. So he did see the color red. 

Not as brightly as you did, but he still saw it. 

“I really am sorry.” You furrow your brows as you watch him put that over-sized shirt on and lay on your bed. “I promise, I won’t do that again.” 

“You’d better not.” He chuckles, blinking at you and waiting for you to come lay with him. 

“Let me go get us some water first, I think we have a lot to sleep off.” 

He nods happily to you, only one dimple peeking out at you when you turn to head for the kitchen.

And after that, it’s nice. Not much sleep happened though, mostly just a lot of water chugging and pillow talk before Jungwon shifts with a gasp.

“What the fuck is that?” He bolts up, hovering over you and practically pinning you to the bed as he forces your face to the side. 

You know exactly what he’s looking at and explaining it isn’t the hardest thing in the world. After all, you were very drunk last night. So drunk that you’re sure you woke up today still drunk. 

A vampire? Hah. There’s no way. You were right to think Sunghoon is just like, really goth. Embarrassingly so. Probably thinks he’s a vampire lord or something. 

That pull in your chest? The inhales with no exhales? 

It’s all an act and, well, you’re kinda into it if you’re being honest, being hunted and all. The dude is hot as hell, and you don’t mind exploring a little bit of his world. 

“Well…” You trail off, lending your looming friend with the smeared eyes an embarrassed smile. 

“Those look deep.” His voice drips in concern as he keeps your face turned. “Did it hurt?”

You feel his fingers touching the two puncture wounds. Gentle, warm fingers. They pulse at the touch and sting when he pulls them away to let you turn your face back to him.

“To be honest, I don’t remember feeling it.” You think he’d probably panic if you told the truth right now. About how you were clearly too drunk when it happened. About how you prayed to a man only for him to pierce your neck and drink you up like you did to the drinks just hours prior. You aren’t even sure if you had sex with the guy.

To you though, sober or not, you probably would have still left with Sunghoon last night. With that flawless skin and those dark eyes. Sober or not, if he’s into biting and blood, you’re into it too. More than willing to play his victim. 

The fact that you were probably far too drunk at the time doesn’t bother you much because even now, with a grasp on reality, you’d like to think you’d let him do it again. If anything, just to feed your own curiosity.

“Wow, you really are into some freaky stuff–” Jungwon comments playfully, rolling back off of you and then taking a breath. “Make sure you clean them. Who knows where the mouth that did it has been.”

All smiles when you’re with Jungwon, honestly. So much comfort and concern, so much laughing and safety. If it weren’t for him, you honestly wouldn’t know how you’d be feeling right now. And it’s nice knowing that he opts to sleep over with you again. Seemingly preferring your apartment over the home he dropped a hefty wad of cash on for a two month stay. 

The feeling of having a best friend swells inside of you with each passing day, and his presence here allows you to go to work and sleep through the night without much more thought to Sunghoon. You love this city and you love the little artist that found himself at your doorstep even more. 

Hopefully he meant it when he said he’d come visit you all the time once his time here is over. Unlike you, who changed your mind the moment you saw Jungwon asleep at your door. 

“I can trust you’ll be back then? Or would you rather I come pick you up from the vomit-covered sidewalk again?” Sunghoon had said to you. You remember it despite the state of your mind at the time, and you also remember nodding to him. 

He seemed satisfied with your confirmation, yet since then you’ve felt no push or pull. No need to have him sucking on your neck or making you feel like he’s a demon wearing the skin of an angel. 

Perhaps you’ll just need to be sure you don’t find yourself drunk and alone on the sidewalk again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

By mid-week, Jungwon looks sad to know he needs to go back to his respective space for a little while. Not because he wants to, and not even because you want him to. 

It’s simply because you need to be alone. You’ve always needed to be in your own space when this happens anyway. 

Month after month after month. For years and years. 

It never gets comfortable and you’ll never understand why you’re fated to hurt so badly every twenty two days. 

Going to work is already difficult enough, bloated in your quirky outfits and smiling through the twisting knots in your gut. Having Jungwon in your space when you very nearly want to strangle every person who asks you how your day has been would only lead to more owed apologies. 

“It’s not forever, Wonnie.” You genuinely smile through the pain at his narrowed eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.” 

“Oh, I’m being dramatic?” He throws his arms up and motions at you. “You just told me you need a few days to bleed out on your kitchen floor.” 

“Well, yeah...” You laugh and he frowns. 

“I have a sister, you know.” He rolls his eyes. “Who’s gonna buy you snacks and bring you microwaved water bottles?”

“Jungwon.” You land your hands on his shoulders and force him to look at you. “I really just don’t like when people are around me when I'm on my period.” 

He blows a strand of his hair up before pursing his lips, accepting the fact that maybe he’s a bit too clingy. Then again, you’re the only person in this city he knows and arguably the only person in this world he’s managed to grow so close with.

Given the fact that the two of you only met like, what? Two weeks ago? He should probably tone it down and not make an attempt to change your lifestyle just so he can sleep next to someone. 

“Fine.” He huffs, frowning harder. “But if you need snacks or–”

“I’ll call you.” You shake his shoulders before forcing him into a bear hug. “Thanks though.” 

And with that, you go your separate ways at the end of the work day and try to ignore how the pain medicine did close to nothing all day to help with the twisting in your abdomen. 

Still, you’re relieved to know you can tough out the next few days in silence due to Jungwon backing you up on your false-sickness nonsense nearing the end of your shift. 

“I feel like I’m coming down with a fever.” You whined to your boss, happy that the first day cold-sweats from your period makes it appear as just that. A fever. 

“She’s been a bit out of it all day. If you need me to help out on the down-low while she’s recovering, I don’t mind.” Jungwon had added, smiling at your boss and not at all bothered by the unpaid work he’ll probably have to do for your sake. 

A great friend he is. You’re lucky to have met him. 

An amazing friend, really. For helping you find space for yourself in crowded clubs and within your own bed. For lending a hand at work and showing up every day for your shifts despite simply being an artist that’s presenting his work there. No where is he needed within that museum outside of, well, you. 

And he’s always there. So for him to not be here now, when you’re making your way to your apartment door? It feels...wrong. Mostly because, as alone as you are when you walk inside and as silent as it is, you don’t entirely feel as alone like you once did here. 

Still, you go about your nightly routine and fall into bed with those same cramps in your gut. It’s not long before you’re drifting off, pleased to know that at least when you’re sleeping, there’s no pain in your body. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A strong scent wakes you, forcing your eyes open in the darkness of your room. 

Familiar. Warm. Spicy.

Cinnamon.

A tug, just a little pull inside of you brings you to your feet as you wander through your apartment. Straight to the front door. Straight out of the front door. 

“You know where I live?” You whisper drowsily, rubbing your eyes and walking straight into his grasp, ignoring the feeling of sticky blood leaking out of you just from getting out of bed alone.

“No.” Sunghoon speaks against your hair, rubbing your arms as he holds you against him. 

“Oh.” You accept his answer with a nonchalant feeling inside of you. Who even cares how he ended up here? 

“Come back with me?” He whispers, already taking a step back and smiling wickedly when you instantly follow, forcing your nose further against his chest and up to his neck. “I hear it dripping, love, come.”

And you do. All the way downstairs and into a car with heavily tinted windows. 

You feel comfortable, safe. 

The cramps in your belly are nowhere near as you slowly but surely come to your senses. Half-awake but feeling buzzed next to him. Still, you smile while keeping your nose planted up and against his neck even as he drives. 

You like the sound of his little laughs each time he tries to push you back to your seat, and you like even more the way he mutters to himself through it when he relents and lets you do as you please. The short drive in the dead of night doesn’t offer much in terms of danger anyway. 

And slowly still, your mind clears. Breaking out of the buzzed fog when he brings you through the cathedral

 silently. Past the pale-eyed nuns with pursed smiling lips, past the windows and hallways. 

No longer are you buzzed by the time you make it through those heavy doors of the extravagant room. The same one you prayed in. The same one you nearly fainted in. The same one you tried to forget. 

“How do you feel?” He asks just moments after the doors close. 

You can sense the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice when he asks you that, only now realizing that you’re in your pajamas and fucking staining them.

“What do you mean?” You ask, squeezing your legs together in an uncomfortable show of what’s happening between them. 

“Are you awake?” He asks now, still slightly hesitant in front of you. You can almost see him hold himself back. 

From something.

“As far as I know.” You tilt your head, glancing around the room. “Um, can I go to the bathro–”

“Can you read that clock?” He interrupts you and points to the candle-lit wall. 

“Three thirty–” You pause, squinting to make sense of the exact minute. “three.” 

He smiles at the fact that you’re entirely awake with him this time, despite the drowsy lure he had you in when he appeared at your door. 

You’re here of your own free will, and you’re not running. 

“Do you want to go home?” 

You’re confused by the questions. As confused and drunk as you felt upon stumbling out your apartment door, you very much came here willingly. If anything, you’re just a little weirded out by the fact that you were paying such close attention to him that you missed the way blood seeped through your clothes. 

“No?” You offer back to him before taking a deep breath. “Can you show me where the bathroom is though?” 

And before you can even comprehend it, Sunghoon is right up against you. Looming and staring down as his hands rest on your shoulders before sliding down to your waist. 

“Now, now.” He chuckles, lowering his face just an inch, resting his lips on your forehead. “Why would I want to do that?” 

“Because I’m gross right now?” You laugh awkwardly, trying to take a step back but realizing that his grip on you tightens. 

“Oh, have you forgotten?” He laughs out, lowering himself more, dragging his lips all the way down your face, neck, chest. 

“Ah, wait–” You panic when you feel his nose against your stomach, threatening to go lower. “I’m like…” You’re embarrassed to say it now. 

After all, you came here with the clear indication of fucking. Period or not, you’re not afraid of a little bit of blood but…this.

“Sunghoon, I’m on my period.” You finally speak into the room, trying to push his face from your stomach. 

“I know.” He smiles, pressing his nose harder against your stomach. “Drove me crazy all day.” He dips his face down instantly, inhaling deeply between your legs.

Something inside of you is insanely turned on by his blatant interest in you. 

“All day?” You ask, hands reaching for his hair as he drags his nose straight through the mess you’ve made. 

“Could smell it, darling.” He laughs, pulling back and looking up at you. “Smells so sweet, not gross. Delicious.”

Why the fuck is the blood smeared against the tip of his nose so alluring? Jungwon was right, you really are into some freaky shit. Then again, it’s not so weird considering you’ve never done this before. Everyone’s gotta start somewhere when it comes to kinks, right? 

“Can smell something else too.” He looks back between your legs, ignoring that you are trying to act like you don’t want to let him. “You’re aroused.” 

Oh. 

And just as you’re preparing for some sort of pressure between your thighs, you feel a waft of cold air rush up your body when he stands and grabs your face with both hands. 

“You never came back.” He hisses against your lips, dragging you back and further into the room with him. “I had to sniff you out like a fucking dog.” 

Your mouth falls open at the spiteful shift in his voice, following his movements all the way into the room until he’s spinning around and pushing you from his hold. You fall back against something insanely soft, and instantly you moan at the feeling of silk against you. 

Barely able to catch your breath, he’s over you. He’s on you. Tucking his face into the crook of your neck with a low rumbled growl in his throat and inhaling over and over again. 

Inhale. Inhale. Inhale. 

And you can feel him nose his way all the way up to your face, opening his eyes and staring straight through you with slack lips just over yours. 

You’re mesmerized by him at this moment. Never has a man acted this way with you and it’s insane to think you’d ever be satisfied with someone who wouldn’t. You almost strain your neck to kiss him, and you truly would have if it weren’t for the fact that you feel him sink his hand into your shorts.

Not even a second to truly comprehend how ice-cold his fingers feel when he slips them down and slides two of them into you. He watches your face when he does it, his own slack lips turning to a smile when you moan out at the smallest of pleasure he wants to offer you. 

“Oh, look at you,” He coos, feeling your arms shoot around his shoulders when he continues to slide the digits in and out of you. “So sticky, what a pretty little mess.” 

You groan in embarrassment at the act, knowing full well that you’ll have to face the fact that you like it at some point after he’s finished with you. You don’t mind admitting it so much now though. The way his fingers slide through the thick mess, forcing the scent of brass to mix with his own cinnamon aroma? To die for, truly. 

“I could just eat you up–” He chokes in a whisper this time, struggling to maintain his composure from the sickening sweet smell of your blood. “Would you like that?”

You lift up instantly, kissing against his slackened smile. It’s one sided, as he simply lets you do it and nothing more. Mostly because he, himself, is spiraling into a frenzy of what he needs more than what you want. It’s all pleasure the same though, as he feels your tongue trace against one of his sharpened teeth.

Just a small bite. Just a taste.

“Ah–” You pull back in a wince, the flavor of blood hitting the back of your taste buds as you look up at him with confusion.

He doesn’t allow much looking though, as you hear that same rumble from his throat right up against your lips. You feel his tongue lick you up, slurping the blood straight from your new wound and moaning through the flavor of it. 

His eyes flutter closed as he tries to hold down his thirst, knowing that his fingers are fucking dripping with this same sweet, red slick. It wouldn’t take much now for him to break and let it all drip down his throat. He could end this now if he’s not careful.

And when he opens his eyes again as he pulls back from your sweet tongue, he notes the look of confusion still on your face. His eyes roll in fond annoyance at you for that, only because you have this stubborn need to question despite having the clear answer bleeding from your mouth. 

“You’re still trying to pretend you don’t realize?” He asks, whispering real close to your lips, darting his tongue out and offering a small kitten lick as he buries his fingers deep. 

Your lips open for him in a moan and he licks into it again. Your still bleeding tongue only drives him further and further from a stable mindset. No one, not in hundreds of years, has tasted this fucking sweet. He almost can’t savor it with the way his body rises from slumber at the mere fucking scent of you from ten blocks away. 

His cock pulses for the first time in decades for you. God, he feels more alive than he did when he was actually cycling blood through his veins. 

“You just sliced open that pretty tongue on my teeth.” He chuckles, basking in the warmth he can only feel with you beneath him. “My fangs, love.” His fingers continue their slide all the while, the sounds of squelching blood filling his ears more than your soft groans for more. “Still, you seem to deny what this is and what I am.” 

You can hear his words, but comprehending them isn't quite as easy. Like, yes, he’s got a vampire kink. Whatever. 

“I get it, you’re kinky.” You huff out, missing the way he stifles a laugh at your denial of the truth. 

“You’re a stubborn one–” He smiles, flashing the same fang that sliced through your tongue. “It’s a bit frustrating. Perhaps even endearing.” 

And then, suddenly, his fingers come to a halt and he waits for you to look at him. Just as you go to speak, he’s sliding his fingers out of your mess so quickly, shushing you with his red stained digits. 

“Now, listen.” 

It’s silent. More silent than you ever thought the world could be. 

“Do you hear it?” 

You shake your head, feeling his fingers leave a trail of your blood against your lips as he drags them away and up to his own mouth. 

There, he hangs his fingers from his mouth, licking gently and tasting thoughtfully before sliding them further in. He sucks them clean in an erotic show of his blood-lust before letting them fall from his still licking tongue. Then, he’s slotting them right back between your legs, wanting more to taste. 

“No? You don’t hear how loud it is?” He asks now in a lower tone, still thirsty, still in need, dipping down to lick the blood from your face. “All that blood in you, bundled up right–” His fingers press hard against your clit. “Here.”

Your body jolts in pleasure, eyes rolling back at the mere sensitivity he forces your body into. God, kinky is right. He knows how to use words. His voice is so elegant while spewing the filth, so proper.

“Ahh, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He questions you in a moan that mimicked your own, now lowering himself from your face and kissing down your clothed chest. Down, down, down. “Do you think you’ll believe me when you feel the blood drain out of you?” His voice echoes in your ears, reminding you of the vampire-like thirst he’s trying to act upon. 

And when he slips your shorts down your legs, you don’t even protest. Which at this point isn’t weird at all. The dude is insanely into it and you can’t help but feel like you can vibe with it if he keeps acting like this. He’s good at roleplaying. 

Instead of an embarrassed protest, you respond to him by spreading your legs and presenting the red mess he’s smeared all over you. Inviting him.

He glances up at you as he watches, saying nothing, thinking nothing except for the fact that– you are perfect. 

In every way, spread out and dripping blood, perfect.

You feel an intense jolt of pain shoot through your body just seconds later, followed by a loud and almost animalistic moan from the man between your legs. You lift slightly as you try to look down at him, witnessing the way he sucks the flesh of your thigh into his mouth, blood weeping from the new wounds his teeth create.

So much blood. He’s the one drunk now, utterly fucking mesmerized by the amount of it you pour for him. Your fleshy thighs offer the freshest, he couldn’t help but take a sip before giving you what your quivering body is truly begging for. He has to quench the genuine thirst before playing with his food, at least. 

And as you watch him it’s like you’re nothing but a piece of meat at this moment. He’s sucking and sucking against your thigh until you’re sure your toes are numb. They’re tingling, and you can physically feel the blood being pulled from you. As if his teeth are two syringes seeping it out of you. 

Af if they are. Not because they actually are, right?

And by the time your toes are effectively filled with static, he finally releases the fleshy bite on your thigh. You stare down, listening to him smack his lips and lick the corners of his mouth, seeing the way he doesn’t make eye contact with you at all before he’s turning his attention and burying his tongue into your crimson coated cunt. Without warning, but with so much eagerness with his tasting lips. 

Your eyes flutter with a loud and strained gasp, eliciting a groan of his own to bubble into the blood that falls against his tongue with each passing pulse of you. He licks in time with your heartbeat, which is fucking insane that you can tell he does it. Never before now have you heard your heart beat so loudly, so frantically in your ears. 

And you would be embarrassed, perhaps even worried that the taste is awful. Maybe it’s too much for him, maybe this kink is all just for show and this is a limit he’s only willing to try once before realizing himself that he doesn’t necessarily like drinking the blood from a woman’s pussy…except– Sunghoon gives you no reason to feel like any of that is true. 

No, no. Oh no. He’s fucking relishing in it and you can tell by the way he moans and skews his head to dig his tongue deeper. You can tell by the way he smothers himself, not coming up for air for even a second of the time he’s spending down there. 

And god, you can feel the mess of it all. Sticky, smearing all over your thighs when his fingers trace you mindlessly before gripping your thighs just to pull you down the bed, closer against his face, sliding his tongue ever deeper.

Moaning, fucking slurping it out of you without so much as a breath. 

He’s not breathing.

And now? You panic, focusing more on the time he’s spending burying his mouth and nose into you than the feeling of it. Your hand shoots down into his hair, pulling his head back and away from you. 

Then your breath is caught in your throat at the sharp image. His eyes blown out, widened at you. Nose, cheeks, chin, tongue all glistening with sticky crimson slick, and a smile.

He smiles at you. 

At least before his tongue is clicking and he’s poking it into the side of his cheek before reaching back, grabbing your hand, and shoving it out of his hair before sinking his face right back between your legs. As if to show you that he was annoyed by that. 

You don’t get to think about it though, because this time he’s licking you more frantically than he already was. Fast tongue flicking and fucking you, his teeth dragging against your pussy lips, refusing to let you believe that he wants to breathe fresh air right now. 

Your hands find purchase in his hair yet again though, and you feel him grip your legs and stiffen his shoulders to keep his head in place just in case you try to pull him from you again. You hear the deep growl. You feel it rumble against you as if to warn you to keep your hands to yourself if you’re not going to let him do exactly what he said he would fucking do. 

So, you don’t pull him away. Instead, you play in his hair with your weak hands. Twisting and twirling strands of it between your fingers until he’s pulling his tongue back on his own. 

A shock to you, truly, that he does it at all. But you guess it makes sense when you feel another sharp pain in your thigh, right below the preview bite he had given you. 

Just when you were gaining feeling back in your toes too. 

And he goes back and forth like that for a while, until his face is utterly soaked in diluted blood and pussy-slick. Until he needs to look at it pulse, and watch how beautiful you still, fucking still, have more to pour out for him. 

He’s amazed, really. Never has he served himself a woman that’s openly bleeding for him like this. After all, he prefers to drink his dinner from the carotid artery and be done with it. He was far more creative back in the day though, you know, when his cock still worked. 

Most of his sexual pleasure came from drinking alone. Never getting hard but always reaching climax in one way or another when he gets that last, delicious drop of blood from his victims. But now? Oh, now. You’ve stirred his arousal back to life. Not from pure hunger, but lust.

It’s been so long that he’s lusted. So, so fucking long since he’s cared enough to fuck his prey or give in to the temptation of menstrual blood. In fact, he can’t even recall ever allowing his victims to fall away from the drowsy lure he puts them in. Many of them didn’t know what was happening to them before death and he preferred it that way. 

Until you. An average looking commoner with insane fucking blood. Devilish blood. Divine, demonic, angelic, fucking celestial tasting blood. 

After all this time, he’s had beautiful face after beautiful face. He’s had men, women, celebrities, false-prophets, and even purely divine bodies.. But you…oh no, he can’t simply kill you like those utter throw-aways.

There was a reason he didn’t end you the first night. Something in him caught fire on the taste of your drunken blood. The alcohol you had ran through his veins along with a taste he’s never once fathomed existing. It was the first time in hundreds of years where he forced himself to let you walk out of his quarters. 

Blood with no comparison. So thick, so sweet, so…damning. How could he have just killed you there? How could he pretend like it’s not addicting? Like he didn’t want you to continue producing more and more of it, all for him to drink up?

Of course he wants all of it. He wants to drain you to your last fucking drop, but then he’d never taste it again. Not in thousands of years, at least. So now, as his cock pulses awake and your heavy flow only produces more and more for his hungry mouth to lick up– fuck.

It’s been so long since he’s felt something for a victim like this, and even longer since he’s wanted to use his cock. No, needing to use it. It feels almost foreign to him now after so many centuries, to fuck and eat at the same time. To indulge in all the pleasure, and not just the one that keeps him alive. To want you to feel the pleasure too, to need you to want him without the false sleep forcing it.

You. 

You’re the one. You’re the one he’s going to keep. For as long as you’ll let him, and when you stop letting him, he’ll have no choice but to lure you again. Forever. All for him. 

“Love,” He rasps out, staring at the way your pussy shines so prettily in front of him, the pulse drawing him to near starvation despite being drenched in his meal. “Never have I wanted to fuck before I–” 

Kill, is the word he almost used. It’s instinctual, but instead he releases a moan from his throat at the mere thought ignoring that instinct. Drinking, sipping. Forever just a fucking appetizer and never the full meal. He can settle. He will settle.

Never. Truly never has he wanted to stop himself from drinking just to fuck and he needs you to know that. The feeling is too erotic for even him to comprehend right now, meshing with his hunger and making him feel –-

Gods be damned, he could kill you. 

He should kill you. Given the fact that he has never let a meal leave this room without being drained entirely. Never while they’re awake and fully aware anyway. Insanity. You’ve made him go insane, losing his wits enough to treat you as something more than a victim.

Despite hunting you as one. Despite never having to hunt anyone like he has you. Wanting you to be here willingly. Wanting you to love the feeling of his thirst. Wanting you to learn how good the drain feels. Wanting you to know what he is and needing you to love it. 

Needing you to stay alive. 

Insane. 

He’s fucking losing it.

He knows that if he can never smell this scent again, if he can never taste it, or have your fingers in his hair, if he can never want to fuck again? Oh, he’d crumble. 

He’d take a walk at noon.

You’re not dying tonight. In fact, never shall you feel the cold slab of a morgue freezer if he has anything to do with it. No blood wasted when it comes time for you, and no life truly lost either. 

If just for the sex. If just to quench a never ending thirst. 

If just to live in insanity.

“Before you–” You release in a breath that he chases. As if craving the life under him like an animal. “Before you, what?”

“Kill.” He whispers as he swallows each breath of yours, tasting the sweet sleep that you once held in your body. His own eyes feeling drowsy as if you have your own lure on him now. 

Even the panicked gasp you release at his choice of word there, he swallows it, kissing you hard in a drowsy groan and smearing the blood all through the kiss, letting your breath rumble out of his mouth as if the moan were from his own lungs. 

“So vacuous.” He chuckles now, feeling the pleasure of his cock jolt through his body. He presses himself between your legs, relishing in the sticky blood seeping straight through his sleep pants. “Do you feel that?” He continues, rutting against you as if he’s a virgin of all that he’s experiencing right now, licking each smear of blood from your cheeks and chin. 

“Ah, Sunghoon,” You groan, but you try to be serious in your tone. Feeling the orgasm that once was bubbling up settle back in your stomach. “You’re making a mess.” 

“Mm, I am.” He mutters mindlessly, pressing harder against you now as the taste settles in his throat. “Love, tell me. You feel it?” 

Of course you fucking feel it. 

The nod you lend pleases him, knowing that it’s not just his imagination. Finally, he can feel the warmth of a living being wrapped around him. Finally, he doesn’t feel so cold. 

“You can’t fathom what it is that you do to me,” He continues his sweet talk, running his lips down to your neck, leaving trails of that blood all the way before immediately piercing his teeth into the same wounds he left on you already. He feels your pulse against his teeth when he sucks and only groans weaker against you as he ruts. 

“Ah–” You wince in pain again, feeling the wound reopen with a cold and sharp prick. The pain ignites something inside of you to press your hips up, sliding yourself against his red-drenched pants. 

He chuckles into his bite at your willingness, his hands reaching straight down to shove his pants down in one movement. Euphoria runs through him at the feeling of your warm blood against him when he presses back against you.

Really, the feeling alone paired with the taste of your fresh blood yet again only drives him to keep going. After all, he has all the time in the world. His intention to keep you here only lends him the ability to press his length straight into that bloody, sopping wet hole of yours. The one pulsing for him, the one that lends his favorite smell, taste, and feeling in the world. 

His teeth are forced to retract when he throws his head back at the sensation of sinking deep into your cunt, one fluid motion reminding him of how much he loved this feeling before. How often he’d fuck, and fuck, and fuck until suddenly, he just– couldnt. 

You’ve ignited so much life within him, even while doing nothing more than lying here bleeding. No longer does he feel bored with the world considering he’s managed to find you in it. He could possibly even love you if you let him.

Especially with the way you react nearly the same as he does. As if you haven’t fucked before. As if you’ve never mixed scents with another being before ever coming to this city to chase your own demise. The little sounds you make could be so much more than what you think they are. 

They’re so similar to the ones you make when he bites, when he sucks, oh, so so similar. So deeply seeped in pleasure, pain, hesitation.

“Darling, are you afraid?” Sunghoon manages to say as he feels himself warm from inside of your tense body. “Do you believe me now? Do you understand now?”

You frantically shake your head at the tear of his cock spreading your walls open around it. That one slide rendering you near faint considering the amount of blood he’s taken from you already. The feeling of…ice. It’s in you, running from your veins all throughout your body. So, so, fucking cold. 

No, no, no. No living being on this earth could feel this hard inside of you while being this…oh. His hands have been cold on you too. Always. His scalp under your fingernails as you scratched. His lips, his tongue, all of it was freezing until your blood was coating him. Everything about him is ice.

Still, you shake your head through the pleasure, cock warming him both literally and unintentionally. He just sits inside of you, feeling the beat of your heart gush that same blood past his length and out of you. Your eyes slightly open to look at him, afraid of what you’ll see. 

He’s smiling. His eyes are…brighter.

“C–cold.” You manage to stutter out, nearly feeling brain freeze from the way he pulls his hips back and plunges into you again, warm blood splashing out and against his pelvis, coating your thighs more. And oh, that bite on your thigh, it’s dripping again. 

“So cold, yes?” He chuckles when he dips down, moving his hips steadily in and out of your sticky mess. No longer thirsty, just…aroused. “Do you understand?” 

You frantically shake your head again, grabbing onto him from over his shirt. You’re panicking inside, your fingers gripping so tight, trying to find heat. Needing heat. 

How did you not think about this more? It took this to recognize that he never warms? And he’s smiling at your panic? 

God, but it feels so, so fucking good. 

“Love,” He coos at your panic, pistoning his hips easily with the slide, bringing both of his hands to your face and forcing you to look at him. “I’m dead.”

Ah. 

So he is. 

Yet, the feeling of him inside of you feels better than you’ve ever had. The way his hands hold your face, the way his eyes blow out for you, the way his entire face is tinted in red. He’s so alive yet…

Entirely dead. 

“You’re afraid?” He asks through his own forgotten pleasure, wanting you to stay but entirely willing to put you to sleep so this doesn’t have to end. 

“Sunghoon,” You interrupt any words he’s about to give you, opting to continue fighting the truth when you note the softer tone of voice he uses despite the quickening pace of his hips. “Harder.”

Oh, the fire within burns colder than it ever has at those words. He doesn't even need to pull you? You don’t want to pretend this isn’t happening? You’re accepting him? 

If you want him to go harder, he’ll make you feel like no other. Harder he goes, using all of his pent up frustration of not being able to drain you fucking dead, all of his strength, all of everything he’s missed out for the past centuries– all of it. It’s behind his thrusts now as he slams into you. The blood that splatters out only makes the moment all the more grand to him. 

Breaths leave you with each slam, the sticky sound from below being drowned out by the sheer sound your heart rate in your ear. You’re still panicking, but you can’t help but want more. After all, surely what’s left for you after he’s done is….no, it’s not real.

He feels the fear pulse around his cock and moans out at it, the squeeze so tight, the gush so delicious. This entire room smells of you, and he wants it to be fucking drenched in you. The fear inside of you right now only intensifies the pleasure, and he knows he should be calming you through it, he knows he should tell you that you’re making out of this alive, but–

The way the heart beats so frantically when one is terrified. You’re dripping with fear, the smell of your blood intensifies with each petrifying pulse squeezing his cock to the point he feels his own heart make an attempt to pulse. Your life runs through him entirely out of fear that you’ll lose it. 

He can’t tell you, not when your body reacts so flawlessly. Exactly how it’s supposed to react. So delicious is that fear, he wonders if it makes your blood taste any hotter. He dips down, sinking his teeth into your neck once again and confirms his suspicions. It does taste hotter, sweeter, and it pumps itself so beautifully against his eager fangs. Almost as if you truly bleed for him, because he’s not even needing to suck for it at this point. 

It just drips, and pours, and bubbles out all for him to swallow up. 

You push through it though, the pain is so good, and if this is what it’s like to die, perhaps you’ve found yourself in a lucky position. At least you’re not being ripped to pieces by a stranger, or crushed beneath your own car on a highway. At least this way, you’re being held and seemingly adored.

And the fear, excitement, and pure adrenaline in your body forces it out of you. A rush of heat slamming Sunghoon right in his gut when you convulse under him. Legs shaking as you moan out both in disbelief and intense ecstasy. The blood tastes even sweeter now for him, so sweet that he has to pull back in a guttural and demonic growl.

It’s been so, so long since he’s felt a woman cum around him. His own body reacts in an instant, releasing his own thick secretion into you as you shake through it. Sweating, panting, drooling, crying, bleeding. All for him. 

And the explosion behind his eyes is a reminder to keep you alive. He forces himself to keep the inhale from happening as he plunges into you one last time, coating the inside of your bloody walls with a flurry of freezing ropes. Amazed at the feeling he has long forgotten, his body shakes through it and renders him near psychotic for the release. 

You continue to shake with him, shivering at how the man makes you feel as if you’ve been lying in snow for days, but you keep your eyes closed. 

You’re terrified of him, of this, of the truth hitting you square between the eyes as if it wasn’t obvious all along. Fantasies, legends, fairy tales. How many of them are based in reality? 

You know what’s coming now, based on those same stories. 

The last bite, the drain, fuzzy images, death.

And you embrace for it, trying to relish in the post-orgasm bliss before it happens because you know there’s no way to run from him. If he’s truly what he says he is, there’s no chance in this world that you can stop him. You’re going to die, and the strange way in which your brain accepts the inevitable is more calming than petrifying. 

You never knew you’d be able to prepare for it like this, but here you are. Waiting for it. Accepting it. And when you feel the air of his body shift down to you, right up against your neck, you squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath.

His cold hand tilts your face and all you can do is anticipate as you feel his teeth graze the abused and swollen marks there. 

Here it is. 

You inhale deeply, hoping that if there’s an afterlife, this last breath will be a good memory for you until–

A kiss.

He kisses the wounds. He licks them. He nuzzles his cold nose against them, and then he pulls out of you and lays directly on top of you. 

It’s silent as you lay here, still trying to prepare to fucking die and he’s just prolonging it? 

“Get it over with.” You gripe, frustration dripping out in your weak voice. 

It’s laughable, really, that you’ll sound so argumentative and petty over the loss of your life. So laughable that even he’s chuckling about it, right against your ear with no breath fanning against your skin. 

“Get what over with, darling?” He asks, not having felt this drowsy drained state in so long. 

Your mind is racing though, seemingly trying to think of everything that has ever happened in your life onto everything you wish still could happen, only to consistently land on the fact that you don’t want to believe what’s happening. 

You know very well the denial you’re forcing yourself into, even in the face of demise, you don’t want to believe any of this. 

“I still can’t believe that you’re— No,” You dead-pan before taking in a terrified breath, still keeping your eyes closed. “They’re not real.”

“I’m very, very real.” Sunghoon argues back, infatuated with the denial you try to keep. “You know that I am.” 

“So, you have to kill me then?” Your voice gets smaller as you accept the truth little by little, your breath shakier. “Fucking get it over with then, stop trying to savor it, it’s not like I can run now, right?” 

You still like the way he laughs, so breathy despite having no breath of his own. And through that laugh, he lends another kiss before you feel all of that weight lift from you and dip onto the bed next to you instead. 

“Don’t beg for it.” Sunghoon warns, pulling away from you and forcing his instinct to remember the release of the orgasm he just had. “I won’t be able to stop myself if you ask me so prettily.” 

You pause, your eyes opening against your will as you look at him. He’s facing away from you, but you can see the damp blood drying in the strands of his hair. Your eyes trail down, a puddle of blood staining nearly the entire lower half of the bed and it’s still dripping out of you. 

Or perhaps, that’s whatever it is he fucking shoved into you and fucked out of himself. 

“None of this is happening.” You say to yourself. “I did not just fuck a vampire.” 

“You’re right.” He comments with another laugh. “A vampire just fucked you.” 

Well. You’re still not ready to believe that. Even with the absence of heat, even with the lack of breathing. 

“Prove it.” You ask, unsure as to why you’re wanting it both to be real and just a dream.

You back away when he immediately does as he’s asked. Turning to you and crawling over you. There, he lowers his body, chest to your cheek. 

“Listen.” He says, reaching to hold your face and press it up and against his chest. “Anything?”

You wait, listening for a thump, anything to prove he’s wrong. Fucking any sound at all to blow his cover. 

You’re frozen as you listen, your body going into fight or flight as the seconds turn to minutes. Unfortunately, your body is not a fighter, nor a flier. You’re stuck with his hand on your cheek, holding you so tightly against something you wish was alive. 

A little thump, thump, thump could be the most relieving sound to you, but no. There’s nothing. 

You pull away from him now, body still frozen but head running a mile a minute. How many proofs does he need to provide for you to understand that it’s not fantasy? 

And finally, you feel your body jerk away from him on its own. He’s startled by the movement and you use that short second to roll off of the bed. You do your best to stand, but your brain immediately pulses in pain. Your vision goes fuzzy, dizzy.

Right, you’ve lost a lot of blood tonight. To think your toes aren’t still numb, to think you’d be able to stand without dropping to the ground.

“Thousands of years.” Sunghoon stands quickly, stalking over you and wrapping his arms around you. There, he presses you back on the bed and straddles your hips. “I’ve never told another soul and let them live to remember it– until you.”

You shake under him, the weight feeling more dead now than it ever has. He’s heavy as he holds you down, but somehow his grip on you is gentle. His voice is soft. His eyes are hesitant. He’s not holding you here to hurt you, it seems.

“My love, I told you time and time again,” He glances away from you, feeling something within him shrivel at the thought that now you’re unwilling. “Is it different now? To find that I’ve told no lies to you?” 

Still, he soothes you as you try to comprehend reality. You think hard through the dizzy fog of blood-loss, running more with your mind than your body. He did tell you. And you’re still alive. He just drank and drank from you, and you’re still alive. 

He came to your apartment, he told you he smelled you. 

He’s never lied. 

You just refused to listen. 

He drank you, he fucked you, he held you, and now he’s holding you. 

“I don’t want you to fear me.” Sunghoon admits with sad eyes, trying to ignore how long it’s been since he’s felt sad at all. 

So many emotions you force him to feel, this was not one he was looking forward to. 

“How can I not be afraid?” You breathe out in slurred speech, as if to mock him, because you now know that he truly can’t do it himself. 

“It’s too late to be afraid.” He says apologetically. “You’d have died weeks ago had I wanted it.” 

Why are you still falling in love with his voice? With his stupid grammar, and his horrifying dead-skin? Even with the fear in your stomach, why does this make your heart flutter?

“I’ve never felt so full,” He admits now, releasing his grip on you slowly. He can smell your heart slow, knowing you’re starting to calm now. “Until now.” 

You stare up at him as your eyes recover back to clear vision, in awe of how gentle a killer is being with you. Inspecting the way he’s drenched in your blood, yet you truly still are breathing. He could have killed you time and time again. 

But he didn’t. 

He’s never once lied to you about what he is, and still you struggle to believe what he says. Even when his words match his actions. Sure, he’s a vampire, but he’s not going to kill you? 

What reason do you have to believe him save for the blatant truth behind it? Do you want to believe him? Would you rather be dead?

He knows you can’t fathom the truth so quickly though, and that’s why he’s being gentle. He has nothing more than patience to give to you, if it’ll end in your acceptance anyway. The fact that he can hear your heart beating correctly again only gives him hope that he’s right about not having killed you on the first night.

After all, he truly hasn’t lied to you. Never has he felt full, even after killing several a night. Always hungry, always thirsty, always needing more and more of the syrupy life strangers offer to him under his lure. But you. Entirely aware, flowing with blood that drives him crazy…you’ve managed to fill that desire in him. 

Why should he lie to you? Why would he kill you if there is no need? Despite fighting the instinct, he’s satiated by you. His cold body warms with yours. He will never get enough of you, so how on earth could he just…take that away from himself?

And you do stop fighting. In fact, you lay with him in a bloodied mess and sleep. Despite wanting to ask questions, wondering if he can even sleep at all. Your body is tired, your mind is still petrified, and your hands still cling to the source of it, unsure if you’ll make it to morning at all.

Still, somehow, this feels holy. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

PART TWO Fanart by @a-the-na 🖤🖤🖤🖤

[shomixremix]

HERDING THE CATTLE ♥︎

i saw something about this prompt on here like two years ago and it's been stuck in my head ever since ♡︎

tags: Arataki Itto, afab! reader, cow hybrid! reader, smut, fluff, marking, mating, rough sex, petnames, cowgirl, breeding, creampie

-> you are a small cow hybrid auctioned off to a slaughterhouse since you couldn't produce enough milk and were never calm. the arataki gang saved you, and your new master - the one and oni Arataki Itto - knows just how to keep you in check.

reqs open ♡︎ | minors DNI

"Ahh!! Itto! Itto-ooh! Mh! I-Itto!"

You whined as the Oni bounced you on his cock like you were weightless, watching in amusement as you cried in overstimulation. What was this, your ninth, tenth time cumming? You lost count. Itto never let you rest, not even for a second, bouncing you on his lap through every orgasm.

"Aww, you'r' so cute, love bug... Such a cute little cow, ain't ya'? Don't cry now, sweets, this is what ya' wanted, yeah? Only way I can tire you out, baby~"

Your master cooed, teasing you about being so restless. Oh, how you wished you could take everything back! No, you weren't bursting with energy like you said earlier, no, you couldn't go on forever - your legs were practically jelly at this point, your limp body completely at mercy to Itto.

He used you like a cocksleeve, dragged on his dick whenever he wanted and for however long he wanted - and you loved it. Life was good in the Arataki gang: you always had food, a place to sleep and protection provided to you, at all times. You also had a very tall, very strong and very handsome demon filling you up and breeding you almost daily, making sure your cushy womb was never empty.

The space where you connected was a mess. A glorious mess of both your and his juices seeping out of your hole, being fucked back in each time Itto would trust back. Just as every other day, your gummy walls pulsed around his length, making him shoot yet another load inside you.

"Fuck, baby... Makin' me lose my mind and shit..... So good.... Give me a little taste of that milk, will ya'?"

His large palms left your hips, greedily grabbing at the fat flesh of your boobs. As soon as he squeezed down just a tiny bit, a small stream of milk burst out, hitting Itto in the face. You were instantly mortified. Itto was your master, he saved you from certain death, and now you embarass him like this-

"I'm s-sorry Itto-! So sorry! Didn't mean to, I r-really didn't mean to!"

Instead of scolding you like you were sure any other owner would, the Oni burst out laughing. His laugh was like a roar, shaking his entire body - and with him, you as well.

"Hah, those jerks at the farm jus' didn't know how to milk ya', sweets, 'cause you look full of milk to me!"

It was true - even though you were sold to a slaughterhouse for failing to produce milk, you started leaking like crazy the moment Itto took you as his. That vet back at the farm you grow up on always said that you'd start producing milk if they paired you with a bull, and what better bull than a large, demon one?

Their loss, anyway. Now, all your milk belonged to Itto and his warm mouth, and not to some sketchy farmers who were only interested in selling it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of his sharp fangs on your nips, greedily sucking at the flesh and gulping down the sweet drink. His dick twitched inside you as he continued feasting, your own arms tightening around his head to pull him closer.

The second he detached himself from your chest he thrust out harshly, in the process accidentally completely pushing you from his lap. Even though Itto was mighty and strong, he wasn't exactly the sharpest. There was a slight possibility that he was so occupied with whatever he was doing that he forgot you were on him.

You watched as he stood up, leaving you sitting on your knees on the ground. The Oni spit a bit of your milk on his palm, then using that same hand to roughly jerk his cock. It was more than obvious that milk was one of his kinks.

Oh, but why would he jerk off with milk as lube when you were right there...? On your knees, right next to him, ready and waiting and... Oh, Archons, were you not enough for him anymore..?

When Itto first saved you, the deal was that you'd stay in the Arataki gang until they found you a new home. However, Itto insisted they keep you, even proclaimed you as his own "pretty girl that no one can touch!" He kept you all to himself, fell asleep with you in his arms at night, brought you any awesome flowers he found, even took you on good, honest dates when he'd get a little Mora! He even acted on his demon urges and sunk his fangs into your neck, mating you!

But what if he didn't want to spend the rest of his life with a little, useless cow? What if that wasn't even enough for his sexual urges any more..?

"I-Itto..." You cry, big tears pooling up in the corners of even bigger eyes, threatening to spill at any moment.

At the mention of his name the Oni turns to you, shocked to see you crying.

"Hey, hey, hey! Baby, what's wrong?!"

"Need you.... P-please..."

Not another word needed to be said. Itto immediately reacted, grabbing your soft, much smaller body and seating it once again on his lap, entering you in one swift trust until his tip was snuggly kissing your cervix.

"Shhh, sweets... Let your Oni take care of ya', hm? No need to cry! I thought you couldn't go on, love bug, that's why I stopped! But you really are a restless one, huh, calfie?"

You smiled warmely at the nickname as your head went fuzzy. You laid your pretty head on Arataki's chest - like always - and let him have complete control of how he fucks you.

Each one of his thrust was faster and more brutal than the last. Your pussy was already crying out, threatening to cum just from the first few thrusts. Itto noticed, pinching your puffy clit between his claws and rolling it around.

"OH, ITTO!" You scream in ecstasy, riding your high.

Your master wasn't going to be able to last much longer. With you bouncing on his cock the way you were and how your sweet little cunt was so tight that it was milking him dry, Itto lasted only a couple more thrusts.

"Hah... Haaah... Fuck, love bug... Really wanna milk me too, don't ya'? Ahh... Mmm.. Gonna breed you.. Hah... Gonna breed ya' so good, sweets.. You'll be all nice and full, and you'll get pregnant with my calfs, yeah? Put all that milk to good use, hm? Yeah, yeah!"

He started cumming as well, shooting rope after rope after rope of his sweet release inside you. You were filled to the rim, juices leaking out of your satisfied hole. Arataki didn't let any of it go to waste, his fingertips catching whatever's left and pushing it in.

As soon as you were filled, your hands reached for him, seeking comfort in his warm arms. Itto obliged instantly, carrying you like you were weightless, to the nearby camp they set up. Your master entered his tent, the biggest of the bunch, wrapping your body in a soft blanket and once again settling you in his arms.

"There ya' go, love bug. Comfy?" You nodded, which made Itto break out in a toothy grin. "Well, of course it is! The great numero uno Itto is at your service, baby, of course everything is awesome!"

You chuckled at the way he tooted his own horn, kissing his cheek and hiding your face in his large neck and shoulder.

"G'night, Itto.. Thank you..."

The Oni found your actions adorable, cooing at you: "Awww, sweets, no need to thank me! You know I always gocha. Thank you for being so good f' me, yeah? You're such a good, pretty little cow... I don't know how I got so lucky!"

He pressed a loving kiss on your forehead, caressing your legs with his large palm.

"G'night, baby.."

[r3starttt]

Ditto

a/n: part two of don’t delete the kisses! this whole story is based on me atp 🙁 I love new jeans and the song felt right so…

Prt.1 | Prt.3 | Prt.4

Warnings: mentions of suicide. very cliche and cheesy. fluff.

“I got nothing to lose. Stay in the middle. I like you a little”

If pain must come, may it come quickly.

Because I have a life to live, and I need

to live it in the best way possible.

If she has to make a choice, may she

make it now. Then I will either

wait for her or forget her.

You’d died some years ago, one day after your birthday to be specific. You’d left your family, friends and girlfriend with no previous warning, so suddenly that everyone that knew you broke into so many pieces when receiving the news.

Everyone felt so off, so confused. How could you be laughing with everyone just some hours before simply stop existing? Why didn’t you ask for help? How long had you planned the whole thing? How did all of this even work?

It was no surprise to anyone that you weren’t the most healthiest girl, but how did nobody ever notice that you weren’t good that day?

Your parents couldn’t stop blaming themselves, the rest of your family could not stop crying for months after you left, your friends couldn’t deal with school knowing you wouldn’t be there and your girlfriend, she felt so sick. She felt like maybe she should also try, just to be with you. She felt physically weak at your lost.

And if it wasn’t for the letters you left before doing what you did, if it wasn’t for your parents and their love for you, if it wasn’t for your girlfriend and the respect she’d always had for you. She would’ve probably done it.

“Mom, dad. I love you both with my entire heart. Words cannot describe it.

And I’m so sorry I left.

I have one las thing to ask you, please take care of Ellie.

Please be nice with my friends and take care of them like I did.

Please support on Ellie and let her support on you.

Please forgive me. I promise we’ll meet again.

Tons of love, your daughter.”

Those were the last phrases written on the letters you’d left for your parents. You’d planned everything for so long. And yes it sucked that you left but for you it was the best. You died so peacefully and made sure everyone knew.

You made sure everyone would move on.

And so they did.

And so you did.

You were born again. This time it was a pretty normal life, just you and your mom, some friends from school and that was it. But the more you grew up the more things started to get more complicated.

You’d had the most beautiful dreams about a freckled girl whose name was El, she had the most pretty smile you’d ever seen. And those dreams were so continuous, you’d have them every day. There were many pieces left but the general context was there, and honestly you felt like it wasn’t necessary, it all felt just too familiar.

You’d find out that El was actually Ellie, she loved dogs until one bit her and she never ever wanted to get a pet, until you got cats so she begged her dad to get her one. Everyone called you Mel so you just assumed that was your name. And Ellie was definitely your best friend.

But those dreams became nightmares, or at least that’s the feeling you got whenever you woke up. Ellie was always there, but you felt sad, you felt empty and annoyed all the time. And it felt so real.

You’d cry in your sleep and your mom would always come to your room to wake you up, but you never explained to her what was it. You had the feeling you shouldn’t tell her.

And it all made sense the moment you turned eleven. They weren’t dreams or nightmares, just your past life. And it made you feel sick because of everything that had happened.

It wasn’t your only memory, not even your only life. But that’s the one that came first to your mind.

And how could you just ignore it all when it felt incomplete? When you still remembered every detail of it and when you remembered all the promises you made to Ellie but couldn’t accomplish?

You had the same taste as her, same interests too, so your plan was to get to college with her, graduate together and then travel around the world together. Become rich together, have lots of cats and if you’d convince her, make a family.

But the heart is way more powerful than the mind, and it all stayed like that, like a dream some teens in love made one day.

From that age on your life had changed completely. Good grades without trying, thanks to all the previous knowledge, smarter than the rest of your classmates and more mature of course.

You did anything to search for Ellie, to understand why was she so important. Turns out she was the privileged one in this life, or that’s what it looked like since she’d go to the most prestigious schools. Roles this time were kinda inverted, or maybe it was just a coincidence.

There was nothing you could do to find her, at least not at that age. She lived far from you and attended to schools you could never afford.

So the only thing you could do was live your life as a normal person, grow up and find a way to get close to her.

And that’s what you did. You forgot she existed during most college, you were stresses and doing homework or studying all the time. Working on projects, doing exams.

You just didn’t had time to think on anything else. But it was worth it because that allowed you to get your dream job, and eventually your dream life.

“God, baby, I’m gonna miss you so much” your mom opened her arms, waiting for you to hug her. You practically run to her, she smelled so good, and she was always warm, how comfortable, how comforting “you’re sure you don’t want my help with building stuff?” right, you’d just moved to a not so small apartment.

“I promise mom, I’ll find a way to make it work” she kissed your forehead gently, laughing at the lipstick mark left on it “I’ll clean it, don’t worry” you stopped her hands before she’d try to clean it with her saliva “I hope you learn to value your mother once you see how hard it’s to be an adult”

“Oh stop the drama! you know I love you” now you were the one hugging her, tightly as if it was the last time you’d do it “Call me if you need anything, you know time never matters Mhm?” you nodded.

The moment your mom left and you closed the door you took a deep breath, because maybe you should’ve said yes.

There were at least 10 boxes displayed in the whole apartment. You didn’t even know what it was. The bed was already there, so was the couch and a huge tv, what else did you need and why had you bought so many things for the apartment?

“Fuck me”

You had a big body yes, but not strong at all. And yes you were smart, but not enough to understand the fucking instructions that came with everything you had to build for probably the next whole week.

It was late at night already, probably around 10pm, and so far you’d only managed to build your desk. You were currently sitting on the cold wooden floor as you ate some shitty ramen you’d bought thinking it would taste amazing. It didn’t and was stupidly spicy.

Your fingers were moving all over your phone, scrolling trough Pinterest and then trough Instagram and changing the same two apps over and over again until you finished eating.

All your lights were off but the light coming from the outside thanks to the huge windows was more than enough to illuminate the whole place. There was a small balcony right in front of the windows so you went outside, taking advantage of every place of the building since it costs almost too much for what it offers.

So you stay outside, resting your arms on the railing as you kept on scrolling through the same apps, looking for more inspiration for the apartment. Until you realize what you’d have to deal for the rest of your stance there.

A guitar being played coming from the apartment right next to yours. You sigh in annoyance because whoever is playing is not even good at it an you’ll probably have to listen to the same song until they learn how to play it.

“She wanted a band…” Ellie, your girlfriend, your best friend, the girl you broke her heart once, she wanted to become a singer, until you, her best friend, the girl she liked so much, told her how much she sucked at it. So stubbornly she quit and told everyone how it was your fault.

A sigh escaped out of your mouth, was it worth the try? would Ellie even fall for you again? was she even single? was she even your Ellie?

You’re so stupid.

-

The loud buzzing accompanied with a not so relaxing song wakes you up. 8 am in the morning, too early for a day of doing nothing-well, making your apartment look pretty.

You turn off the alarm and stare at the ceiling in pure silence for probably the next ten minutes.

It has been a week since you’d arrived the building. At this point you were already getting used to someone playing the guitar at night, you’d even go outside to hear the progress.

Back to today’s day. It all goes as what has become your new normal. You’d had the most non healthy breakfast and then you’d start to put together a new piece of furniture.

Today it was the last day of it actually, the only thing left was a small shelf that wouldn’t take much time.

And that could only mean one thing, today was the day you had to finally take out all the thrash.

So once you finished you lazily walked trough the whole apartment. Picking and folding boxes, and panicking over the exaggerated amount of plastic that came with the wrapping of all the furniture you’d bought.

You put all together so you didn’t had to go in and out of the building more than once and went outside your apartment, walking towards the elevator and sighing in pure relief because it was thankfully empty.

But things can’t be perfect because the moment you placed everything on the floor to throw them separately in the huge trash containers in front of you, the plastic started to fly away due to the weather.

Fucking unnecessary air.

Before you actually panicked a hand grabbed the huge piece of bubbly plastic, extending her arm back to you “need any help?”

Blessed necessary air.

Maybe your face looked as shocked as you felt because the very gorgeous Ellie standing in front of you tilted her head slightly, probably confused.

“Uhh yeah, thanks” you noticed how she had a tattoo on her right arm, she was wearing a pair of black jeans, some dirty converse and a white tank top under a baby blue plaid shirt-Were you staring too much?

“You just moved in?” she put the plastic under her arms and threw a small plastic bag on one of the containers “Mhm, a week ago” she nodded, awkwardly “I thought I was loud”

“Not at all, well, it’s probably the apartments, they’re kinda sound proof or something” you placed the last box on the container, meeting her eyes. They’re just as pretty as you remember.

“Really? I’ve been hearing this guitar all week at night, I don’t think they’re good if that’s the case” your two walked towards the building again, a small awkward smile forming on her face.

“Yeah…. that’s me, I thought no one could hear me. Sorry”

That changes all, suddenly the guitar is not annoying at all, in fact, you’re waiting for listening to it every night.

“Don’t worry it’s fine just… never mind” and then there was pure silence between the two of you as you walked inside the building.

“I promise I won’t be so loud” she was playing with her fingers “It’s fine, really. Im used to it by now” there were som loosen hair strands covering her face, she was looking down, probably ashamed “It’s the only free time I have to practice, I’ll try to to it earlier”

The elevator opened, she extended her arm so you would go inside first

“Its your house, feel free to do whatever you want, it doesn’t bother me el”

Fuck

“You know my name?” she panicked, maybe it was someone she knew but didn’t remembered?

“Mhm?” Play dumb, it always work

“You said el, did I hear wrong?”

“Yeah, probably” you clicked to the floor where you both lived at, turning your head towards her “Is that your name then?”

“No, actually, it’s Ellie. Ellie Williams” she extended her hand to you, she’s so cute, you thought. You did the same, shaking hands as you told her your name.

“Is it okay if I call you El then?” please say yes “yeah, I don’t mind it”

The moment you got in your apartment you wanted to scream. She was even prettier than what you remembered.

Your head kept on repeating the small conversation you just had with her, over and over again.

You decided to go to her apartment next day. being new in the building has its advantages, like casually gift her some food to maybe apologize for how loud you’d been even though you weren’t, or to thank her for being such a nice neighbor today, or any reason that gives you the chance to see her again.

-

There it is, Ellie’s guitar, at its usual hour.

You had just finished cleaning all the dishes you used for dinner. Fucking adult life. And were laying on the couch, scrolling trough social media.

Until you hear her of course.

Discretely you stood up from the couch, walking with your bare foot to the big cristal door that leaded to the balcony and getting outside, just like you did when you just arrived.

Hands resting on the cold railing, head resting on your wrists and Ellie’s guitar playing right next to you. This time one of the windows were open, she’d done it on purpose, didn’t she felt ashamed for being so loud- or maybe you’re exaggerating every interaction with her and overthinking everything that’s related to her.

-

The doorbell rings three times. 10 am. Too early.

A loud groan escapes from her mouth and she covers herself with her gray hoodie. She freezes the moment she steps out of bed because there’s only a pair of sorts covering her legs. Who the fuck is looking for her?

Maybe it was a bad idea to stay later at night playing the guitar for the pretty girl living next to her. She’s freezing, sleepy and exaggerated tired.

Or maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Oh…. did I wake you up? I’m so sorry” because there you are, standing right outside her door “Do I look so bad?” she chuckled, rubbing her eyes “I’m really sorry I just…. I wanted to thank you for yesterday and also apologize in case I was loud”

You extended your hand to her, giving her a small plastic bag with some food in it “I’m going out later, sorry for being here so early-“ she took the bag from your hands, finally looking back at you “it’s fine, you didn’t had to, really”

Would it be okay If she asked for your number? Would it be okay if you asked for her number?

“I was wondering If I could get your number too? just in case…”

You weren’t even finishing your sentence when she was already grabbing her phone

Maybe it was gonna be easier than you thought.

-

Week 7 of living here. It was indeed easier than you thought.

However there still was this thing bothering you. What should you actually do?

Yes you’ve met her casually and yes the bond with her was forming naturally. But what’s with your past life thoughts?

Because those “dreams” and “nightmares” had came back. And it was painful, because you regretted the decision you’ve made, almost every day. And it felt wrong to feel guilt, but how could you not?

And all these thoughts were eating you alive because what if you loose her again, what if she looses you again? Could you maybe talk with her about this? Or maybe-

“You good?” a cup of tea is placed in front of you. she sits right next to you, placing her legs on top of the chair. you nod.

“You zone out a lot” her lips curve upwards, making her dorky smirk appear. you smile back “There’s always thoughts on my mind, sorry”

“I wanted to ask you something…. don’t laugh alright?” “Don’t act so shy then” she rolled her eyes

You took a sip from the tea she had just made, staring at her face and trying to read the expression on it. She wouldn’t say anything.

“You can totally say no and I’ll act like nothing happened but uhm… would you maybe like to…. I don’t know, go out or something?

“As in a date or as in friends?” of course you knew what she meant, you couldn’t confusing the laughter “Yeah el, I’d like to go out with you” she smiled, moving her hands around her neck. She was probably burning inside from the shame.

“Is this how you always act around girls?”

“I always get asked first”

“Oh sorry miss hot, sorry for wanting to be asked first too”

“So you wanted to…. Why didn’t you ask?”

Her hands practically slapped her face, she’s so dramatic.

“I don’t understand how didn’t notice. I couldn’t stop looking at your tattoo when we met”

“I just thought you liked it”

“I also stared at your lips”

Silence. Just the sound of you sipping the tea, purposely loud.

“Stop it”

-

The date had basically been going out to every place near the building.

Walking trough a small park as you ate ice cream, shopping together at many thrifting stores and finding out you’re both so different yet with the same taste.

Both changing the conversation topic whenever a cute dog or cat passed by. Talking about pets, she sharing with you how she feared dogs when she was younger because one day a dog bit her, you feeling your heart almost exploding because it reminded you of the old Ellie.

Lots of small fights over who’d pay for the food and eventually letting her pay for you. Ellie wanting to hold you but being to shy to do it until you decided to grab her hands and then she wouldn’t let you go.

“Tell me more about your childhood, how was it to be born rich?” hopefully it wasn’t as depressing as you’d experienced it on your past life.

You were holding hands, walking back to your apartment. It was night already, not too late though.

“Great actually, I didn’t had to put much effort growing up. School was a pain in the ass thought, my parents would pay me classes to study after school and when they knew what I wanted to study in college they almost fainted, they practically told me I wasn’t that smart” a chuckle came out of her mouth “But they were always there for me. I didn’t have many friends though, I’ve always been very shy and introverted. What about you?”

You were too focused on how pretty she looked. She noticed and just smiled at you.

Was it the right time to kiss you?

“My life’s normal, I only have my mom and I’ve never connected with people so I just had some school friends growing up, nothing too deep. I was smarter than the rest of my class so I could skip some school years”

“I thought you were my age” her lips pouted in confusion “so you asked me out without being sure of my age? What if I’m five years younger than you?”

“You were the one to accept” she let go of your hand, holding her arms on the air acting innocence “I’m just two years younger, don’t worry you’re not doing anything ilegal”

Your arm extended, holding her hand again. Both of you gettin inside the building and then walking to the elevator.

Maybe now it was the right time to kiss you?

Her lips pressed on yours. Both of you closed your eyes, you could feel the grip on your hand tightening softly.

Your bodies felt like they were made for each other. The way her hands were the perfect size for yours, the way her fingers intertwined with yours, the way her mouth touched yours so delicately and so perfect.

The way your hands were the perfect size to fit on the back of her neck. The way her hands were the perfect size to fit your cheeks.The way your noses touched trough the kiss.

How beautifully your hearts had the same beat. How your breathing was as steady as hers.

It was a weird feeling that both or your bodies experienced as soon as you kissed. So familiar, so warm, so comforting. A deep form of love that could be experienced all over the body. A love that felt so safe and addictive.

And you two were craving for more.

Ding

The elevator opened, making the both of you break the kiss, which didn’t even last much, but it felt eternal, it felt like the right thing on the right moment.

The way your bodies and faces changed after it spoke more than words could ever. She couldn’t stop staring at you, and you weren’t precisely trying to avoid her so you did the same.

The dizziness that the elevator itself cause on the body combined with the way you two felt was almost too much to take. It felt so overwhelming, and finally it was in a good way for your body.

To you it just felt like peace, like you’ve done the right thing. No more regret or remorse, no more fear or anxiety.

To her it felt like this was meant to happen, like a deja vu that came out of nowhere but was meant to appear. Like if this had a deeper meaning behind it and she had to discover what it was. Like all of this had a deeper purpose for her and her life.

Soulmates, she thought. But it couldn’t be, she didn’t believe in that.

Ding

The elevator opened again

“Do you mind staying with me?” you finally stop holding hands with her, just to look for your keys. But before you could get your hand in the pocket of your jeans she stopped you “Stay at mine, I wanna show you something” a dumb smile appeared on your face.

It wasn’t the first time you’d go to her apartment but you’ve never seen it properly, you’ve never been there at night either.

-

You had arrive to the building probably about three hours ago. It was currently 12 am, Friday.

You were on her balcony as she played the guitar. She only knew a couple of songs and wanted to show to you how she didn’t suck as much as you thought she did.

And you gladly accepted. You had the perfect view of her tattoo on full display as she played the guitar, you could hear her pretty voice as she sang and the light coming from the other buildings was just perfect.

Ellie on the other hand, she could see your pretty eyes shining at her sight, she could see the way your hair fit you just perfectly on your body. How there’s some strings of hair tucked behind your ears. How pretty you smile is as she sings.

And it might be exaggerated but she feels like you’re the one. Like you didn’t just move to this building for no reason, like she didn’t decided to take the trash out that day so randomly for no reason, like you didn’t just appeared in her life for no reason.

You couldn’t just be a small romance on her life and then leave. This couldn’t be temporary.

You made her feel so familiar, like she had known you for years. She decided to believe in destiny, she believed that maybe you two were just meant to find each other, like this was meant to be. And you were just fine with it.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” your voice came out low, almost like a whisper. Her head moved towards you, she hummed thinking about her answer “Or…. reincarnation”

That word made her feel shivers all over her body. An image showed on her head for just the blink of an eye, almost too fast to even notice.

She was laying on the bed with someone else besides her, same question being asked. It changed her response.

“Maybe” unconsciously she but her bottom lip, just staring at you “do you?” she saw you nod. Your eyes were looking straight to hers, and for the first time on her life she didn’t felt like looking away. She felt unexplainably comfortable with you.

“Don’t mind me being so weird but…. I already know you” she just laughed “I’m sure we’ve met before, somewhere else at a different time”

“Maybe it wasn’t the right place, or the right moment” so she agreed? “I feel the same but I don’t think I’ve seen you before though” would it be okay if you tell her the truth? Would she believe it?

“Why you think that is?” and unconscious sigh escaped your mouth “What?” “Everything” she chuckled, lowering the guitar to the floor.

“Maybe destiny wanted something different, but love always wins right?” no, it doesn’t “And maybe we ate too much and it’s too late so we’re wandering” she stood up, white socks stepping on the floor as she walked inside. She stood on the frame of the door, waiting for you to get in.

“Wanna watch a movie?” She closed the door and placed her guitar on a wall, her place somehow was so tidy.

It had a lot of things though, a bunch of furniture filled with comics, books and vinyls. Some figures that looked pretty expensive. You only recognized the spider man one.

She had a console near the huge tv placed in her living room, and a bunch of pillows alongside a small blanket on the couch.

“Why do you have so many pillows in here?” she was already turning the tv on, laying on the couch and patting besides her so you would sit there. And so you did.

“I take a lot of naps in here during the day and fall asleep after working, I don’t realize I’m sleepy until I can’t even stand up so I decided to bring this here”

How could she be so lazy? and why was it so hot of her to be lazy?

“So you take naps while you should be working?” she nodded “I’m guessing you’ve been doing it for years now, I can’t believe you still have the job”

She just shrugged, casually opening her arms along the couch. And who in this earth would deny to cuddling with her?

None of you realized but eventually both just felt asleep, hugging each other, embraced by the warm blanket she’d covered you both before playing the movie.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I didn’t let my friend bring their partner to social events?

We are all in our 30s and all trans/NB/queer. My friend (B) and I have known each other nearly 20 years, and over those years they’ve had a rough dating history. They’ve had several emotionally and mentally abusive or neglectful partners, further details about that I won’t give here. I’ve met most of them and they’ve always disliked me for various reasons (usually they were just jealous of the place I held in their life).

Recently though, B seems to have found someone who makes them happy (we’ll call them T) and T treats them better than their previous partners. Which is great! I’m happy for B. But I find T insufferable.

Granted, I don’t have to see T very often, but when I do its always uncomfortable.

The first time I met T they trauma dumped immediately. In the first half hour I knew all about their horrible family but couldn’t tell you any hobby or interest they had. We were in a very public place and I didn’t feel it was the most appropriate topic to get to know someone, but I tried to relate with my own stories all the same. However, T always had to “one up” every story I told. it felt like a “whose childhood was worse” competition.

The second time we all hung out T ignored me completely, really only hanging around and talking to B. Since it was B’s birthday I didn’t really mind at all. Plus, we were at a beercade so everyone was kinda off doing their own thing. But even when we all sat down they just kinda threw looks my way but didnt say a word to me.

But most recently I had hosted a halloween party (it was only 8 folks so tiny party) where B and T both showed up. When T asked me how work was going I started with what I felt was a normal “Ah yeah, it sucks but—” and before I could say anything else they spoke over me to say

“Yeah you’ve mentioned you hate your job every time I’ve seen you so thats sort of my only impression of you :/ ”

(a possibly important side note: B and T are both doing things that they enjoy but have to hustle a bit to make ends meet whereas I have a full time retail job through which i have insurance so leaving isnt as easy for me since I have more tied up in my job than just a paycheck)

This really pissed me off, as not only is being interrupted a huge pet peeve, but there are aspects of my job I enjoy. I just never got to talk about them because the conversation would either divert or we would just stop talking altogether. Also the way they came across felt pretty judgmental.

T then proceeded to spend the rest of the evening talking about everything from the movie to the snacks with therapy speak and trauma processing. (ex: I think I’m locked into this movie because it might’ve been a safe haven for me during my childhood and I just dont remember watching it but I can feel its importance to me) And only ever to B, never engaging with anyone else.

(another note: they are not the only one at the party with anxiety. two of my other friends have severe social anxiety and while maybe a little awkward were still able to hold casual conversations. no one was a stranger to anyone at the party)

This also meant that I didn’t get to spend any time with B during the party either, which was a shame cause I see them so rarely.

I understand that trauma processing is important and its great if you have someone in your life that can help you. It does not need to happen every where all the time. And I’m worried that B might be getting taken advantage of like they have in the past (in the sense that they have to do all the emotional legwork in the relationship and get very little of that effort back).

I’m tired of catering to this attitude and I don’t enjoy being around them, so I no longer want to involve them in group events I host.

would that make me an asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[svtspeach]

Grief as we know it

Pairing: Seungcheol x Reader

Genre: Pure Angst 

Warning: Grief, Death, Angst, Injuries (but not in depth and accurate, lol. my medical knowledge is from Grey's Anatomy), Not proofread (lol I don’t know how to this yet, by this i mean putting all the warnings haha)

Word count: 674 words

Author’s note: Hi, Everyone! So I am new here and I don’t really know how to navigate this site as an author but I guess I’m trying my best? This is just a blurb that I wrote at 1 am in the morning and yeaaa, let me know if you like it and if you would want to see a longer version of it! See ya! 

----

The Loss

Choi Seungcheol was a quick-witted man, everybody knew that. He was able to respond quickly and effectively in situations of high pressure. Another thing about Seungcheol was that he was selfless, he would always sacrifice himself for the other people’s happiness and comfort. Seungcheol was also the epitome of bravery, a trait that everyone has always praised him for. He has never been afraid to take risks and stand up for what he believes in. It was his strongest trait, and one that you loved most about him. That is, until that trait was the thing that led him to the biggest sacrifice of his life and straight to the arms of death. 

“Can you repeat that for me again, please?” you said for the second time. It’s not that you didn’t hear the doctor’s voice, in fact you heard him loud and clear. But you just couldn’t seem to process the words coming out of doctor standing in front of you. 

“Miss, your partner was taken to the emergency room after a vehicle crash. From what we heard from the paramedics, he jumped in front of a loose truck in order to save a little girl and her grandma. He came in with several fractures, a puncture in his abdomen, and a severe head trauma. We took him in for an emergency surgery to repair the damages and we tried the best we could, but the damage was so severe, and he couldn’t…” the doctor explained once more but for some reason, you couldn’t seem to let yourself hear the end of his sentence. 

It didn’t matter how he was going to say it anyways. Seungcheol is dead and you just lost the love of your life. 

The Grief

Seungcheol has always been a constant in your life. You weren’t friends since childhood or anything of sorts, but you have been dating him for four years and living with him for two. It didn’t seem like a long time, but being with him most of the time for the past two years have made you feel so accustomed to his presence. You were deeply in love with him, in the best way possible. 

Loving him and being loved by him was the best thing you have ever experienced your whole life. It was fulfilling, warm, and nurturing. You like the person you have become when you are with him, and you loved how you were able to push for each other’s growth. Being in love with him was not suffocating, in fact it felt liberating, you felt like you were supported and cheered upon every step you take. You really felt like you have found the love of your life, and that you were going to spend the rest of your life with each other. 

You knew that you don’t want to live in a world without Seungcheol. Not because you can’t live without him, you know that you would be able to continue and move on with your life, but you knew that you were going to be miserable. And you were, indeed, very miserable right now. 

They say that the feeling of missing someone comes in waves. Initially, the grief hits you hard. It was intense and strong like a storm. The ocean of longing is calmer now, but the wave of yearning still washes over you now and then and it still sucks. It hits you in unexpected moments like now. You were watching a movie with your best friend, and you’ve reached the part where the main characters finally kissed each other passionately. Your mind started to drift away, and you tried to remember the last kiss you shared with Seungcheol, but you can’t. That’s because you thought that you had forever with Seungcheol, but you don’t. You never thought that the last time would be the last time because you thought that you would have more. It might not be as painful anymore, but you can feel the pieces of your heart slowly falling apart again. 

[ftmtftm]

I’m sorry but until xenogenders and neopronouns can understand that I don’t want to “share my pronouns”, that I want to go through life as a normal, binary man, that I want assumptions to be made, that t isn’t some fun thing but a medical necessity for the rest of my life, that being trans isn’t a celebration but a condition for me and that I never want to be in a pride parade or even really open about it, until y’all can respect that, every single one of you, at least the fucking majority of you, then i can’t take anything seriously. I have been outed, assaulted, misgendered, and a whole bunch of other shit by “Tucutes” who walked all fucking over me as a binary trans person, I’ve been forced to be okay with they/them pronouns and been forced to be called the t-slur by a fake trans person because it was “affirming” for them to use on “other trans people”, I’ve been forced to wait years for t because the lines weee clogged up because people wanted to microdose it because they didn’t actually want the effects but they wanted to feel special, I’ve been outed as trans by fake trans people who want everyone to know what a cool catch I am, I’ve been told how gross t made me, I’ve been pushed out of every space that makes an effort to include as many people as possible because they start using rhetoric that sounds like the same rhetoric my transphobic father uses.

I cannot ever find joy in being trans, there is nothing to find joy in for me. Ever. I’m sick of people acting like it’s fun and silly and goofy. I’m sick of people appropriating a medical condition. I will always be sick of it. I am truly sorry that you had someone assault you and that they happened to be part of a community that I am also, but all transmeds want is some fucking respect for not doing this for whatever “euphoria” or political reason but because we fucking have to. All we want is respect and to not have our medical condition turned into playing make believe that you’re a “catgender” or an alien or whatever the fuck, do that on your own terms I don’t care, but the association with dysphoria and the fact that you will spit in the fucking faces of dysphoric binary trans people? That’s why transmeds exist

.

Bullet points because genuinely, my patience is beginning to run very thin for you anon. My ask box and the new post button have two separate functions and I think there is one you should be using instead of the other.

This is just attention seeking behavior at this point, and I'll give it to you and I'll be compassionate but I won't let your shit slide.

I'm sorry, but this is genuinely like looking in a mirror at my 15-20 year old self and it sucks and I honestly feel very sorry for you. Your pain and upset is very real. Your feelings do matter. And? You need to talk to a mental health professional. Serious advice. You need a therapist or some kind of support group if you do not have one already. That is a lot of baggage that deserves to be explored with someone who can genuinely help you in a controlled environment - not the askbox of random trans people you take issue with because they remind you of traumatic events in your life. Your triggers and people who remind you of people who have hurt you are your responsibility to deal with. It's not the business of people who are literally just living their lives in ways that make them happy. The world doesn't need to change around you for your own comfort, you need to change yourself to make yourself comfortable.

It's honestly okay if being trans makes you upset. It's okay to lament and even grieve a life you wish you had but can't have because you are not cis. Again though, that is not an issue that people who aren't like you are causing though. It's genuinely your business to deal with those emotions - not theirs.

You are not a doctor. You are not a medical professional. You are not the one giving care and other people's medical needs, decisions, and histories are none of your g'ddamn business. It is absolutely ridiculous that wait times are what they are and that access to care is not what it should be - but that is a failure of the system not the people. You legitimately sound like working class folks who complain about people on food stamps "taking up all the government resources" and people who complain that "immigrants are taking all our jobs" right now. You are putting the burden of the system onto the individual when it legitimately isn't their fault. Ultimately you are actively being failed by the medical system you are attempting to covet, not by your fellow trans people.

I've also been told I'm disgusting for being on T. I've also been told I'm disgusting for wanting facial and body hair, for feeling comfortable in my masculinity, for loving being a man in all of its complexities. Even by other trans people. You are not alone in that experience. The solution to working through those emotions isn't to throw conservative complaining about food stamps and immigrants level tantrums about it like you are doing now though.

Being trans can be fun. Being trans can be silly and goofy. Again, it might not be that way for you and it sounds like you've been in an environment where you're not allowed to love yourself for any reason, let alone for being trans, so it's probably very hard for you to conceptualize experiences outside of your own - but you sound... very young. I promise it gets better with time and distance. Please leave the environments you are in when you are able, they don't sound healthy for you.

Point of order: My ex was not a transmedicalist, by any means. I was assaulted by them and felt disgusting and dysphoric because of it and found transmedicalism on my own afterwards to try to validate my sense of self. I was hurt by someone else and then turned my hurt into a weapon. It sounds like you've been hurt and are also turning that hurt into a weapon. I hope some day you're able to put it down.

[withacapitalp]

Countdown Pt 3

Part One Part Two

Tw: Slight suicidal ideation and general grieving

--------------------------------------

They only carry a couple things with them on the run. 

Surviving the apocalypse isn’t pretty, and it’s easier to make a quick escape if they’re always traveling light. Essentials only, with a few sentimental items so they don’t completely lose their minds. 

Nancy had her journals, Max had her skateboard (even if she couldn’t use it right now), Will brought a pack of colored pencils, and Steve was pretty sure Hopper had somehow saved a half a pack of smokes. 

And Steve….Steve has a shoebox. 

It’s an old thing, held together with duct tape and decorated with sharpie doodles. Wayne had given it to him right before he left town, along with the necklace that Steve kept around his neck every moment of every day. 

He’s never let any of them look in it. They think he’s insane, but they’re not the ones with zeroed out timers.

This shoebox is all he has left of his soulmate. 

What’s inside would seem like junk to most people. A handful of rocks of varying size, shapes, and colors. A leather cuff with spikes that Steve had immediately put around his timer wrist to hide it from view. A matchbook from a gay bar in Indianapolis, a Spalding bouncy ball. Some hand-sewn patches with logos he didn’t recognize, three different mini figures, a dozen faded beautiful photographs, and a single mixtape. 

Only Robin knew about the mixtape. He had only told her in case they needed a song for him. That mixtape was the only thing in the world that had the song that could save his life. 

But the most important thing in that box was the letters. 

He read one every night. He had promised himself he wouldn’t read more than one. It was routine. When it was his turn to be on watch and the rest of their family was sound asleep, Steve would open his shoebox, pull out a letter, and read it. 

The first one is probably his favorite. It was written in dark red marker on yellow construction paper, the edges ripped and torn with age. The marker bled through the back of the paper where the child who wrote the letter had pressed down too hard, and Steve could imagine the way his fingers must have stained from the ink. Blood red. The same way his fingers were stained when he died. 

7/4/1971 

TWO SULMAYT,

HI.

I AM EDDIE MUNSON. I AM FIVE YEARS OLD. I LIKE TRUKS. YU SHUD LIKE THEM TO. WE CAN WATCH THE BIG TRUKS! 

WHAT IS YUR NAMY? 

BIE

LUV EDDIE

P. S. I HAD A NANA FOR BRIKFEST. YUM. 

There was a picture of two giant monster trucks under the words, and a tiny thing Steve assumed was a banana under the postscript. Steve keeps that one tucked in his jacket pocket, just in case he ever loses his bag or his precious shoebox. 

He keeps the first in his side pocket, and keeps the last one in the breast pocket right above his heart

6/13/1986

Hi Love,

The first one says ‘Two Sulmayt’ but every one after that starts with ‘Hi Love’. 

Steve can’t help wondering if Eddie would have eventually called him ‘Love’ if they had gotten more time. 

Well, if you’re reading this, then I guess my plan to be the one that lived really didn’t work out. Damn, that sucks. Probably a little bit more for you than for me. 

I don't know how you dealt with knowing we only had five days, but I thought it was kinda fucked. Like damn, really? Five? The universe sure has a funny sense of humor, doesn’t it, Love? Or maybe it just hates me. That is also a very real possibility. 

Maybe. But if the universe hated Eddie, then it must hate Steve more for making him continue to live. For giving him other people to love, people to care about, people to force him to not give up. 

Anyways this is how I dealt with it. If you only get five days to have me, I’m going to make sure you know me. Or know who I was at least. One letter a month for the last 12 years, and a bunch of random one off ones from when I was little. Before I lived with Wayne it was kind of catch as catch can with paper and stuff, and I was also like seven, so how many letters do you really want from a seven year old who still can’t spell ‘Difficulty’?

I know how to now, by the way. Mrs. D, Mrs. I, yada yada. Do you ever wonder why all those women are married? I think that’s stupid. Forced conformity, even in our nursery rhymes. 

That joke always made Steve laugh. He’s read this letter so many times it’s starting to come apart at the creases, but it still made him pause and chuckle. 

Anyways. This is yours. Eleven letters a year for twelve years is one hundred and thirty two. Adding in the ones from before, it’s probably around a hundred and fifty. It’s not the same as having me around, but if you spread them out, you might get thirteen years or so before you have to start rereading them. 

Or read them all in one sitting. Do whatever you want. 

Steve had counted. It was one hundred and forty one. He read one new one a night, because every single day they survived seemed like a miracle right now. 

He only had seventy three more left. 

Not like I can stop you, haha. 

That’s probably not as funny to you as I want it to be. Sorry, Love. 

It wasn’t funny. Not in the slightest. Steve wanted Eddie here, wanted him to tell him to wait. He wanted Eddie to write him more letters. 

Oh, I also included a bunch of stuff I thought was too cool to lose, and a mixtape with songs that I wrote for my band. I thought you might want to get to hear my voice. It’s probably stupid, but you don’t have to listen to them if you don’t want to. 

Steve listened to it. They had been forced to scrounge up new batteries for his walkman three times because it kept dying. 

Everything in this box is yours, Wayne has strict instructions to give it to you. And, anything of mine Wayne doesn’t want is for you too.

Wow. A whole trust fund of trailer park trash. Some people leave their soulmates huge inheritances. I left you rocks and pictures and a shit ton of letters. Aren’t you lucky, Love? 

He was lucky. He had seventy three more letters. Seventy three more reasons to survive another day. 

After that…Steve wasn’t sure if he would be lucky anymore. 

Now if you’re good at math- which I hope you are, because I’m terrible at it- then you might be saying to yourself ‘Is my soulmate an idiot? Does he not know there’s twelve months in a year?’ 

No. I’m actually incredibly smart, even though my grades don’t really show it. I rewrite this top of the box letter every year on my birthday, and then I burn the last one. It’s a fun, extremely morbid, tradition. 

I’m 20 today, Love. I wonder how old you are a lot. I hope you’re close to my age at least. Maybe you’re like fifty years older than me, and I meet you when you’re on your deathbed, and that’s why we only have five days. 

They had only gotten five days because Steve hadn’t just taken Eddie and run. He should have just told Eddie to go as far from Hawkins as possible the second he realized. Fuck the rest of the world, fuck stopping the apocalypse. The best part of Steve was already dead. 

Two whole decades, but somehow I’m still in high school. I failed. Again. I wrote a lot about it in my letter last month, so I’m not going to talk about it again. Suffice to say I’m pretty bummed. I mean, c’mon, even Steve Harrington managed to graduate last year, and that guy barely even went to class during senior year. 

That part of the letter always made his stomach turn. He hated the reminder of all the wasted time, the little nudge that always told him it was his fault they barely had any time. 

If he had only looked up. 

Oh, well. This one is it. ‘86 baby! I’d say I want this to be the year I meet you, but I really want to graduate, so maybe hold off for just one more year? Stay wherever you are for just twelve more months, Love, just to be safe. Then I can put a picture of me flipping off my principal in this box for you. I’ll add my diploma in too, just to prove to you I did it. 

Eddie wasn’t going to get a diploma. 

If you wait a year, I’ll give you twelve more letters. So just wait one more year. By then, I think I’ll know what to say to make this better. I’ll know what to do to fill the gap I know you’re going to have. I’ll have something to say that will fix all this. I say that every year, and I never do, but hey, ‘86. 

Nothing anyone said would fix this. Nothing Eddie could write would fill the hole left in Steve’s soul. Nothing. 

I’m sorry. 

I say that every year too. 

Steve didn’t want apologies. He didn’t want letters. He didn’t want a hard to hear voice on a single mixtape. 

He wanted Eddie. 

Well. Happy birthday to me. One more year without meeting you. Eleven more letters. You better be doing something just as nice for me in case it's you that bites it, or I’m bringing your ass back just to kill you again. 

Steve didn’t care if Eddie killed him. Eddie could reappear right now and immediately shoot Steve and he would die happy. He just wanted one more minute. Just a little more time. 

…Wait just a little bit longer. I’ll have better words next year. 

Can you do that for me, Love?

P.S. You should read the first letter I wrote to you, just to appreciate how eloquent and charming I am in this one. 

Eddie called him ‘Love’. Eddie asked him to wait. Eddie wanted to have the right words. He wanted to live long enough to save Steve from his own broken heart.

Steve wishes he had waited.  

[bro-atz]

at some point, we grow up

in which: you and minjae are neighbors and grew up together not being able to stand each other, only for feelings to change as you got older

pair: minjae/gn!reader (brief moments of junmin/gn!reader)

word count: 6k

content: fluff, childhood friends, enemies to not really enemies?? (friends to lovers??? enemies to lovers???), barely friends, love triangle andioop, high school romance, kissing, one-sided crushes, love thy neighbor

apply for the permanent taglist here!

“Hey, it’s my turn to build the castle!”

You snatched the tiny shovel from your friend, only for him to snatch it right back. Upset, you complained to his mom. “Auntie! Minjae won’t let me build the castle!”

“Minjae, it is Y/N’s turn, so give the shovel back,” Minjae’s mom came in clutch.

“But this is our sandbox, and it’s in our yard. Y/N lives next door,” Minjae said, making somewhat of a valid point.

“Okay, but you suck at building castles. If I do it, then at least we’ll have an actual castle that won’t fall apart in two seconds.”

“I’ll crush your castle in one second, then.”

“Auntie!”

That’s was pretty much how most of your childhood went: playing in the backyard with your next door neighbor, Minjae. The aunties in the neighborhood liked to joke that the two of you would grow up and get married, but they’d immediately take it back when they saw you chase Minjae around the neighborhood with a worm on a stick or a ball of mud. Minjae was also afraid of heights, and you used that to torment him whenever he was being mean or annoying by grabbing one of his shoes then climbing up a tree so that he couldn’t get it, thus earning the nickname of monkey (well, Minjae was the only one who ever called you monkey).

On your way to school, you would never, ever sit next to him on the bus. He was a popular kid, so he sat in the back of the bus. You, on the other hand, wanted to get off the bus as soon as possible, so you sat in the very first seat. Sure, you were neighbors and would play together after school, but that didn’t mean you had to be friends with him in school. Honestly, you wouldn’t even categorize Minjae as being a friend. He was a last resort— someone you tolerated just enough that you would let go of whatever grievances you have with him in order to avoid a boring day at home.

Minjae seemed to be the same way. At school, he wanted nothing to do with you. When it was time for recess, he and his friends would be on the court playing basketball while you and your friends would play on the playground swinging from the monkey bars or going down the slide or just sitting on the swing waiting for the wind to push you. Even if you both were in the same homeroom, you would keep your distance. He didn’t want people knowing he was your neighbor, and likewise you with him.

There were eleven houses on your block, and the families on the block would gather for potlucks every so often. You and Minjae were the oldest out of all the kids. The rest of the kids were younger than you by a year or two difference, but when you’re a kid, a year is such a huge difference. You and Minjae never wanted to interact with the younger kids because they were so young and obnoxious, and the two of you had more experience in life. That being said, you hated that there was no one else for you to really hang out with at those dinners.

Usually, during these dinners, the families would be busy eating and chatting in the dining room while the rest of the kids would sit in the living room, eating and talking or watching TV. The younger kids always wanted to play while the older kids opted to watch TV. The two of you would sit together— but not too close— and just watch whatever was playing in silence.

The running joke during these dinners was that you and Minjae were going to end up together (which wasn’t really refuted by the time you both entered middle school because you stopped chasing Minjae around with bugs), but you and Minjae still got annoyed by the teasing to the point where the two of you stopped hanging out after school— heck, you both had to walk home after school, but you never walked together even though you were next door neighbors. That being said, you would still reluctantly keep each other company at these stupid neighborhood block dinners.

“Dude, you’re breathing so loud. Shut up,” you told Minjae at one of the dinners while kicking his leg.

You both were in your final year of middle school. The other kids were in their own world as per usual, and you and Minjae decided to watch a movie as per usual, but Minjae was breathing too loud for you to watch the movie.

“I’m not breathing loud. You are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

The two of you started kicking each other while yelling insults at each other.

“Do you have a problem with watching a movie silently or something? Just stop breathing for a second!” you said with complete annoyance.

“Your nose is the one that keeps whistling! Remind me to tell auntie to make you get plastic surgery— that should also help fix your ugly monkey face,” Minjae shot back.

“You’re the ugly one, mop head! If you won’t stop breathing, then I’ll make you stop breathing!”

You got Minjae in a headlock and pinned him to the ground, hoping that if you choked him hard enough that he’d stop breathing and you could watch the movie in peace.

“Ew, get a room,” one of the boys commented as he looked at the two of you.

“Shut up, Hyunwoo,” both you and Minjae spat out.

“Aw, you both are synced up and everything. You’re totally meant to be,” Sumin, one of the more chaotic boys of the group, teased.

“Bro, I will make you stop breathing, too,” you warned him.

“Ha, I’d like to see you try!”

Next thing you all knew, everyone worked together to tear you and Sumin apart. You had your hand around his neck while he had your hair bunched up in his fists. Jinsik, Sumin’s best friend, was pulling Sumin away while Yujun, one of the youngest boys, worked on getting his fingers out of your hair. Junghoon, Hyunwoo’s best friend, and Hyunwoo pulled your hands away from Sumin’s neck while Minjae had his arms wrapped around your waist and tried to pull you away that way. Hunter, Seeun, and Yechan, the other younger kids of the group, were busy laughing at the whole scene.

“You both gotta stop before the parents see, guys!” Yujun rationalized.

Reluctantly, the two of you released one another. You glared at Sumin, who responded with a stink eye. You lunged at the annoying-ass boy again, but Minjae was still holding you back.

“F— Minjae! Let go!” you nearly swore as you tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

Immediately, Minjae let go, earning a look of disgust from you.

“See? Meant to be,” Sumin teased once more.

“I’ll kill you!”

The rest of the night consisted of the other eight boys trying desperately to keep you and Sumin away from each other.

One day on your way back from school in the wintertime, it was snowing outside. You, like an idiot, forgot to bring a scarf or a hat to protect yourself from the snow. Snow didn’t bother you like that, but it did make your hair wet, and you always got sick after walking outside in the cold with wet hair. You stood by the exit and sighed deeply before walking outside into the winter wonderland.

After two minutes of walking in the snow, your hair was covered with thick chunks of snowflakes. You brushed the snow out of your hair before it could melt when you suddenly felt something land on your head— a hat. You looked to your side to see Minjae walking right next to you bundled up in his winter jacket, his face buried in a knit scarf.

“Thanks...” you mumbled while you put the hat on properly. “I’ll return it to you later.”

“No, that’s for you. Mom made it for you and told me to give it to you. I kept forgetting,” Minjae said roughly.

“Oh… Tell her I said thanks.”

“Will do.”

After the conversation ended, you thought Minjae was going to walk ahead to maintain some distance between you two, so you were surprised to see that he was walking right next to you. You didn’t want to say anything because, while you didn’t really care for his company, it was nice not walking home alone for once. The entire walk home, you both were completely silent while listening to your own music with your own ears buds in both ears, but you kept each other company.

High school was pretty much the same as elementary school. You thought you and Minjae had gotten closer since middle school, but he went right back to his old ways after middle school ended, but you weren’t bothered because you had your own friends and the two of you didn’t even have classes together, so you really weren’t upset that the distance between you two grew. Well, that’s how it was freshman year. Sophomore year, however, things changed.

There was a new family that moved into the block. There was an older couple who moved out— they never had a kid, so your group didn’t change— but the new family had a son named Junmin. He was in the same year as you and Minjae. You briefly interacted with Junmin at the first block party that he attended, but other than the parties, you had no real reason to interact with him.

Minjae was already on the school basketball team freshman year, so when Junmin joined the team sophomore year, the two of them immediately befriended each other. They would sit together on the bus ride home (whenever they didn’t have practice) all the time and talk and laugh while you sat elsewhere talking to some of the other kids in the neighborhood. Even when the three of you got down at the same bus stop, you would just walk home without acknowledging either of them, your headphones blasting music in your ears to make you seem like less of a dick. However, that dynamic only lasted the one semester. It was the first day of the spring semester classes that your world changed.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Junmin greeted you one morning.

He plopped into the seat and sat right next to you. Despite the fact that you had headphones in, you could still hear him. It was too early in the morning for you to react in a timely manner, so you sat and stared at him in bewilderment before responding, “Good morning…”

“Is it okay if I sit here?”

Junmin asking that question well after he got comfortable in the seat was kind of pointless, and while you didn’t really want him to sit next to you, the bus was already moving. You had no choice but to nod. You turned away from him and turned up the volume of the song you were listening to, hoping that he would get the hint and not talk to you. Even though you were listening to music on full blast and you were looking out of the window, Junmin wanted to talk.

“Y/N, I have a question,” Junmin patted your shoulder lightly, trying to get your attention.

With a heavy sigh, you paused your music, took your headphones out, and gave him your somewhat complete attention. As much as you didn’t want to talk to him, he wasn’t a bad kid, so you didn’t want to be too rude to him.

“Why don’t you ever sit with us in the back?”

“Who? You and Minjae?”

“Yeah. We’re all neighbors, after all. Sumin, Jinsik, and Hyunwoo also sit with us.”

“First of all, it’s too early in the morning to deal with all of Sumin’s screaming—”

Right on cue, Sumin laughed loudly, giving you a slight headache.

“That’s fair,” Junmin acknowledged while rubbing his ringing ear.

“And second of all, we’re not friends like that. I’ve never been friends with anyone in the group like that,” you explained.

“Is there a reason why?”

“…No. That’s just how our lives unfolded. None of us are too bothered by it.”

“Why don’t you try to be proper friends with us? It’ll be fun,” Junmin encouraged you.

“And talk about what? I don’t play basketball or watch the games, and we don’t even have classes together. There’s nothing to really talk about with all of you,” you sighed, wondering why Junmin was trying so hard to make all of you guys be friends.

“Okay, fine. But I’m sure you and I can find something to talk about.”

“Like what?”

“Um… What song were you listening to just now?”

You showed him the song, and he immediately gushed on and on about the artist. The two of you ended up discussing music the rest of the bus ride to school.

The two of you got off the bus and walked towards the building together, only to see Junmin get whisked away by the boys.

“Bye, Y/N! See you later!” he called while waving as his friends dragged him away.

You waved in response, an amused smile on your face.

Minjae, meanwhile, decided to grill Junmin as they entered the school through a different entrance.

“Why did you sit by Y/N today and not us?” he asked.

“I mean, we all live on the same block, so why not be friends?”

“You barely talk to Y/N at the block parties, what do you mean?” Sumin furrowed his eyebrows.

“I mean, like… Well… I think we—”

“Guys, get the hint. Junmin has a crush on Y/N,” Jinsik pointed out while rolling his eyes.

“Really? On Y/N?” Hyunwoo was shocked.

Junmin couldn’t even deny his feelings— his face was already bright red. He nodded, and the group immediately erupted into debates about you. Minjae, on the other hand, kept quiet. He was baffled. Why did Junmin have a crush on you, the weird kid who chased him around with a bug on a stick, the crazy kid who tried to fight him, the kid who barely talked to him? He just couldn’t imagine anyone having feelings for you of all people.

You didn’t realize that you, Junmin, and Minjae all had lunch at the same time until you bumped into Junmin— you were with your friends, and the bell rang so you were off to your next class.

“Sorry— Oh! Y/N! You have lunch this period, too?” Junmin was mildly surprised to see you.

“Yeah, you too?”

“Yep.”

“Hey, Y/N,” Minjae put his arm over Junmin’s shoulder, nearly knocking the boy down.

“Hi, Minjae…” you were confused— why was Minjae talking to you?

“Do you still wear that hat my mom gave you?”

You were seriously weirded out. Minjae never talked to you in school, and now he wanted to know about what clothes you wore? “Yeah, I wore it to school today.”

“I thought I saw you wearing it. My mom has another one she made for you. I’ll give it to you later.”

“Okay…? Uh… Bye, Minjae. Bye, Junmin.”

You waved and immediately started walking to class, your friends squealing beside you.

“What’s with you guys?” you asked.

“Junmin is totally into you,” one of your friends said.

“No, Minjae likes Y/N,” another friend stated.

“OMG, what if Y/N is trapped in a love triangle? This is so cute, I’m so jealous!” a third friend added their opinion.

“Stop. Minjae’s just my next door neighbor, and Junmin lives on my block. We’re just neighbors,” you shot down their delusional theories almost immediately.

“Well, if you had to choose between them—”

“No, neither. I’m good. Come on, we’re going to be late for class.”

The bus rides to and from school confused you. Not only was Junmin sitting by you, but Minjae was as well, which ultimately led to Sumin, Jinsik, and Hyunwoo to sit by you all. You barely talked while the rest of the boys screamed about something or the other, but you did feel a little closer to them. You didn’t know how you felt about that, but it wasn’t so bad being friendly with them.

 When February came around, your friends teased the shit out of you. They kept saying that Junmin or Minjae would bring you something for the most romantic day of the year, and that they both would compete to get you the better present. You kept telling them that no, that was not going to happen, but at lunch, Junmin approached your table.

“Y/N,” he said as he handed a tiny bag of chocolate truffles to you. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Th-thank you…” you mumbled while taking the present from him.

Just as quickly as he arrived, Junmin disappeared, leaving your friends to squeal. You tossed the chocolate into your backpack.

“Alright, ladies. If Minjae also gives Y/N chocolate, then I win the bet,” one of your friends said.

“Well I definitely lost… Can’t believe it… I thought Minjae would give Y/N chocolate first,” another friend said.

“See, I told you Junmin would give Y/N chocolate first, and I still think that Minjae isn’t interested,” the third friend said with a grin.

“Why are you betting on my life?” you asked with a sigh.

“We’re betting on your love life—”

“Nonexistent. I don’t have one, and I don’t want one, so stop it,” you said, hoping that you shut down their betting pool.

The bus ride home that day was quiet. Minjae and Junmin were at practice, and somehow, Sumin, Jinsik, and Hyunwoo all managed to get detention together. You treasured the quiet bus ride and had a peaceful time on your way home.

It was snowing when you got home. Snow in February was a little weird, but global warming messed with everything, so it didn’t surprise you anymore. You watched the snow flutter to the ground as you sat at your desk and finished your homework for the night before heading into your living room to sit and watch TV.

The doorbell from the backyard rang around seven in the evening. Mildly annoyed, you went to the backyard to see Minjae wearing his winter coat and scarf. Before you could even unlock the door, Minjae gestured for you to meet him by the sandbox in his backyard. You, completely annoyed by that point, grumbled to yourself as you wore a jacket and boots— it was still snowing outside, but you didn’t think you’d need a hat because you didn’t plan on being outside for more than two minutes.

“What is it?” you asked Minjae as you trudged through the snow.

“Here,” he held out a bag. “For you.”

“Uh, thanks?”

You took the bag from him and waved, assuming that you were good to leave, but Minjae grabbed your hand. He took the bag back and took out whatever was in it before placing it on your head.

“I told you my mom made you another hat. Try it on.”

He held the bag for you as you put the hat on properly. It fit nicely, and it was a rather cute hat.

“Tell your mom I say thanks, then,” you nodded, a small smile on your face as you appreciated the hat.

Minjae nodded. He handed the bag back to you and uttered a small “bye,” before shuffling back to his house. The bag seemed empty, so you wondered why on Earth he left you with the bag. You realized why he did when you got home— there was a tiny tootsie roll in the bag.

You sat in your room, the two chocolates in front of you. You stared at them in confusion. You were about to overthink the chocolates, but then your mother called you into the kitchen. You tossed them into a random drawer in your desk and made your way to the kitchen, completely forgetting about the chocolates.

The rest of the year was annoying, and as was the fall semester of your junior year. Minjae constantly greeted you in the halls whenever you saw him, but it was never in a, for lack of better terms, normal way. Sometimes, he’d make monkey noises and then say that he was doing his impression of you, or he would intentionally run his shoulder into yours, and sometimes he would slam your locker shut just as you opened it.

Junmin, on the other hand, didn’t get to see you as often. His classes were always on the opposite side of the school, and he didn’t even have lunch with you. Because of this development, all of your friends “flipped to Team Minjae”.

“Y/N, face it. Minjae is totally into you,” your friend said to you while walking through the halls, moments after Minjae rammed his shoulder against yours.

“No, he’s not. He used to do this to me all the time when we were kids. This is how he is,” you said while rubbing your shoulder— the impact hurt a little, not going to lie.

“These are things that boys do to their crushes, though. Maybe he liked you when you were kids.”

“Absolutely not. He always destroyed my sand castles and…” you couldn’t think of other things he did to you because you would hold a bug and chase him around before he could do anything to you— preventative measures. “Anyway, we’re childhood friends… No, not even friends. We’re neighbors. That’s all we’ll ever be.”

Junior year meant you could drive home, so you didn’t take the bus anymore. You didn’t see either Minjae or Junmin when you got home, which was always somewhat of a relief because you were tired of seeing Minjae at school. Junmin, on the other hand, wasn’t bad. Seeing him was never irritating.

You shook your head. Why were you thinking about those boys in the first place when they didn’t hold a special place in your heart? They weren’t worth the thought. You had other things to think about, like your grades; not boys, and definitely not the neighbor boys.

“Y/N!” Minjae called your name while you walked through the halls.

“God…” you muttered under your breath before turning to him and asking loudly, “What do you want, Minjae?”

“Come here,” he walked towards the stairwell.

Reluctantly, you did as he said and joined him in the stairwell. “Okay, what is it?”

He closed the door to the stairwell. You narrowed your eyes. What was he doing?

“I have something I want to tell you.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

Minjae took a step towards you, and you immediately took a step back. He was definitely acting weird. He kept walking towards you, and you kept walking backwards away from him, only for your back to hit the wall. Your eyes darted back and forth as he pinned you against the wall. His face was so close to yours that you felt like you could count each individual, surprisingly gorgeous, eyelash of his.

“I like you, Y/N. Go out with me,” he said quietly but not so quietly that you couldn’t hear him clearly.

“Minjae, stop messing around.”

You tried to push him away and leave, but he grabbed your arms and pinned them above your head to the wall. One hand holding your arms and his other hand pressing against the wall by your hip, Minjae said, “I’m serious, Y/N. I like you. I really fucking like you.”

Your eyes went wide— you’d never heard him say the f word before. Your heart raced as he leaned in, his lips nearly brushing past yours…

Then, your alarm went off. You sat up immediately, your forehead breaking into a cold sweat. What the fuck was that dream?!

You couldn’t face Minjae normally after that dream ever again. You did you best to avoid him at any given moment in the day to the point where you just carried all your textbooks with you so that you wouldn’t have to stop at your locker. Your friends didn’t realize that you were trying to avoid him, so they just assumed that Minjae lost interest. At least your love life was no longer a topic of discussion within your group.

You did a good job in avoiding him until the block party. You couldn’t believe that you had to face him during the party, and it made you nervous as hell. Your heart was already fluttering before you even saw the guy. How on Earth did one measly dream make you crush on a boy that was mean to you all through your childhood?

The party was at Junmin’s house that time. Your family was the first to arrive at the party, which thankfully meant that it was just you and Junmin.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you in a while,” Junmin greeted you with a smile.

He was sitting in the living room flipping through channels. You took a seat next to him. “I know, right? How’ve you been?”

“Busy. Practice got so much more intense now that we’re on varsity.”

“We?”

“Yeah, me and Minjae.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Even the mere mention of his name freaked you out. You hated that.

“How have the games been?” you asked, desperately trying to return your heart rate to normal.

“We’re doing well this season! You should really come for one of our games. We have a home game next week.”

“I don’t know… I’m not a huge basketball fan…”

“You won’t know if you don’t try. At least come for me? Please?”

Junmin stared at you with the most adorable puppy dog eyes, making your heart flutter. Unable to deal with his cute face, you nodded, his eyes immediately sparkling after.

“Promise?”

He held out his pinky.

“Promise.”

You locked your pinky with his.

Even when Minjae arrived at the party, you didn’t realize, nor were you bothered by it. It had just been so long since you had seen Junmin that the two of you talked the entire night. Minjae didn’t even approach the two of you because he had no idea what you both were talking about.

“They’re so cute together, aren’t they?” Minjae heard the aunties talking.

“They are! It would be so cute if they started dating.”

“Can I tell you ladies a secret?” Junmin’s mom approached the women. Minjae, still within earshot, heard Junmin’s mom say, “Junmin’s liked Y/N for a while. Hyunwoo’s mom told me.”

“Why Hyunwoo’s mom?”

“Because Hyunwoo can’t keep a secret.”

Minjae frowned. He had no idea that Junmin was still into you like that. With a shrug, he walked away from the gossiping aunties and hung out with the other boys, leaving you and Junmin to talk the rest of the night.

And lo and behold, the aunties spoke the ship into existence. After you promised Junmin that you’d go to the home game and followed through with your promise, Junmin was delighted. He asked you out that night after their school won— you both were walking back to your car, and he asked you when you got to your car. He was ecstatic when you said yes, but he didn’t kiss you. No, he hugged you, told you that he’d text you about taking you on a date, and left to get into his own car.

Your relationship with Junmin lasted the rest of your high school lives. You went to every single basketball game, you both took turns driving to and from school, and he even took you to prom. Your first kiss happened during your senior year homecoming, and, well, progressed to be more intimate as time went on.

Junmin made you completely forget about your brief crush on Minjae, so when you met them at the games, you talked to Minjae normally. Minjae, on the other hand, distanced himself, using the excuse that he hated romance as a reason to keep away (not that you cared about the justification).

When the three of you graduated, the aunties wanted the three of you to stand together and take a picture. You wrapped one arm around Junmin’s and leaned into him, Minjae standing awkwardly next to you.

“What are you doing? Come here,” you stretched your arm out for Minjae and linked arms with him.

Minjae ears went red, and his face turned a dusty shade of pink. Nonetheless, he kept his arm linked with yours, and the huge gap that was between the two of you disappeared. The pictures turned out great with all three of you standing near each other with wide smiles on your faces. The pictures were so good, in fact, that you didn’t even notice that in one of the pictures, Minjae was looking at you longingly despite the fact that he was standing right next to you.

After you graduated from college, you decided to go home for a couple of months. You were tired from studying and just wanted a little break before starting to work. Also, living rent free didn’t sound too bad, and you missed your mom’s cooking. So many reasons to go home.

Being home, though, you were worried about running into Junmin. The two of you broke up the first year of college because long distance wasn’t working out for the two of you. There weren’t any hard feelings, but Junmin did find a new significant other, so you didn’t want to interact because you were completely and utterly single.

Since you had nothing to study for and no work to do, you found yourself wondering what to do with yourself. So, one day, you laid down in the grass in your backyard and just stared at the sky. You thought about how simple life used to be and thought about what you did as kids to pass the time. Sure, there was the sandbox, which Minjae’s mom got rid of the second all the kids on the block went to college, and there was a park nearby, but that definitely wasn’t all of it. You were thinking about it so hard that you didn’t even realize someone had approached you, their head moving over you and blocking the view.

“Y/N?”

“Jesus!” you sat up immediately, nearly screaming. “Minjae! You scared the shit outta me!”

“Sorry,” Minjae apologized, although he didn’t sound sorry in the slightest. “Mind if I join you?”

You patted a spot of grass next to you, Minjae promptly sitting there. The two of you sat in complete and utter silence. The sound of the wind and the birds filled the silence, but for some reason, it just made you even more aware of the fact that you didn’t even know what to talk to Minjae about. So, you laid back down in the grass and stared at the sky. Minjae mirrored your actions.

“What are we looking at?” Minjae asked, being the first one to break the silence.

“Well, I was thinking more than looking…”

“Thinking about what?”

“About how we used to the pass time as kids. Like, other than the sand pit and the park, what else did we do?”

“You would steal my shoe and climb up a tree so that I couldn’t get it because you knew I was afraid of heights,” Minjae responded almost immediately.

“Oh, right,” you couldn’t help but laugh. “I did use to do that, didn’t I? Are you still afraid of heights?”

Minjae didn’t respond, making you laugh harder. You sat up and clutched your stomach as you laughed your ass off. Minjae sat up too, a small frown on his face.

“Come on, it’s not easy to get over a fear…” Minjae pouted.

“No, you’re right,” you agreed as you wiped tears from your eyes— you laughed so hard you started crying. “I’m sorry for laughing.”

“That’s okay.”

You stood up and held your hand out to help Minjae up. After dusting your pants off, the two of you walked to the neighborhood park. You sat on the benches near the basketball court and continued talking.

“Do you still play basketball?”

“Not competitively, but for fun, yeah.”

The two of you talked about very surface level things, but your conversation stretched out and kept going and going. You never realized you could talk to Minjae for so long, but the two of you weren’t children anymore. You grew up, and with growing up comes different conversations.

Both of your families ended up having dinner together, his parents grilling you about job prospects and your parents with him. By the end of the exhausting interrogative dinner, you and Minjae stood outside on the deck. It was pretty dark outside, and the only thing to illuminate the area were the porch lights of all the houses.

“Did you hear about Junmin?” Minjae asked tentatively.

“Yeah… I mean, good for him. He’s a nice guy,” you said with a sigh.

“What about you?”

“What about me what?”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

You burst out laughing. Hearing those words from Minjae’s mouth was so foreign, and you never ever thought he would say that phrase to you.

“What’s so funny?” Minjae looked at you with concern.

“No, it’s just— You sounded almost like an ex-boyfriend,” you explained after calming down. “But, no. I’m not. Are you?”

“I mean, I am an ex-friend that is a boy,” Minjae mumbled, but you didn’t hear him. Louder, he answered your question, “No, I’m not either.”

“Why not?” the words flew out of your mouth.

“What do you mean why not?” Minjae asked with a laugh. “I just never found someone that I really liked.”

You nodded— it was the same for you after you broke up with Junmin.

The two of you went silent. The only thing you could hear were the buzzes of grasshoppers and cicadas. From inside the house, your mothers were looking at your backs.

“Remember when we used to say that these two would get together?” your mom whispered to Minjae’s mom.

“Yes, I do… Do you think they will?”

“Maybe… Should we keep watching?”

“I don’t see why not.”

The two of you were unaware that your mothers were watching you— your backs were still facing them as Minjae spoke softly.

“I have something to tell you.”

Your mind immediately flashed back to the dream you had about him, and memories of crushing on Minjae flooded your brain. You felt your face heat up as Minjae turned his entire body to face you. He didn’t take a step towards you like he did in the dream, but he did scoot the tiniest bit closer to you.

“Remember when you and Junmin started dating?”

You were not expecting him to say that. Your heart calmed down slightly, and you nodded in response.

“Well, back then, right before you two started dating, you came to watch our game for the first time. My heart skipped a beat because I thought that you came to see me even though I knew you were there because he asked you to come… And I kept thinking about how nice it would have been if you were there for me and not him…”

Your jaw dropped. Was Minjae… Confessing?

“I don’t even know when I caught feelings for you, Y/N… All I know is that whenever Junmin talked about you, I’d get annoyed, so I’d annoy you. I liked when you gave me your attention, and when you started avoiding me—”

“You knew I was avoiding you?” you interrupted.

“Of course I did. You’re not as subtle as you think. I don’t know why you were, but I decided to lay off because I thought you were upset with me. I didn’t want to upset you…”

Empty noises left your body. You didn’t even know how to respond to that revelation with anything other than the truth.

“Seeing you with Junmin was hard… I kept wishing I was him…”

“Minjae…”

“Tell me something, Y/N. Did you hate me back then?”

You had to tell him the truth. “No...” you bit your lower lip and looked down. “I avoided you because… I had a crush on you… And we grew up together so I thought it was weird and that I shouldn’t have been looking at you like that…”

“So you didn’t avoid me because you hated me?”

“I hated you when we were kids, but I never avoided you when we were kids.”

Minjae bit back a slight laugh. He smiled with relief, and your heart raced. He had the same face he did when you were younger, but he looked so much more attractive now, like he grew into his features. You felt your heartbeat louder when Minjae leaned into you.

“Y/N, I have something I want to tell you.”

God, your dream was happening. Your high school dream was coming to life.

“Yeah? What is it?”

“I like you.”

He reached out and cupped your cheek, your face instantly heating up.

“Can I take you on a date sometime, some place?”

This was so much nicer than your high school dream, to say the least.

“I would like that.”

“And… Would it be okay if I kissed you right now?”

“I would really like that…”

Minjae couldn’t help but smile. You felt his hand snake around your waist and pull you even closer to him. Your hands rested on his shoulders as he brought your face towards his, his lips brushing against yours.

This time, you didn’t wake up— you were awake, and this very real Minjae was actually kissing you. The first kiss was soft, but the second was passionate, desperate. His hold on you got tighter, and he kissed you as if he was trying to make up for lost time. Butterflies filled your stomach. When his lips trapped your lower lip and sucked lightly, you felt the world spinning. He leaned into you and kissed you harder, both of his arms around your waist. Your hold on his shoulders was weakening— the more he kissed you, the more your mind went blank.

Yet, when he released your lips and moved back, you leaned towards him wanting more. You moved your hands so that they held onto his neck and pulled him towards you again. His lips were addicting, and you wanted more of him. But, he kept making little comments in between the kisses.

“I like you, Y/N.” Kiss. “I seriously like you.” Kiss. “I like you so much.”

He tried to kiss you again but you covered his lips with your hand and said, “Shut up. Do you have a problem with kissing without talking or something?”

“No, monkey.”

“Monkey?!” you slapped his shoulder. “If I’m a monkey, then you’re still a mop-head.”

“I’ll be your mop-head,” Minjae rubbed his nose against yours lightly. “And you’re my monkey.”

“Don’t make me put you in a headlock.”

“Kinky.”

“Minjae!” you gasped, your face immediately heating up.

“I’m kidding! Just kidding,” Minjae laughed at your red face and hugged you.

You hugged him back and sunk into his warmth and familiar, natural scent. And when he leaned back to look at your face, you kissed him quickly, smiles blossoming on your face, then his.

You both finally turned towards the house to head back inside, only to see your moms and dads watching the whole scene unfold with popcorn in their hands. The two of you immediately separated, the two of you now completely embarrassed.

“See, we told you that you’d end up together!” Minjae’s mom said with a laugh.

[mastersoftheair]

So just to clear the air (and I guess my massive confusion) Harry never slept with Sandra, correct? I gotta say I need to read his memoir at this point as he is so intriguing to me, as well as masters of the air book, but like you said it’s a “blink and miss it” thing. I didn’t interpret it as anything more than having a few friendly conversations. It was more about emotional infidelity to me than physical, but given the circumstances and that exact heartbreaking point in time for Harry I can’t find it in me to blame either of them.

for me, ig i'm coming at my position from a place of bias. i'd read crosby's "a wing and a prayer" sometime in either 2021 or 2022 (those years blend together tbh), so i've had a lot of time to think about those 2 and their relationship and i lean towards "yeah, it likely happened" (this is a long response btw bc i'm quoting from the memoir):

crosby introduces his new friend, alexandra "landra" wingate (aka sandra westgate), in the chapter "learning about americans from the british" (this chapter was basically what we see in episode 6). moving on from this tho–

in the chapter "with landra in london", he expands on their growing relationship and the reader learns more about landra (she is genuinely Such an interesting person, and probably a spy). crosby writes about her with such admiration, regularly bringing up how smart she is. also, she's a captain!

this chapter's pretty important in how i formed my opinion on the matter. i understand the argument that the closeness of their relationship was intentionally left vague, but this chapter reads in a way that makes it feel Heavily implied despite not saying a lot (especially alongside crosby's emphasis on his wife jean being "four thousand miles away", as well as his own loneliness and despair wrt to all the missing and dead). there are some standout lines here:

-"I had Jean at home and Landra in England." (not a red flag, but it's a flag) -"I started seeing Landra every time I could." (cool) -"All I knew was that [Landra] was making my life much more endurable." (also cool) -"I did not tell Jean about Landra." (the last sentence of the chapter. it gave me pause and almost instantly reshaped the way i viewed that whole chapter)

the next chapter, "r&r with jean", crosby recalls how much the war took a toll on both him and his relationships. for a time, jean wrote more letters to croby than the other way around ("I began to skip writing to her."). i assume crosby must've been radiating Exceptionally negative energy bc he gets told this: "Croz, we can't stand to have you around. We want you back, but we want you to go home for a while." (i found the phrasing here really funny tbh. your vibes Suck! just Get Out of here!!)

so, crosby contemplates seeing jean again, wondering how both of them may have changed. he also brings up landra, for Some Reason: "What would I think of her? Protected in the States as she was, how would she compare to Landra? Now that I had grown so much, had such experiences, how would Jean and I fit together?"

the rest of the chapter Is about meeting and catching up with jean, however, and you can tell that he loves her a Ton. it's very sweetly written (he also basically ends the chapter saying "btw, we conceived our first child ;) ")

the final chapter about landra is "london junket" which begins with "When I returned from the United States and my idyll with Jean, I knew I had to do something about Landra." i think that sentence alone is pretty damning. if landra was just a friend, why would you be anxious about calling a friendship off? is it a guilt thing?

the context here is that crosby feels Far less lonely and depressed. he's met up with jean, life in london is finally "a delight". i found that important bc it gives me the impression that crosby desperately wanted companionship (possibly of two kinds), and he found that in landra– a friend and a maybe a [REDACTED]. now that he's having a great time with his friends in the 100th And he's met up with his wife, that itch's been scratched (that's just my opinion tho). bc of that, he decides to say goodbye to landra. they have this exchange:

"When a month passed after you were to return, and you did not phone me," she said, "I suspected that it was over. You found things good with Jean?" I told her about R&R in the U.S. I told her more about Jean. I told her about Stephen Patrick, Jeffrey Allen, or Evalyn. "When I realized you were gone," she said, "I no longer said no to a nice American at my office. I have been with him several times. I like him." (interesting) "I’m glad." (also interesting) "He is not married, He is not so dashing as you, but we have good times together." Me "dashing"? That was not my self-image. So much for Landra."

all put together (and with over 2 years to think about it), i Really kinda saw That Scene coming. but, like i said, i had that bias. and since i'd had a good amount of time to think about them, i came out the other end still excited to see them on screen. i found (and still find) landra a fascinating woman who must've had an exciting life (crosby's okay too ig lol). i also see them as a couple of imperfect, even selfish, 20somethings (speaking as an imperfect and selfish 20something). not to be corny, but "it takes 2 to tango". landra is Very intelligent, and crosby recounts how that aspect of hers left him in awe. she'd've 100% known the guy was married. and if signs point to her having had sex with the man, then she either made peace with it or simply didn't care (a lot of women are like that). plus, they're real people and real people contain multitudes idk. maybe some wife somewhere across the atlantic is hard to care about if you've never met her and never will. maybe it's hard to consider your wife's feelings in the midst of your own misery. a female character doesn't have to be wholesome and pure to be considered well-written. that certainly doesn't apply to most male characters. like you said, no one is perfect!

maybe, crosby left it vague out of respect to his wife. maybe it's vague bc nothing happened anyway (funny way to write it tho). maybe the wingate family wanted to avoid association with MotA bc it Literally didn't happen. or maybe they know it happened, but want to keep her name clean out of respect (who wants one brief relationship that happened 80 yrs ago to define you/your loved one decades later? that's 100% understandable). whichever the case, even crosby's kids are in a 50/50 split. i still lean towards "it happened", but it doesn't make me dislike either of them. they're flawed and i can respect that more than the show portraying either as picture perfect.

NONE of this is to say that i'm cool with cheating (or giving a "world war cheating pass", so to speak). while i find it realistic, it still wouldn't have been fair to jean, whether she knew about it or not (being a woman in the 1940s wasn't easy by any stretch). this Also isn't to dismiss anyone else's opinion on the matter, bc cheating on your partner is still a shitty thing to do. this whole spiel of mine is bc i like to share my opinions and i'm allergic to being concise. i write like i talk and on all levels except physical, anon, i'm giving you a long-winded rant over coffee and croissants lol

thanks for the ask!

[fallingdownhell]

i love your writing so much i can't resist from requesting -

im an AS student and man these exams are not easy I've been pulling all nighters and its obviously effecting on me a lot and i don't have a thoma in my life T^T

can i request thoma x reader (modern AU) where she is pulling all nighters, skipping meals, etc while thoma is away on a buisness trip or something (with the Kamisato siblings) and when he gets back to home he sees her almost passed out with a fever and he takes care of her and helps her get back on her feet again ^^

feel free to ignore this <3

have a nice day/night and take care :D

Thanks, I'm glad to hear that<3

Ugh yeah, studying and exams are hard, but please do take care of yourself! That's still the most important thing to do.

But honestly, you're so right. Everyone should have a Thoma in their life. So, allow me to prepare something. Hope that it helps to relax you a bit as well<3

Pairing: Thoma x reader

Content: gender neutral reader; Modern AU; burnout; stress; exams suck; comfort; being taken care of when sick

Word count: 1,8k words

Enjoy the ride!

Studying was hard.

In fact, it was one of the worst things on this planet to ever exist. Why do people have to go through this for multiple years in their life?

It was already hard enough to stay focused and not get distracted by literally anything else. Even the most minute thing could normally easily steal your attention away.

Yet right now, you had to endure. A hard week was coming your way, two very important exams were approaching, with a third one being scheduled the week after.

You have been studying non stop for a few days now, but somehow, nothing seemed to stay in your head, every word you read seemed to be thrown out your head again at the next second.

So, instead of taking a break and just giving yourself even a few minutes of rest, you just studied even harder. Days became longer and longer and before you knew it, you were studying well into the night, but you couldn't help it.

Those exams were very important, it could possibly ruin your entire future if you were to fail even one of them. At least, that's what you're telling yourself.

To your (mis)fortune - however you wanna look at it now - your boyfriend Thoma, who usually would be pestering you by now to finally take a break, wasn't around for a few weeks, since he went on a trip with a few of his friends.

At first, he wanted to bail out of it, so he could stay with you and support you through these tough weeks. But you insisted that he went on the trip, said it would be good for him to get out and spend some quality time with his friends.

In the end, he reluctantly agreed to it, but he still made sure to text you every day, reminding you to take care of yourself and to not overwork yourself.

Each time you got a text like that from him, you felt guilt well up inside you, from how you so easily ignored his worries about you and your health. Yet, every time again, you pushed those feelings down again, telling you that you had no time for them right now.

...

You were currently deep into yet another study session again, your head already pounding from the constant stress and influx of information, when your phone gave off a text notification next to you.

The screen lit up once you looked at it, showing you a new message from Thoma and also told you that it was already almost midnight again.

'You still up?', was the message displayed on your screen. You hesitated on wether or not you should respond to him, knowing that he would most likely scold you for staying up so late again. But in the end, you decided on just answering him.

'Yeah, I am. What's up?', you replied back to him.

You waited a few seconds for his answer, but instead of a new message came the notification of an incoming video call. Confused but also pleasantly surprised, you accepted the call and were soon greeted with the handsome face of your boyfriend Thoma, which you haven't seen in quite some time. God, how did you only now realise how much you missed him?

"Hey", he said, his voice sounding a bit off thanks to the quality of the phone, but that's okay. At least you got to hear his voice again.

"Hey", you answered back with a soft smile, taking in his surroundings. He was laying on his stomach, holding his phone in front of him with one hand, while the other rested under his chin on a pillow. In the background, you could hear soft snoring.

"Is that Ayato snoring in the background?", you laughed, but Thoma seemed to be used to it at this point.

"Yeah. I'm actually not surprised you hear that, but trust me, it's so much louder when your in the same room as him. He sleeps like a stone and his snoring has kept me up so many times. Like today."

You nodded in understanding. While Thoma may not snore, your previous partner sure did, and it robbed you of your sleep more times than you could count.

"How are you, (name)? Taking enough breaks?", he asked, even managing to give you a pointed look through the camera of the phone. You briefly debated on just telling him yes so he would feel better, but you couldn't bring yourself to lie to Thoma. Not when he was so earnestly concerned about you.

"More or less..", you opted to respond, thinking it would not sound too bad. Yet, knowing you for this long, Thoma knew exactly what that meant.

"(Name)...", he sighed, pinching his nose with his free hands. But before he could go on a full blown rant, you tried changing the subject.

"Let's not talk about that, okay. I'll manage and I don't want to ruin the good mood of your trip. I hope you're having fun by the way."

Thoma looked at you for a few seconds, deciding on wether or not to just go with it. "I know what you're trying to do here. Just... promise me you won't take it too far, okay. Don't neglect yourself, take breaks and remember to eat something."

"Thoma.. I can't really promise you, but I'll try, okay?"

He sighed again, but agreed to that with a reluctant "Alright.", since he knew that this would probably be the best he would get out of you. He really hated how you had this habit to just not take care of yourself when you were stressed, which is why he didn't want to go on this trip in the first place.

But, you were right after all. He really needed this trip to get out for a bit and breath some fresh air, and he had a lot of fun with both Ayato and Ayaka. You were initially invited to join them as well, but sadly had to decline because it would overlap with your exams.

The two of you talked for quite a bit about all kinds of things. The stuff the three of them had been up to during their trip, where they went to (since it was a road trip) and stuff like that. Hearing about it, you were really sad you couldn't join them, but that's just how things are now.

Before ending the call, Thoma informed you that they probably would be back by the end of next week, which was also when you would finally be done with all your exams. Then, you could finally rest again and enjoy some much needed quality time with your boyfriend again.

"Good night, (name). I love you."

"I love you too, Thoma. Good night."

And after that, your screen went black again, and you were suddenly all alone again in your quiet room, with nothing to occupy your mind but the constant need to study and get better.

So, with a deep sigh, you got back to work.

...

It was finally done. The last test has been dealt with, it was over.

You arrived at your apartment, utterly exhausted. You had been ignoring the warning signs of your body for far too long, and yet you still insisted of pushing your own limits.

You started to develop a constant headache a few days ago, with the fever joining in two days ago. Yet you still pushed through, telling yourself that you were fine, that you were able to do this.

And you did do it, but now that you were falling onto your couch, finally able to relax for the first time in two weeks, you realized what you had done to yourself.

You had no strength left in you, no will to do anything at all. You were utterly exhausted and done, not being able to do anything but welcome the darkness that overcame you as you simply passed out on the spot.

...

"(Name)? I'm home!", Thoma yelled as he entered your apartment, using the spare key that you gave him. When no reply came back to him, worry began to rise even more. He had been texting you for the last three hours, telling you that he got back safely. But when you still didn't reply, his concern got the best of him, and he made his way over to your apartment.

"(Name)?", he tried again, while moving through the living space. Once he passed the living room, he saw you, laying on the couch, passed out. At first, thinking nothing of it, he smiled a little and made his way over to your side, crouching down next to you.

But when he saw the pained expression on your face and how sweaty you were, he instantly knew something was up. Without thinking, he gently picked you up into his arms to carry you to your bedroom, before he went to check on your temperature.

As he suspected, you had a fever.

"Damn it, (name).", he sighed. Seemed like he had to take care of you until you wake up again.

...

When you woke up again, you had no idea what time it was, but judging by the the lack of bright light coming form outside, it had to be either evening or night already.

Your head was still spinning a bit and when you went to touch your forehead, you noticed something cold and wet.

That's also when you realized that you weren't in the living room anymore, but actually your bedroom.

Still confused and trying to piece the missing information together, the door to your room swung open, revealing the form of your boyfriend Thoma to you.

"Thoma! You're back!", you exclaimed, trying to get out of the bed, but were quickly pushed back down again.

"Don't even think about getting up. Your fever is still way too high for you to be jumping around like that.", he scolded, which caused you to follow his instruction. Only now did you also notice that you were wearing your pyjama and not the things you collapsed in on the couch. He really took care of everything for you...

"I'm sorry..", you quietly mumbled, and you meant it. You felt bad and guilty for causing him to worry so much about you. Even worse that he had every right to do so, since you did work yourself sick.

Thoma sighed, sitting down on the bed, slowly extending a hand to stroke your hair a bit.

"Don't scare me like that again. You were passed out for hours. All I want is for you to be okay. I can only achieve that if you also start taking care of yourself."

"Okay.. I promise I'll take better care."

And he believed you. It was the only thing he could do, besides nursing you back to health right now. And you appreciated and loved him even more for putting up with you and still caring for you, despite all.

[nattspencer]

Impossible Ending - Part 2

Lady Lesso X Reader

Part 1 / Part 2 (you’re here)

Summary: The Reader has known Lesso since their childhood, however, she knew it was impossible for them to be together, until the Storian assigned the Reader to help the deans to reformulate the now school for good and evil.

A/N: English is not my first language, I’m really sorry for any mistakes. If you have any ideas for stories with Lady Lesso and for some reason whats me to write it, it would be my pleasure, just send me a request. I’m beyond the moon with the love this work has received, really, I just need to thank you guys for all the support, thank you so much! You guys made me feel so special you guys don’t have no idea!

Warnings: bad language, mentions of injury, angst, a bit fluffy and mentions of smut, however, no smuts planned to this work.

Word count: 2.8k

The GIF is not mine.

          As soon as Lesso’s lips touched yours, a streak of energy flowed through your bodies as you could feel her flinch as well, smoothing her vice grip on you to something almost joyable. All thoughts disappeared from your mind as you were flooded by her, every single feeling and memory you learnt to suppress all these years, unlocked and shattered in your face. As much your mind wanted to resist, your soul couldn’t do it anymore. 

          All the rush and urgency has also seemed to have faded on her, as the kiss started slowly, bursted with long buried feelings. Lesso’s hands calmly involved your waist, and her body wasn’t pressed on yours anymore, just pleasingly touching each other. You placed a gentle hand on her scruff and combed her soft red hair while you felt how it was to be on the surface of the moon, she was and always will be your only true love. 

           Annoyingly, your lungs started to crave for air, and with a last peck your lips left hers, as her forehead rested on yours. No words were said, no muscle moved, you were just in her arms and she was just in yours, as you tried to fill your hurting lungs with air, in a vain attempt to calm down your raced heart. Few seconds passed when she finally seemed to remember why she kissed you in the first place, once she smashed her lips in yours with a bruising kiss.  

          This time there was no place for tenderness or slowness, urgency and heat building up in each beat of your rapid heart. Her hands were meticulously squeezing your hips and thighs in the most delightful way, almost making you moan through the kiss. Her nails carving on your back and her mouth exploring yours as much as she could. Your tongs fought for dominance before her teeths nipped hard your lower lip, causing a low moan to rip through your throat.

          “That’s more what I like to hear, pet” She whispered with her lips brushing yours, as she crashed again into the kiss.

          When air was needed again, her mouth trailed to the crook of your neck, marking you in deep bruises as much as she could, taking moans from you in the way. Your hands were fisting her scalp painfully, pulling her red curls and pushing her head even more into you as if it was possible. She was driving you positively crazy, as she knew exactly where to touch, where to bite, where to suck to send an embarrassing amount of arousal down your legs. Of course, two can play this game, as you grabbed her neck and spun her body, crashing it just where you were standing.

          “My turn” You whispered in her left ear, squeezing her throat roughly as you crashed another bruising kiss on her already swallowed lips, making her body surrender under you. 

          It didn’t take long before your hand relaxed above her feverish skin and started to work on her tie and the very first buttons of her white blouse, exposing her neck to you mark it as yours. As soon as the kiss ended you worked upon her derm doing you absolute worse, hands all over her body and your knee buried between her legs. 

          The very first low aroused moan to fall from her throat almost made you pass out, never in your life you thought you would love so much a noise as you do now. Her hips rocking sinfully against your thigh, her voice muttering the filthiest sounds that you could never dream of. You were completely drenched, mad. She was a drug, and you are an addicted consumer. 

          “Fuck” Escaped through her hoarse throat as she gulped a deep breath.

          In a sudden move she flipped you two to your original position, she on top of you, now putting her own knee between your thighs and pressing her body extremely hard against yours, making your already sore wounds complain.

          “How bratty, you definitely know some bad manners. Impressive, pet” She whispers as her hands proceed to squeeze you even harder.

          Destiny definitely didn’t were very fond of you, as if it was like it was purposely trying to play a trick on you, her thumb sank deep into one of your nasty stitched and inflamed cuts, a little gifts from last mission, busting this one painfully open, ripping your unhealed and neglected skin in the process. You had no choice but to jolt, groaning in agony, as the air left your lungs progressively getting hard to breathe, once the injury was quite near to your ribs and it was also the main memory from that job.

          Lesso’s lips immediately withdrew from your throat when she heard your complaint, her eyes full of concern while she scanned your scrunched face. Soon, her gaze went down your body, finding a scarlet spot on your shirt, beneath her now moist hand.

          “Shit, you’re bleeding” 

          “Figured as much, Sherlock” You joked, receiving a deadly look in response “Being me and doing my job isn’t exactly a piece of cake, you know? But you don’t have to worry, I’ve had worse” And as Murphy was mocking at you, your vision started to blur. 

          “You need to go to the infirmary, immediately” Her voice was serious, and her hands moved to rip the buttons of your shirt, trying to get something to help her stop the scarlet liquid from getting out of your body.

          For a moment, you could see her eyes stare at your frame, astonished. It definitely wasn’t what she expected from a “princess”. Your torso was covered in scars, some of them from swords, some of them from monsters, some of them from exposed fractures, some of them you didn’t even remember, but more than anything, your last assignment wasn’t anywhere near easy to your skin.

          Deep bruises covered your figure, black, purple and red coloring your derma, unhealed stitched cuts laid roughly in your skin, freshly bandaged from last trip to the blue forest. Faltering, her free hand gently traveled through your injuries, hidden in her eyes, you could see sorrowness. 

          “This wasn’t exactly how I imagined you ripping my blous-'' Leonora silenced your words by pressing firmly the fabric on her hands into your bleeding wound, making you whimp in discomfort.

          “Shut up” She uttered seriously.

          “Why do you even care?” The words falling from your lips before you could stop them, covered in sincerity.

          “I don’t. Still, you are the headmaster of this school. I can’t just let you bleed to death” Lesso responded coldly.

          “Even if the headmaster is your nemesis? Let me die and evil wins” You pondered.

          “You want me to let you die?” She didn’t answer your question as her icy eyes locked on yours.

          “I already died decades ago, Nora” A familiar sad smile painted your lips, it was true “I don’t care about what happens to me, I’m doing an extra shift anyways, but I know you, and you care. Why? You’ve got what you wanted, the power, the respect, why do you still care about… me?” How could she? You were nothing! Your mind couldn’t comprehend the mysteries behind her green eyes.

          “Because it’s you for fuck sake!” She said, raising her voice, as if it was the most obvious thing on the whole planet “You’re the closest thing to love I’ve ever felt, the closest thing to home, and I know. I know I don’t deserve you, villains are never loved, we’re incapable to love, besides, evil never ever gets happy endings anyways and after all I’ve done to you, I deserve you even less. But please, don’t ask me to let you die, because I can’t bear that” 

          “What about Rafal, you-” Your brain was still trying to process her words, did she… loved you?

          “Can’t you see? I never loved him. I loved his power, and what he could make me be. Yes, I thought I was in love at first, but really I was just in pain, all the time, because in the process of gaining power I lost and hurt the only person that truly understood me, that cared for me. You”

          “I’ve never stopped caring for you-” Lesso cuts you in the middle of your sentence, again.           “And that’s the problem! You need to stop caring!” Her deep green eyes were pleading almost glistening as her hands were doing pressure on your still bleeding ripped cut “I hurt you beyond repair and still you take care of me, you carry me to bed when I’m tired, you make sure I’m comfortable, you caress me so I get good dreams, you do my work to make sure I can rest and eat, and most of all, you stop taking care of yourself to take care of me!” Her last words leaving her throat as a scream “Or do you think I haven't noticed your skin hotter than usual these past few days? You’re constantly with a fever, and will not rest for the sake of it!”

          “Nora, I-” You finally let yourself call her the way you used to, before all this insanity came into place.

          “Please, don’t let me destroy what’s left of you, you’re far too important” A single tear strayed her face, as sincerity and fear flooded her beautiful voice. You’ve never seen her so vulnerable, so broken, and it made your heart sink painfully, more than any injury could ever be able to inflict.

          “You didn’t des-” She still didn’t allow you to talk, so deep down drowned into her long buried emotions.

          “Yes I fucking did! I remember your eyes that day, how broken you were. I always break the things I love, I broke my mother and now I broke you too. I thought if you get away from me it would be for the best, you wouldn’t have a miserable life, but look at you! All these scars, these bruises, this is my fault, if I hadn’t met you and if I didn’t get you dragged into this madness you would still be safe and sound with your family. I took you away from them, hurt you, and left you alone” Tears streamed down her face at this point as a poring rain “I should feel good about it, about all the evil things I’ve done, but I fucking don’t. Because it’s you!”

          “Can you please let me finish a fucking sentence?” You said as gently as possible, the sad smile never leaving your lips, as it was your long known friend.

          “Sorry” Her voice never sounded so small, and you hated yourself for making her feel this way. But you knew it was for the best.

          “What happened with your mother isn’t your fault, she got sick because people get sick, that’s it, don’t you ever think it was because of you, you were a kid, and you did everything you could. You found us! You searched for my family’s help, and I’m sure as hell they got her back on her feet” Your eyes never left hers, as you muttered these words with all your heart “I love you, Nora. I loved who you were back then and I certainly love you now. I love who you became. God look at you, you’re stunning, deliciously evil, have a great sense of humor and for God sake when I thought you couldn’t be more attractive you appear in a suit with a walking stick.” A light chuckle left your lips “You are everything to me and more Nora. Always was and always will be”

          “Wait, you… loved loved me?” Shock danced behind her flooded eyes.

          “Yeah. You ARE my impossible ending, Nora. I thought choosing to leave would make at least one of us happy but I see now I was wrong” Your hands cupped her soft cheeks carefully, smoothly brushing her tears as they continued to fall.

          “You choose to?” She asked confusedly.

          “Yeah, though that without me you would finally be happy, with the things you desired, and more than that, you would never have known how I feel. So if you ever felt the same, you wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences. I didn’t wanted you bullied or expelled”

          “You willingly gave up your own happy ending because of… me?” Her eyebrows furrow even further.

          “Yeah… School for good after all huh? Predictable and slobbery” Your long forgotten truthful laugh escapes from your throat. 

          “Shut up” She says unpretentiously, as lovely giggles erupted from her voice “I didn’t exactly hatted your slobbery anyways” 

          “Tch tch tch” You mockingly shushed her “Don’t talk any louder, dear, people might think that the mighty Lady Lesso has gone soft after all” You joke.

          “I always got a soft spot for a dear ever, babe, but still, I’m not less evil because of that” An unholy smile emerging from her lips.

          “Good, because I love you just in the wicked way you are” You say genuinely as you move one of your hands to stroke her hair.

          “Even if evil can’t be loved? Even if I don’t deserve you” A hint of fear glimpsed in her eyes.

          “We should both agree that by now we are some twisted thing in between good and evil, right?” You smiled, suddenly feeling the weight of overwork finally charging its price. You took a deep breath to continue “Make up to me then, every day, make up to me by loving yourself the same way I love you and even more. You deserve love, Nora” 

          “You’re unbelievable you know that? So corny, poppet!” All you remembered was to smile widely before your conscience left your body.

          Certainly some time has passed, as you are in a different environment now. The dim candle lights made the silhouettes of what you thought was the school’s infirmary, as the litters aligned in bays and a long balcony could be seen. Your systems were slowly waking up, as a burning pain raised from where you knew it was your previously violated cut. Looking down at your body you could notice freshly made bandages, and in the table near you, a lot of medical supplies. 

          For how long you had been out? That was the question hammering in your head. You must have given Leonora a hell of a scare. You didn’t mean to do it, of course, but you knew hospitals and infermaries made her really nervous, as she remembered her ill mother. Tilting your head to the side now, you could see her beautiful red hair lying beside your body. 

          Her hands were intertwined on yours and her breath was steady. Still, you couldn’t not notice the dark circles beneath her eyes, she might have been covering your part of the work, just like you had done for her all those nights before. Carefully moving your right hand as you left hers, you started to gently comb her hair, trying to wake her up smoothly.

          “Hey you” Your hoarse voice said fondly when she lazily raised her head to look at you.

          “Hey, corny head” She greeted softly “How're you feeling?” She asked calmly, grabbing your hand from her scalp and gently rubbing her thumb over your soft skin.

          “Rested. Was it that bad? For how long was I out?”

          “You’re lucky your mom’s recipe was powerful” Reprehanse in her voice “It was just for one day”

          “I’m sorry I scared you” You said sincerely.

          “It’s okay” One of her hands traveled to your own scalp now. God you missed that.

          “It’s not” You would never mean to harm her.

          “I had some time to think you know” Leonora said after some moments of silence, just you staring at each other's eyes, screaming through the gaze all the unspoken feelings you had to each other, but didn’t dare to say it out loud.

          “Yeah? What did you think?” A hint of fear lashing through your body.

          “True love it’s not getting madly in love with someone. It’s choosing someone over and over again despite their flaws and mistakes because the world doesn’t feel right without sharing it with them” Her other hand encapsulate your left cheek, carefully caressing it “You choose me, even when you were not by my side, so I decided to choose you, whatever this corny bullshit it means” You felt an explosion of feeling though your heart, most of them good, but there was still one thing nagging at you.

          “It’s going to be a big mess, you know that right?” 

          “Oh yeah, it will. But what made you think I didn’t like some mess?” A wicked smile appeared on her lips and my God it made her look even better with it.

          “Guess we are going to punish whoever stands in our way then, seems like a good plan” You said in a determined voice.

          “For an ever, you’re wicked as hell, baby girl” Her grin grew wider and for sure, this woman will be the death of you, anytime.

          “I’m also a never, honey. Don’t try me” A vicious expression growing on your own face.

          “Oh you know I would love to” 

[jeding-png]

Spoilers from the short story, spoilers of the manhwa, spoilers of EVERYTHING! Unless you like spoilers, or are not afraid of them, or can distinguish between AU and real spoilers, lol.

Leila's kingdom.

What about the rest of the clan?

A coloring page from Restarting the Game about the meeting between Leila and her brother.

You don't have to read the description, it's long. The following is an explanation of the AU and a discussion >>>

♤Part of a story from a novel♤

History of the Leila Clan.

During the reign of the Golden Dragon, darkness was forced to hide underground, covered by golden wings. When the mighty ruler ended his life and left his fangs as a legacy, the darkness came to the surface. They called themselves gods, founded the country of Balta, and began to kill in the most brutal ways. They were stopped by the ancient Wizards, who trapped them in the Mirror of Truth.

For starters, what's the difference between wizards and the Leila clan?

The main difference between wizards and members of the Leila clan was the very nature of their magical abilities. That is, the wizards had magic as a middle ground between "mana" and "nature," they used magic without worrying about their own health. Whereas Leila's people tried to create something similar to that magic, but at the expense of life force (i.e., sucking mana from other creatures so as not to waste their own strength). However, the people of the Empire do not see the difference between them, because of the curse imposed by the representatives of the Leila clan on the wizards who risked their lives to imprison them. This is one of the reasons why I understand the reason for Winter's caution.

About Leila from the novel.

Little Leila, who managed to avoid falling into the ominous expanse of the Mirror of Truth, stood over the remains of her brothers for a long time and cried bloody tears. As the years passed, she stole life force and lost her original nature until she took over Yvonne's body. Thanks to brainwashing by the clan's artifact, Leila finds herself in the ducal Eckart family and meets Penelope, a descendant of ancient magicians. Penelope was instinctively wary of Yvonne and tried to harm her in every way possible, but because of her own stupidity, she died every time (she was killed by the main male characters). When Yvonne became engaged to Callisto, she received the fangs of the Golden Dragon and became immortal, destroying the world. However, Winter (who decided to cosplay as his grandfather and grew a beard; I shouldn't joke about it) was able to get rid of Leila's spell, wandering for a long time in the desert, looking for Leila's temple. He shed tears of regret for his own indiscretion and sacrificed his soul in a ritual, turning back time. Leila remembered all the regressions, and later abandoned the idea of saving her brothers because she wanted to rule the destroyed world herself.

◇Part of the story from my AU◇

Leila's brothers. What happened to them?

"As the mirror broke, the souls of Leila who were in the dragon were also destroyed. Finally, peace had arrived in the world." That part of the novel seemed to me to be rushed. So, Leila's brothers did not play a special role in the future, they were defeated in this way. That is, they had a hand in making wizards hated, and in making Leila's first goal revenge for their imprisonment.

The two main antagonists.

At first, I planned a cute story about Reynold & Winter, and a quick way to defeat Leila. But then I got bored and added a character who was even supposed to reveal Leila herself. So I introduced Leila's brother, Leil, into the story.

Performing the new ritual was like entering into a new contract that destroyed the old one. Sensing the forbidden magic, Leil tracked down its source and saw a weakened Winter, who "stole" some of the mana of the Mirror of Truth itself, and thus allowed the clan member to escape from the "prison" in the next regression.

Equally weak and completely unadapted to the changes in the world, Leil stole the life energy and knowledge of his victims, thanks to which he learned the language. And when he took possession of the second prince's body, he gained a great advantage over Leila - he was reflected in a mirror. The blood of the Imperial family gave him strength, but at the same time it also destroyed him when he used the powers of his clan. It was also difficult to get fangs because of the Emperor's protective artifacts. Leil knew how to wait, so he was in no hurry.

He doesn't feel fear, but excitement and ticklish anticipation from watching, wondering to himself how long it will take him to take over the body he wants and take dominion over the world from his sister.

Secrets within secrets, hidden in the middle of a large maze.

The Crystal of Light artifact is the only reliable weapon against the destruction of darkness. Thanks to a descendant of ancient magicians (Penelope's father), Mr. Verdandi (Winter's father) and Evelyn Eckart (the Duke's wife), the secret of the clan's defeat has been revealed. Penelope will find her father's final records, and Callisto will do anything to prevent his Princess from suffering in this war.

But will they win? Who knows...

Fun fact. No one will read this post, but at the beginning I wanted Leila's brother had to kill Derrick's soul, so that he would be killed in the end :) But I decided to develop this character, so he must live((

[nimarts]

trying to figure out how to make art for myself again is genuinely, like, one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

going to art school and then freelancing full-time for two years made me beat as many "inefficiencies" out of my art as possible. for a while, making illustrations became purely a matter of streamlining my process to take as little time as possible in achieving a result. even now, I feel a little demon in the back of my head screaming at me when I try out a new coloring technique, or take a little too long settling on a sketch.

the demon is also always screaming at me about marketability. you know, like:

"how will this fit in with the rest of your portfolio?"

"what skills of yours will this piece highlight in the eyes of recruiters?"

"will the dimensions of this canvas be eye-catching on twitter? what about instagram?"

they get a little quieter every day. but not by much. not as quiet as I want them to be. not quiet enough to keep me from still being too intimidated to draw on a lot of days, because god forbid I draw anything that looks a little rough, or imperfect, or abstract. when you have clients paying you for art, there's a standard of quality to be adhered to. there's a way they expect it to look. anything else wouldn't make for very strong branding as an artist, now would it?

I don't think that my art is bad. I think I'm pretty good at it, actually. it's why I tried taking a professional route with it in the first place. I thought that with my passion driving me, I'd always be able to strike a healthy balance between making art for a living and making it for myself.

but I... I don't think that I can. I don't think that I ever can. not even in a self-depreciating way; it's just, how can I pour my heart and soul into creating just for the sake of creating the way I used to... while also making sure that I stand out amongst my peers? making sure that I can work consistently and efficiently? making sure that my art is appealing to others?

I don't think that I can get the two to coexist, personally. and that sucks to figure out. I wish I had figured it out before I'd pushed my relationship with my truest passion to the brink of destruction. it sucks to figure out now, after I've gone to art school because art was the only thing my teen self had ever loved for so long, so wholeheartedly. because it was the only thing I ever felt I was kind of good at. like it was the only thing that could possibly get me anywhere in life or make people proud of me.

I think I pushed myself so hard to make art for a living because I couldn't let go of those ideas for a really long time. of course, as an adult, I've learned plenty of different ways at this point to be proud of myself, and that other people will also be proud of me outside of my career and the material things I'm capable of producing. crazy!

even so, trying to draw now after everything feels like trying to coax a hurt, traumatized animal out of its hiding place, knowing that it used to be so sweet and full of love and life. like, I'm trying to make it understand that if it comes to me, I'm not going to yell at it or try beating it with a stick.

and... I'm making progress! I definitely am. it'll sniff my hand now before scurrying away again. and if I'm patient, maybe soon I can give it a pat on the head, too. it's an agonizingly slow process that I know I can't rush, no matter how much I want to.

trying to figure out how to make art for myself again is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. but there's a certain comfort in knowing it is something i have to do- for myself and myself only.

[bitty-bits]

The First and the Last of the Year

And possibly last ever... on Tumblr at least.

Where did I go?

Nowhere in particular... if you've seen my socials all year, that is. This blog/newsletter however, took an extended vacation, not just from a lack of interest (and personal real life stuff getting in the way) but also from a technical standpoint - I really wanted the email newsletter aspect of this to work, but I still couldn't. I was considering using TinyLetter ...until they announced that was shutting down. If I had a nickel for every time a newsletter service shut down out of nowhere I'd have two... you know the rest. And with Tumblr getting worse as the year went by, maintaining this wasn't exactly motivating enough.

That said, it was a less than ideal year for my productivity, inconsistent pace, money issues, the lowest amount of notable dreams to write down on my dream journal to date... you get the idea.

So I can only hope for things to be better. For me to be less lazy... and work not only on stuff I make, but on myself. And I do have a bit of optimism, since a lot has, so let's see a couple of stuff, although everything else you should expect to see in a "rebooted" version of this blog...

Also, Free Palestine!

What I've Been Playing / Watching

So while I haven't fully completed a LOT of things this year, this will be going back to the beginning of the year, essentially, so strap yourselves. (Some of it I'll be grabbing from my media thread that I've made on Twitter as well)

Lucky Star (Finished)

I have posted about Lucky Star in another issue, but I was still in the middle of watching it. Now that I've actually finished watching it (in February) I can say more about it: When it comes to this anime, it was either pretty ahead of its time, or we just have Regressed as a species since then. Maybe the latter.

And sorry folkz, Lucky Star is pro-ship/pro-fic culture and there’s nothing you can do about it. I watched the entire series including the OVA, and while I’m definitely still not sure I’m exactly the "target demographic" what I saw was still very enjoyable. it really just is whatever the fuck and I'm all for it.

At first my kin™ was Konata pretty quickly because of course. That was until Minami showed up and like, she’s basically the weeb version of Ongo Jelly Jamm™!!! I actually can say I got attached to and care about most of the characters, even if just a little.

Like I said in a previous issue, in 2015 I had watched part of an episode of it english dubbed and it didn’t click with me at all. Turns out the dub just sucks as I should’ve expected lol (And I really wasn’t used to segmented "several short stories in one" type anime and stuff to be fair - that and I was dumber too of course so I couldnt properly appreciate the ART........)

My rating is Timotei/10 - and Nichijou is next!

Pizza Tower

Easily the biggest loss for gaming this year was this game not winning "Best Debut Indie" at the Game Awards. Oh well.

I was already highly anticipating this game - having first heard of it when it had a demo at SAGE 2019 I’m glad the game turned out great and is getting the recognition it deserves. I pretty much finished the game in early March. P/10

The Owl House (Finished)

Well... it’s over... for better or worse. I do think they managed to deliver a satisfactory ending all things considered. This was definitely a great cartoon to kick off the new decade.

And of course, fuck Disney as always.

This show got me to break out of, I guess an habit, you could say, or a superstition, or whatever the hell it is, when it came to media with too much ""occultism"" in them. You know the drill. I guess it opened up the little my mind had left that was still a bit closed. Even if it’s mostly involuntary.

But this isn’t even new. As a child I’d actually have an "imaginary friend" that i made (that kinda just Existed, didn’t really "interact" much with them whatsoever cuz i was Dumb™) that their backstory was literally that they were a demon in hell "gone rogue" so they were "not an evil one". Again, I was a kid. I never thought too much about the implications of me thinking about stuff like that already at that age. But it is interesting to think about now.

Anyways, been gay, did witchcraft. ⛥/5

Invader ZIM (Series + Enter The Florpus)

Well I did it. I finally watched the funny hot topic show™ (Finished in late May)

What can I even say about it that hasn’t been already said by everyone else? ...well maybe I have one thing: for some reason I didn’t find That One Episode that people always bring up the MOST disturbing one. I thought the one with a literal character flatlining and Zim being ":)" about it got to me a bit more.

Anyways yeah it’s Cool I liked the characters especially Gaz, and GIR obviously Why Wouldn’t He Be Here. The show can be stupid and end episodes in Whatever The Fuck ways that leave you like "That's it? That's the episode???" but I think that’s one of the unique aspects of it that I Enjoy - also the movie is cool. ☮️>🐔+🍚/10

The Super Mario Bros. Movie (2023)

So I watched it first when we only had shitty cinema bootleg recordings (that aren’t even that shitty anymore at this point in terms of quality, the Shit comes in the form of godawful intrusive illegal casino ads™ placed.) even though a bit later the raw movie would sometimes be uploaded in full to YouTube with no consequence for days. And at this point I’ve rewatched it plenty of times in proper HD (though only once in English cuz I’ll be honest, the Brazilian dub really is phenomenal really and blows the original "star talent cast" out of the water in my opinion, where it falls short is the voice for Luigi, as I know the dude’s voice too well and he’s just doing his normal voice with an accent, not to mention he’s the brazilian Sonic voice already!!!)

I think Charlie Day is the superior Loogy here but I’d still say the dub is better, not only for the fact there are "real voice actors" cuz you know, that’s Their Job, but also like, Charles Martinet is still in there cuz in case you didn't know, he voiced that jumpman dude’s only line in pretty much every language possible which is absurd/admirable.

It’s a fun movie if not mostly for looking at Mario Things happening that you know and recognize, because otherwise the story is pretty ridiculously basic, though even for "Mario game story" standards it’s definitely refreshing to see Luigi as the one to be rescued... though that Also sucks because Luigi deserved more screentime. The main Toad too. Oh well. Also disappointed that the "wise Toad" in the movie isn’t Toadsworth… or maybe he is but hasn’t aged yet and maybe in a sequel we’ll see him get older and then main Toad becomes Captain Toad. Who knows 🍄/10

Honorable Mentions - Stuff I've Watched That I've Yet To Write My Thoughts About, I Don't Have The Time Now

Spy × Family (Season 1) - Not the type of anime I'd see myself watching, but I was forced roped into it by one of my partners and found it to be VERY enjoyable.

Sparkle On, Raven: The Life of Drillgirl - Charming, shitpost-y, but genuine and fun

The Amazing Digital Circus - A very promising series with unexpected popularity, and equally unexpected high quality Brazilian dub with recognizable talent.

Murder Drones (Season 1 - 6/8) - A series I've been cautiously optimistic about since its pilot - it has endearing, enjoyable characters and settings, but flawed writing and pacing - more on that at a future date.

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off - An amazing take on a series that I'm not so familiar with (haven't seen the movie or read the comics, only really knew that the franchise "exists") and judging from what I've heard from others, it probably is the best take on the main storyline. Especially when it comes to the representation of who turned out to be my fave - Roxie. Watching the live action now is... probably gonna be very weird. Not sure if I want to.

Kunshikter (Күншіктер) - A new, yet very obscure cartoon from Kazakhstan. It's cute. It's for children but at this point I don't think y'all care. It's still ongoing and there are not many episodes so far. I recommend giving it a watch. Now!

Future YouTube Updates

As some of you saw in a xeet tweet from early October I was planning to do something significant on my main YouTube channel which has been stagnant for a while now, only for that to, surprise, not happen. I do have a set goal now: In very early January, a video to explain exactly what happened and what was the video I wanted to make, and... why it's hard for me to get a video like that out in the first place. The short answer (that doesn't actually account for Everything) is autism. The long answer is... stay tuned for it, lol

Song of the Issue

Although this section was supposed to be for sharing music that isn't mine, I thought I'd share snippets of music stuff I've been making since the beginning of 2023 until now, that you can look forward to!

Conclusion

I dunno. All I can say is... happy new year! It's been a tradition to make a stupid amateurish collage at the end of the year with the highlights, but this year there's been... less of them, that I took note of at least. But that won't stop me I think. Once I have that done, I may edit this to include it.

No comment on anything related to Twitter (which I'll never call "X") and the billionaire that happened this year as you all probably already know by now, and by the way you can now follow me on the social butterfly of bluesky. See you next year!

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

Hey everyone ...

I guess, I'm back (more or less).

First of all, thanks for all the messages and the love. ❤️❤️❤️ It's really sweet of all of you to be so concernced about me. ❤️❤️❤️

I am getting better (sooner or later), so I'll try to be back and more active. On top of my list is finishing the new Showman and all the advent calendar fanfics as soon as possible. Please have a tiny bit of more patience. I'm very, very, very and deeply sorry about how this went and I wish, I could have managed to still upload the fics every day. I'll try to post them as soon as possible.

Also, answering all the messages and finally coming around to post all the content and check up on what I missed (on tumblr, with my mutuals, with Ze and Olena, ... - if anyone wants to update me, feel free to send a message ❤️).

And about what happened, for anyone who wants to know (putting under a cut for anyone who doesn't care which is totally fine):

I started to have back problems some weeks ago but I more or less ignored them. I was being very active over the last few weeks, did a lot of sport and increased the difficulty and on top of that was a bit stressed about several things in my life (like the whole eye infection thing but also other things). So I thought my back pain was a mixture of sore muscles and just stress. Since the back pain also disappeared sometimes or was barely noticable, I thought, it's probably nothing.

Oh boy, was I wrong.

Over the last weekend my back started to get worse but since I had a pretty intense training on Friday, I still thought it's just sore muscles. On Monday it got really awful and I started to have a lot of pain all the time, to a point, were I needed stronger and stronger medication and could barely move. On Tuesday my boyfriend dragged me to the doctor but since he was already gone, I got an appointment for Wednesday, believing that would be no problem (I was massively downplaying my pain since I hate, hate, hate doctors thanks to my anxiety - which sucks since I have super nice and awesome doctors but unfortunately my anxiety doesn't care).

Welp, I did not make it until Wednesday. By Tuesday afternoon I was in so much pain that I was basically crying non-stop and could only move with pain. In the end, my boyfriend put me in the car and we drove to the emergency room (anxiety and immense pain is not a great combination, so on top of all that - hello panic attacks; but bless my boyfriend for doing this and getting me help).

In the emergency room they drugged with the heavy stuff to stop the pain and ease my nerves and after hours, I was allowed to leave, with strong painkillers in my bag.

Next day I went to my doctor and ever since he's treating me with strong painkillers and therapy starting next week.

I needed some days to get used to the painkillers and give my body some rest (also because I was emotional and psychially drained - it was hard on my psyche since this was another health issue in a long row I had this year and I had yet again to go to the hospital). I'm not pain free, the pain is just managable. Sitting hurts after a short time, lying on a flat surface is okay, standing is 50:50 of being in pain or not so much.

I still have an MRT coming up next week. Let's see what that says.

I am on my way of recovery and my doctor said it needs up to two weeks before my back starts to get better, so at this point, I'm counting down days and try to numb the pain as much as possible.

No idea who cursed my health this year, but sincerely fuck you and find someone else. I've honestly seen enough doctors, hospitals, machines and medications this year.