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tenelkadjowrites · 2 months

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The Heart's Filthy Lesson - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

🪓Summary: Your best friend has always been dedicated to you. But isn't everyone's best friend like that?

🪓Word count: 15k

🪓Playlist for this fic can be found here.

🪓Genre & warnings: one shot smut. (twisted) best friends to lovers. unreliable narrator. elements of horror. descriptions of stalking against the reader, violence against others (not the reader), unhealthy relationship dynamics. dom hwa. dirty talk. underwear is torn off reader. oral sex, reader receiving. choking, reader receiving. unprotected sex. creampie.

this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

You’re fumbling with your keys, trying to get it into the lock without dropping your overstuffed bag. Why do I overpack so much? You curse inwardly. Every time, you swear that only essentials will be packed. Somehow, that ends up meaning enough underwear for a month and clothes for three different outfits a day even when you’re just visiting family.

You manage to get the key in the lock, practically tumbling inside your small apartment on the third story. Unceremoniously dumping your bag on the floor, you let out a long sigh. Like all family visits, you’re glad for them but also socially drained.

Padding into your living room, you wince a little. Way too much light in here, you think, I thought for sure I closed the blinds when I left. You turn around, fighting off the urge to take a nap. The trip is catching up to you, leaving you tired.

But you stand in the middle of the room, feeling a strange sense of unease. The living room looks entirely the same yet you cannot shake the sensation that something is different. It’s just cuz I thought I had closed the blinds. But the words ring hollow in your head.

In the quiet atmosphere of the apartment, you can distantly hear the traffic outside and the neighbor upstairs moving something heavy around. Your eyes slowly look across your kitchen counters before landing on a small pile of mail.

Curiously, you walk towards it, picking up the stack. There is a small sticky note stuck to the top with just a quickly drawn smiley face on it, the ink smeared into the paper on one side. Frowning, you peel it off and go through the mail. All of it is from when you were gone –

A knock on the door makes you jump, pressing your hand against your chest for a second. The pile of mail drops back to the counter, scattering across it as you go to the door. You don’t check who it is. You already know.

Opening the door, you find yourself face to face with your overly enthusiastic best friend.

“Hey, I remembered you were supposed to be back around this time so I figured I’d come over to say hi.”

“Hi, Seonghwa,” You say, already moving to the side to let him in.

He glances over his shoulder at you while heading into the living room. “How was the trip? How was your family? Did you tell them that I said hi?” Every word is said quickly, as if they are all fighting for importance and can’t decide what order to pop out in.

You push the door closed, trailing after him. You’ve known Seonghwa longer than anyone else in your life – he used to live next door where you befriended one another at just six years old. You went to the same high school, even the same college and when you decided to move to the city, so did he. You lived on different sides of the city at first until a year ago, when the apartment building finally had an opening and now he lived just one floor under yours. The two of you were a team – you knew everything about him and he never forgot a detail about you. Things were comfortable…although maybe a little too comfortable.

You cross your arms, leaning against the wall. “You brought my mail in.”

He turns to look at you, smiling brightly. Seonghwa always had the same countenance – pleasant and happy. “Yeah, of course.”

“I don’t remember giving you a key.”

“Oh, your plant needs watering.” He leans over and touches the wilting leaves gently, already moving past the fact he let himself into your place without asking. “Want me to do it?” He looks up at you.

You sigh, walking towards him. “Seonghwa,” You touch his hand gently, trying to get his attention.

His expression falters just for a moment before guilt pops in behind his eyes. Seonghwa looks tired, although that isn’t new, because he’s always on his computer at all times of the day and night. He glances downward at where your fingers had grazed his skin for a split second. His profile is so familiar to you – the sharp curve of his jaw, the long nose, his perfectly plump lips hiding perfect teeth. This is the same man you’ve grown up with your entire life. You know objectively he is beautiful but you’ve known him for so long that it no longer catches your notice. From the time he got in trouble for pushing a kid bullying you at the playground when you were both eight years old to sneaking out while in high school to go drink to this very moment, he’s always been there. That’s why you dislike whenever you come off as though you’re lecturing him.

“It was from two weeks ago. Remember? I had to let the plumbers in for you,” Seonghwa protests.

“You’re supposed to give the key back,” You hold out your hand, wiggling your fingers.

He ducks his head, some of his hair falling in front of his eyes as he looks down at the sagging plant. “It’s in my place. I don’t keep it on me.”

“Fine,” You sigh, “Next time, okay?”

Seonghwa bites down on his bottom lip for a second before his eyes lock on yours. “It happened six months ago. I mean, don’t you think – I think I’ve done a good job at not crossing a boundary since then.”

You hadn’t been expecting to have this conversation today. But maybe that is your own fault for constantly putting it off. It isn’t even that you’re mad at him anymore. But coming home late one night to find him passed out drunk in your bed after using your key to get in just felt like shattering a boundary. You took your key back after that, giving your best friend a dressing down even though he was apologizing profusely.

“I mean, you technically weren’t supposed to use the key to drop off my mail,” You point out.

His cheeks flush. “I was trying to be helpful,” He mumbles, eyes darting away from your face.

You sigh, knowing you’re going to give in. That is how it usually worked with Seonghwa. He was always the overzealous best friend, eager to help you even to the extent that it resulted in too much on his own plate.

“I know,” You reply, “And I appreciate it.”

His face lights up, all earlier guilt and tension erased immediately. Seonghwa immediately begins to pepper you with questions about the trip back home, leaving the earlier conversation about boundaries long passed. You aren’t sure if anything you said even sunk into his head. Likely not, you think.

After all, you know Seonghwa so well. You know what sticks to him.

“Hey!” The familiar chipper voice snaps you out of your mindless phone scrolling.

It’s two days later, after work, and you’re meeting Seonghwa for a coffee. The key issue is long forgotten, overtaken by the daily events of life that naturally take more importance than your best friend helpfully bringing in your mail.

He’s pushing through the crowd of people that have formed looking for a late afternoon caffeine boost. It had begun snowing earlier and there are a few snowflakes melting in his hair. His brown jacket hangs off his thin frame, the same jacket he’s had for easily a decade because he doesn’t care enough to buy a new one. It’s well worn, fraying at the seams near the elbows, and you’ve seen it against the backdrop of a multitude of different coffee shops.

“Am I late?” He stands by the table, looking down at you, not paying attention to the man trying to get past him while carefully balancing two cups of coffee in his hands.

“No. Even if you were, it’s okay. I was waiting for you before I got anything.”

You move to get up but Seonghwa shakes his head quickly. “No, no,” He nudges you back in the seat gently, “I’ll go order for us. It’s too crowded.” He is looking in your eyes. “I know what you like.”

He’s gone then, back in the crowd, moving towards the counter. You watch him go, turning your attention back to your phone. Ten minutes later, Seonghwa returns, handing you the coffee and sliding into the seat across from yours. The table is crammed in the corner, a clear attempt to try to fit more seats inside since the snow is coming down.

“I’m getting sensory overload in here,” You remark when someone smacks your arm with their laptop bag on accident.

“Do you want to go?” Seonghwa leans forward, “We can go if it’s too much.”

“No, it’s fine,” You shake your head, “I should have given more consideration to the time, I guess. How are you?”

He drums his fingers against the table while answering. “Fine. The usual. How was work?”

“The usual too. That project I’ve been stuck working on finishes next week – ow,” You wince as someone else hits your arm while squeezing through the tight space between your table and the next.

Seonghwa reacts like lightning, too quick for you to even say anything. His hand reaches for the strap of the man’s bag and he gives a sharp tug on it. “Hey!” He snaps and the man looks over his shoulder with wide eyes, “Pay attention to where you’re going!”

“Seonghwa, it’s fine –”

“I’d rather walk in the snow than be in here,” He says curtly, grabbing his coffee cup and gesturing for you to follow.

You do, and out in the cold, let out a small sigh of relief. Alright, maybe the idea of leaving the crowded coffee shop was the right choice. The soft layer of snow that is forming across everything is ruined by the many feet trampling over it hurrying to get home after work.

But you walk slowly along the sidewalk with Seonghwa, neither of you speaking for a few minutes. You glance out of the corner of your eye to find him looking at you.

He clears his throat quickly and asks, “What were you trying to say in there?”

“Oh, the project. It’s winding down next week. I’m relieved.”

Someone cuts in between the two of you and when Seonghwa moves back closer, he is no longer looking in your direction. “Is the project leader still texting you outside of work?”

You blink, a little surprised he remembers such a small detail from a few months ago. “Yeah, sometimes. But it isn’t anything unprofessional.”

Seonghwa’s cheeks are slightly red from the cold. He is holding the coffee cup tightly for warmth. “He might ask you out when the project is done.”

“Maybe,” You reply with a shrug, “We’ll see.”

Your best friend falls silent. The look in his eyes is from a thousand miles away for a couple of seconds before it snaps back into focus. “Would you say yes?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll see how I feel when it happens.” You hadn’t given it a lot of thought.

There is another silence which is unusual for Seonghwa who usually fills the conversation easily. But he seems to be mulling something over and is lost in thought – a rarity.

“What about you?”

His head snaps up, looking at you. “What do you mean?”

A lone snowflake lands on the bridge of his nose. You lean forward and brush it off. The gesture comes automatically, instilled from years of friendship. You’ve brushed a thousand snowflakes off his face and shoulders over the many winters spent hanging out.

“That woman at the coffee shop was flirting with you a few weeks back,” You then frown, “But we haven’t been back since. We could’ve gotten you a date.”

Seonghwa turns his face away from yours, slowing his pace down a little while watching the rush hour traffic grow larger on the road.

“No, I’m good.”

Coming to a stop at the crosswalk, you nudge his shoe with yours. “You haven’t been on a single date in ages.”

“So?” He turns to look at you, his eyes wide and questioning.

“Nothing, you just work a lot from home, that’s all. I wouldn’t want you to miss out something fun because of that.”

“Trust me, I’m not. I just am not interested in awkward dates.” He bounces on the heels of his shoes for a couple of seconds until the crosswalk turns green and he takes off like a shot.

This is typical of Seonghwa’s walking speed and you try to keep up. “Was I overstepping?”

“No,” He replies swiftly, his energy bubbling underneath the surface, “But I had a string of very awkward dates all last year and I need a break from them.” He runs his fingers through his hair, still walking at a brisk pace.

“Right, I get that. I didn’t mean to come off like I was lecturing –”

Seonghwa stops suddenly, so abruptly that you almost trip over your own feet. “You never come off like you’re lecturing,” He says, reaching out to help steady you, “I understand you just want what is best for me.”

“Right,” The word sends up a tiny puff of air from the cold, “You’re in your apartment a lot except when you’re with me. That’s all.”

Seonghwa’s hand is still on your arm but the grip is so loose that you can’t even feel it through the thick jacket. His nails are bitten to the quick. He lowers his hand once he knows you’re not going to fall over.

He flashes a quick grin, the same expression you’ve seen a thousand times. Your shoulders relax, knowing he isn’t upset with you.

“Is that so bad? Maybe I just wanna hang out with my best friend right now.”

“No, there isn’t anything wrong with it. I just need to make sure you’re doing alright though. You’d do the same for me.”

Seonghwa’s grin softens and he gently punches you on the shoulder. “Yeah, of course I would. I’d do anything for you. You know that.” He straightens up. “Now, come on. Enough discussing how I prefer to be indoors all day. Mental check-in complete. Ask me again in six weeks.”

“Right,” You are smiling, your concerns about Seonghwa spending too much time alone now allayed.

“Let’s get home, alright? I’m freezing.”

The conversation resumes, the ebb and flow always the same, some topics circled back so often over the course of time that they feel more like well read books with their spines bent than anything exciting. But you like that with Seonghwa.

With him, what you see is what you get.

“Nope, not Mario Party,” Seonghwa shakes his head, stretched out on the couch in his apartment, “You turn into someone I don’t even know when you play that. Half the time, I think you’re gonna tear my face off.”

You scoff. “Come on. That isn’t true.”

“Yes, it is. Think about last time.”

Shifting awkwardly on the couch, you avoid his eyes. “Whatever,” You mumble, remembering cursing him out for stealing your star.

It’s a week later and you’re trying to unwind from the stresses of work. The project finished yesterday which meant some relief. It is almost a routine now to pop over to Seonghwa’s, play a video game and unwind – to the point where neither of you ask to confirm, it just happens.

His place is organized and tidy, in a way that you could never hope to replicate. A shelf lined with books is next to the TV, with another one filled with his Legos he builds to unwind. His computer with dual monitors is in the corner, the chair pushed out from where he hastily got up once work finished for the day. The apartment is comforting.

Seonghwa gives you a knowing look and you drop the subject, aware he is right. He runs his fingers through his hair before turning his attention to the TV, leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.

“You hear from that client? The one who is clearly interested in you?” He asks suddenly, staring at the TV while booting up Netflix.

Surprised, you glance at him and shift a bit in your spot on the couch. “He’s been texting me a bit.”

Seonghwa makes a noncommittal noise although for one second, you swear his grip on the remote tightens. When he doesn’t say anything further, you’re unsure of where to take the conversation. He’s never shown much interest in who you’ve dated before – in fact, he’s always seemed bored hearing about them, to the point that you barely mention it. You wonder what makes this guy different but something in you holds back asking.

“I gotta pee,” You say instead, and he just nods, swept up in whatever he’s thinking about.

You head down the hall and into the bathroom. You’re about to sit down when you notice there is no toilet paper on the roll. Rolling your eyes, you open the cabinet under the sink and rummage around. Why does he never pay attention to this stuff? Better yet why are you surprised?

The cabinet is as organized as the rest of his place but there is no sign of toilet paper. You try to remember if he stashes it elsewhere but nothing comes to mind. You think of your own cabinet under the bathroom sink and wince. Seonghwa has always been the more organized of you two. You’re lost in thought, pushing aside some cleaning supplies when your eyes land on a strange small black box pushed all the way to the back.

It’s slim and almost glossy, completely out of place to be shoved underneath the bathroom stick. You chew on your bottom lip, curiosity nipping at your brain. Seonghwa isn’t the one for secrets. There’s probably Pokémon cards or something inside that he misplaced.

But you still reach for the box, sitting down on the bathroom floor and opening it quietly. Guilt is poking at you for snooping through your best friend’s stuff. You can’t explain what is even driving you to open something personal that belongs to Seonghwa.

But you do.

There isn’t a lot inside.

One pair of underwear. A house key. A small bracelet.

Your pair of underwear. Your house key. Your small bracelet.

You stare at the items, not comprehending what is in your lap. The pair of underwear is green lace, one of your cuter pairs, and it went missing months ago. Around the time I found him passed out drunk in my bed, a small voice in your head points out.

The memory of the night replays. Coming home late, finding Seonghwa fast asleep in your bed, flopped on his stomach, wrapped up in the bedsheets as if it was his own room. You were frustrated at the lack of respect for your personal space. Seonghwa always had a tendency to do such things; back in college, more than once you’d wake up to him in your dorm with a cup of coffee in hand, somehow getting past security.

But you snapped that night, under a lot of work pressure and startled at finding a shape in your bed in the middle of the night. Waking Seonghwa up, you angrily asked him what he had been doing. Seonghwa slurred his words, said he was drunk and apologized. He sounded panicked and ashamed but that didn’t stop you from demanding your key back. You hadn’t talked to him for three days while he left you a ton of texts and messages apologizing and explaining himself. It was the longest you had gone without speaking to him.

Back in the present, you gingerly reach for the pair of underwear. Why would he take this? Your cheeks feel hot looking at it. Was he…doing something with this? Surely, that would be impossible. For a split second, your brain flashes a mental image of Seonghwa with his hand wrapped around the underwear as he – nope, no.

You drop it back into the box, opting for the bracelet instead. It’s a thin fake gold band with a tiny cubic zirconia diamond in it. You wore it over ten years ago, one night at the summer festival. Your boyfriend at the time just broke up with you and all you wanted to do was stay inside until Seonghwa prodded you to go with him. You wore the bracelet then, with a sun dress, trying to make an effort to look presentable. Seonghwa won a stuffed animal at one of the booths and gave it to you. You don’t remember misplacing the bracelet.

The house key winks knowingly at you.

You shut the box, shoving it hurriedly back in its spot as your heart threatened to explode in your chest. Your head is spinning, wondering what the hell to do. Do you confront him about it? That is what you’re supposed to do. But what do you even say?

You turn on the faucet, splashing cold water on your face while trying to gather your thoughts. Could it be that Seonghwa had some sort of crush on you? That is absurd. Keeping the bracelet would mean it has been a minimum of ten years he’s been pining for me. It could be longer. That’s enough to drive anyone mad.

In any case, you needed to get out of his apartment and try to calm yourself down. You had a tendency not to think very rationally when emotional and it would be better to put some space away from Seonghwa until you figured out how to broach the subject.

You open the bathroom slowly, trying to collect yourself and steady your breathing. When you enter the living room, Seonghwa is idly watching TV. He glances over at you and then frowns.

“What’s wrong?”

So much for looking casual.

“My boss texted me and there’s some crisis with another client. I need to pop back home and get on a Zoom meeting.” You don’t even know where the lie came from but it leaves your mouth smoothly.

Seonghwa sounds exasperated when he replies with, “You’re kidding.”

“No, sorry. You know how it is. Big girl job.”

“Yeah, fine, I get it.”

You are trying to get to the door without asking him what the fuck but he meets you there, his hand on the door knob. You force yourself to look at him directly – this face you know so well, this face you’ve stared at a thousand times. The same face that won you a stuffed animal at the festival ten years ago. Nothing has changed.

“I’ll message you later,” You say.

“Alright,” He opens the door, “Later.”

It closes behind your back, leaving you alone in the hallway. You stand there for a few moments.

You have no proof but there’s the sensation of Seonghwa looking through the peephole at you.

Not seeing your best friend for two days does nothing to help you figure out how to broach the subject of the tiny black box underneath his bathroom sink. By the time you see Seonghwa Sunday afternoon, the only idea you have is to avoid the discussion completely and opt to veer the conversation into you going on a date with someone.

The sun is lazily cutting across the floor of your living room while you pretend to be making coffee in the kitchen. Seonghwa is talking animatedly from the couch about something that happened the day before. You’re not really paying attention. Your mind keeps flashing to the night he fell asleep in your bed, picturing him rummaging through your underwear drawer to take a pair and slipping it into his pocket. You’re remembering the way he comforted you after getting dumped, convincing you to go to the festival. You can see him against the backdrop of the small white bulbs that were hanging off the booths, running his fingers through his hair while explaining with easy confidence how he could win a stuffed animal.

“Hey,” Seonghwa’s voice cuts through the memories and you blink, looking up from your place at the kitchen counter to see him standing in front of you, “Are you even listening to me?”

“I’m going on a date Tuesday night,” You blurt out without preamble, “With the client. The project that just finished.”

Seonghwa looks thrown before clearing his throat and replying, “Alright.”

But you keep going. “I think we have a real connection. It could turn into something.”

For the briefest moment, Seonghwa’s face goes startingly blank. There is nothing behind his eyes, and no expression on his face. Then he snaps back into focus, his hands pressing flat against the counter. “That’s good.”

You’re lying, of course, you doubt anything will come from this date. But if Seonghwa is harbouring some sort of intense crush on you, maybe showing him you’re into someone else will fix things. Knock the thoughts out of his head, redirect his focus to something else. Anything to get out of having a horrible discussion with him that could ruin the most solid friendship you’ve ever had in your entire life.

“Yeah, I can let you know how it goes,” You say a little too quickly, “Might be good for me. Like, I haven’t had a relationship in a couple of years. I feel ready for one now.”

Seonghwa pushes himself away from the counter, turning his back to you. “That’s great.” He plops back down on the couch. “Remind me again what I know about this guy.”

You decide to take this opportunity to really sell this man, to truly drive it home that this could be someone that you will be smitten with. You spend the next five minutes prattling on about him. At one point, you sit on the couch, on the opposite side of where Seonghwa is, still enthusiastically talking about a man you’ve barely thought of the entire time you worked with him.

Seonghwa’s face is slightly tilted with his arm propped up on the side of the couch, hand resting against his cheek. He’s looking at the wall, eyes distant. You’re trying to stay the course and see your speech through while at the same time studying his face for any sign that this onslaught of information is settling in. But there isn’t anything, not even a clenching of his jaw.

Running out of breath, you stop speaking and the room lapses into silence. Seonghwa stirs, turning his face in your direction. There it is once more – the same blank stare from earlier. Nothing behind his eyes, gone in a flash, replaced with the same Seonghwa you knew. You swallow hard, suddenly feeling a little off kilter. There is something unfamiliar in that blankness, something that is brand new ground in the relationship with your best friend.

“Well, you sound excited,” He says casually, “You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”

Your shoulders relax slightly. Are you overthinking everything? If Seonghwa was upset, you’d notice, right? You’ve seen him angry or annoyed a thousand times before. But the box still tugs at your sleeve. There’s a reason he has that. There is a reason he kept the underwear, the bracelet, the key. But the idea of asking your best friend why he has a box with such contents makes you want to jump off a cliff.

And Seonghwa is…comforting. Maybe it is selfish to think of him that way and to want nothing to change, especially if things are different at his end. But he’s been in your life for so long that the idea of him potentially not wanting to be around you anymore due to a crush forming makes your anxiety spike. He’s been there through everything…You can get stuff back on track. You can fix things without mentioning the box.

You’re sure of it.

Typically, the process of getting ready for a date is somewhat fun and enjoyable. You tend to overthink your outfit but other than that, you like listening to music, doing your makeup and wondering how the night will go.

This date doesn’t feel like that, mostly because the entire time you’re getting ready, your mind keeps going to Seonghwa.

You’ve been overanalyzing his behavior since your Oscar winning performance convincing him this date is important. It’s been a few days since your speech and he seems exactly the same. Maybe a little more reserved if you truly look at the small details. But that could be work related, you argue, maybe I need to stop being so self-absorbed and think that everything has to do with me.

But then you think back to the box with your underwear, bracelet and key. Any rational person would just talk to their best friend about it. Instead, you’re forcing yourself to go on this date in hopes of avoiding it because you’re being selfish, putting your feelings before his and wanting everything to remain normal.

Your phone suddenly rings, startling you out of your brooding. It’s your client – no, your date.

“Hello?”

“Hey, listen,” His voice comes out fast and urgent, “I am so sorry but I’m going to have to cancel.”

“What? Why?” It comes out way more demanding than intended but you had been banking on this…

“Some fucking psycho ruined my car! It’s all smashed up! Like, it’s completely fucking ruined!” The client’s voice pitches higher in anxiety and an undercurrent of fear.

You grip the phone tightly while exclaiming, “What?!”

“My tires are slashed, my windows are blown out! The doors have these deep gash marks in the side like some lunatic took a fucking axe to it! Even the insides are cut up…Christ, I gotta go, okay? I’m really sorry. We’ll reschedule, I promise.”

“No, of course, I understand. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe that happened,” You say in shock, “That’s horrible.”

“Thanks. Again, really sorry. I’ll call you, okay?”

The call ends as suddenly as it began. You stare at your phone for a few seconds, feeling a wave of sympathy for your client. It would be horrible to deal with your car getting messed up like that. But this meant the date was pushed back…

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you wondered what to do now. Normally when plans fell through, you’d hang out with Seonghwa. If he found out the date got cancelled and you didn’t come over, he could think you’re avoiding him. But showing up all dolled up for a date that had nothing to do with him could be rubbing his face in things too, couldn’t it?

“I’m so sick of overthinking,” You mumble, leaving your bathroom and trying to find a hoodie to tug over your outfit, yanking it on over your head, adjusting it a bit and then grabbing your bag, “I don’t care.”

You’re lying – you care more than you’d like to admit, both about Seonghwa and whatever is going on with his feelings towards you and the fact deep down you’re aware that you are handling this poorly.

A few minutes later, you’re knocking on the front door of Seonghwa’s apartment. While you do have a key to his place, you weren’t going to violate that boundary even though you knew he wouldn’t see it that way.

No one answers.

You knock again but this time you go, “Hey, Seonghwa?”

Now, you can hear shuffling inside the apartment followed by a muffled, “Just a second!”

The door opens a second later. Seonghwa has clearly just gotten out of the shower. His hair is still soaking wet, dripping onto his black t-shirt. He runs his hands through his hair, trying to smooth it out but all that does is send some water droplets flying to the floor.

“What, were you taking a swim?” You joke.

His eyes land on you. “Wasn’t expecting you to come by. I thought you had that date.”

“I did but he had to cancel,” You reply as Seonghwa moves to let you inside, “He called me and told me like…his car got fucked up.”

“His car got fucked up,” He deadpans, raising one eyebrow, “Are you sure he isn’t lying?”

You scoff. “Seriously? Who would lie about that? He told me someone slashed his tires, broke his windows, banged up the doors and shit. So, he needed to go deal with it. We’re gonna reschedule.”

Seonghwa runs one hand through his hair again, seemingly unbothered by how wet it is. Even his t-shirt is damp, clinging to his frame. He flexes his fingers on his right hand, an action that is unfamiliar to you. The muscles in his arms move. You’re staring and don’t know why. It’s like he was mid shower when he got out or something, you think.

“So, I’m the backup plan?” He asks and there’s a strange edge to the sentence, stripping it of any humor.

You blink, thrown by the tone. “No, I didn’t…”

But Seonghwa smiles then, and his voice is back to normal. “It’s cool. I wasn’t doing anything tonight. We can hang out. You wanna watch TV?”

You nod, trailing after him into the comfort of his living room. He goes into the kitchen, opening the fridge and leaning forward to try to find something to drink. His t-shirt lays flat across his back, his black hair curling against the nape of his neck, still dripping onto the tile. You stare at him for a few seconds before settling in on the couch. You’re suddenly acutely aware of the dress you’re wearing although most of it is covered up by the hoodie. He didn’t seem to notice your outfit or makeup anyway. Be serious. He’s seen you on dates a lot of times.

There is the sound of a beer opening as Seonghwa returns to the couch, tossing you a bottle of water as he plops down next to you. You glance at him out of the corner of your eyes as he takes a swig from the beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing while swallowing.

“Aren’t you afraid you’re going to ruin the couch with your hair dripping everywhere?”

He tilts his face in your direction and then rests his head directly on the back of the couch. You roll your eyes.

“Get a towel.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You’re just trying to annoy me now.”

“Yup.”

The exchange is so normal and familiar that you don’t even realize you’ve sunken onto the couch next to him as he flips through the channels. The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, so comfortable that you forget the box stuffed away in Seonghwa’s bathroom for the first time since discovering it.

Apparently, he is comfortable too because at some point, you realize you’re hearing soft snoring. Surprised, you look over at him. He’s dozed off, eyes closed, chest rising and falling peacefully. His mouth is open slightly, head to the side, blissfully unaware of his wet hair. Seonghwa often kept odd hours and it wasn’t so strange for him to fall asleep as soon as he got even mildly relaxed.

Mixed emotions are mingling inside your chest – a concoction of anxiety, peacefulness, and a sense of impending doom. In this quiet moment, it is as though you’re standing on a beach watching a tsunami approach. You’ve been trying so hard to run from the change that swept in with discovering that tiny box underneath the bathroom sink.

You want to lean over and wake Seonghwa up, just ask him what is going on. But you still balk at the conversation and at tarnishing this moment where everything feels so normal.

You wonder if the box is still under the sink.

Maybe you imagined it.

With one last glance at Seonghwa, you get up. Even though you’re walking to the bathroom, you cannot shake the guilt feeling swooping over your chest. You glance over your shoulder. He’s still perfectly asleep.

Seonghwa’s bedroom door is next to the bathroom, slightly ajar. You glance inside out of habit. His bed is perfectly made with a couple of framed posters on the walls. There isn’t anything out of place but…

Maybe it’s the way the light from the hallway lays across the carpet or maybe you’re spending too long looking inside but before you completely pass by something shines for a split second. You slow down and then stop, hovering in the doorway to his room. Your heart is beating quickly now.

One final look in Seonghwa’s direction to ensure he’s sleeping sends you into his bedroom. Now who is breaking boundaries? A little voice in your head remarks cruelly. You cross the carpet towards what caught your eye – the glint of something similar to a knife. The bathroom towel has been quickly thrown over whatever it is.

Bending down, your fingers hover over the towel. Your entire body is screaming for you just to leave and get out of there. You’re snooping, you’re keeping secrets, you’re posturing as if Seonghwa has done something unforgiveable but meanwhile you’re not doing anything better –

You snatch the towel off the object and your heart falls into a pool of ice water.

An axe is laying on the floor. You stare at it while the hair on the back of your neck stands up. “The doors have these deep gash marks in the side like some lunatic took a fucking axe to it!” The words of your date ring in your head with deafening volume. You think about Seonghwa asking for information about the client and how you babbled endlessly in order to convince him this date was real. You knocked on the door and he hadn’t been ready for you, soaking wet, barely toweled off as if he had been busy…what, hiding the axe under the towel?

This is insane. Do you realize what your brain is jumping to? What are you trying to suggest? That Seonghwa went out to this guy’s place and ruined his car? Do you know what that implies? It implies he’s not just crushing on you. It implies there’s something…wrong. There’s something wrong with him. That’s what you’re thinking about your best friend right now.

The anxiety hits you full force in the chest then. You can hardly breathe, quickly covering up the axe and stumbling to your feet. You didn’t know what to do. You don’t even know what to say to him. The most important thing is getting out of here –

“What are you doing?”

You almost jump out of your skin, whirling around to see Seonghwa’s figure in the doorway. His face is half in shadow and one hand is on the door frame. You take a step back, almost tripping over the axe while straightening up.

“I thought you were sleeping,” You mumble and all efforts to make your voice sound normal fail.

“I woke up.” His voice is different, altered.

Seonghwa takes a step into the room and his face is clearer now. Yet there is that same look you have seen flashes of before. The complete emptiness of expression, the utter blankness behind his eyes. There is nothing familiar about him now.

“Now,” He says in a cold voice, “Who is the one breaking boundaries?”

You swallow hard while your brain fumbles for an excuse. But instead of speaking one, what leaves your mouth is, “Why do you have an axe?”

“Is it illegal to own one?”

“No but it’s a little strange to have it on your bedroom floor underneath a towel.” You try to make it come out like a lighthearted joke but your voice quivers, giving you away.

Seonghwa takes another step. In exchange, you back up, over the axe and closer to his night table. It seems ridiculous to be afraid of your best friend. But it also is ridiculous to have a secret box in the bathroom and an axe on the floor.

His right hand flexes and his jaw is clenched. You get the feeling he is trying to wrangle himself under control – but from what? He has all the qualities of the Seonghwa you know but it’s like someone smeared him with a layer of paint and distorted him.

You try again. “Why do you have the axe, Seonghwa?”

He doesn’t answer. Just moves closer. You’re cornered now. He’s near enough to touch, to grab his shirt and demand he answer you – this man you don’t know, this man you’re realizing you might not know at all.

“Why are you in my room?” Seonghwa makes a small noise, a tsk tsk, before adding, “Gonna have to ask for my key back, I think. Didn’t we just discuss boundaries?”

Up this close, you can better see the blankness in his eyes. You can smell the familiar scent of his shampoo and body wash. Your mind is telling you to run but your heart is whispering that this is your best friend, just hug him and talk it out. You don’t know what to do.

You say Seonghwa’s name so softly, just a wisp of a thing against the boiling emotions that are brimming to the surface inside him. “Why do you have some of my things under your bathroom sink?”

Seonghwa recoils, eyes widening in surprise. Your brain tells you to push past him, take this chance and run. But your feet don’t listen. Even now, you want to hear him out. You’re desperate to prove this all some fucked up misunderstanding.

You keep going. “That bracelet. From the night of the festival. And my….my underwear. Why do you have those things? My date calls me, says his car got trashed and that it looks like an axe was taken to the sides and then you’re scurrying around when I knock, hide an axe under a towel. Where were you earlier? Seonghwa, where were you earlier? Why do you have those things? Tell me. If you don’t want me to walk out of here, tell me. If you don’t want to fuck up the friendship, tell me.”

He tilts his face away from you, eyes glassy, looking at nothing. He’s grinding his teeth, something else you’ve never seen him do. Seonghwa’s profile is striking but no longer comforting. When he looks back at you, your lower back nudges into the night table and your hands grip the edge, staring at him.

“I want to fuck up the friendship. I’ve always wanted to fuck up the friendship,” He declares.

You shake your head. “You don’t mean that. That’s not how things are with us –”

“That’s always been how things are with us!” He shouts suddenly, loud enough to make you flinch.

“No! No, Seonghwa, that isn’t true –”

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” His eyes are alive now, twisted, no longer blank but not belonging to him either. He’s so close to you now, dangerously so. The warmth of his body is seeping into yours. The rage is swimming off him, strong enough to knock you over. You have never seen Seonghwa so angry before…and certainly never at you.

“I’m not, I’m not lying,” You plead, wanting to touch him but too afraid of making things worse, “I’m not lying. I was just – I was just trying to understand. The box under the sink and the axe…”

“You’re a smart girl, stop pretending like you don’t know,” Seonghwa growls out, “You know why I have those things under the sink.”

“The bracelet –”

Seonghwa is bristling with an intense energy as he replies, “From the festival night! See, you remember. You knew immediately where it was from. It slipped off your wrist when you were at one of the games, landed in the dirt. I took it. I took it because that was the night I thought ‘maybe’. I thought maybe you’d realize how badly I wanted you. And I think you did realize it. But you looked the other way. I love you but fucking hell, you look the other way when anything might change. But I’m patient. I can wait. I can take care of things and I can wait.”

I love you he had said, so effortlessly, so easily. The air is knocked out of your lungs by his casual admission. Seonghwa doesn’t seem to notice nor care he said it. He just stated it as though it was a fact, like the sun rising every morning. He runs his fingers through his hair, his brow furrowed in memories.

“The underwear, do I gotta explain that? Like I said, you’re smart. You know. I didn’t think you were coming home that night. I thought you were out, picked up by a guy or something. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I had shoved the underwear in my pocket before you got there and it just felt so damn good to be in your bed. Everything smelled like you and just…it was just a lot, you know?” His eyes land on you. “It was wrong to lie, tell you I was drunk. It was the fastest thing I could think of.”

“You lied to me?”

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa says seriously and you realize he believes lying about being drunk was the worst thing he did that night, not using your key or stealing your underwear.

“You’re – you’re sorry? You violated my boundaries, you slept in my bed, you stole my…and then you lied to me,” You reply aghast, “It’s like I don’t even know you, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa is starting to look anguished now. He goes to reach for you, thinks twice and drops his hands to his sides before taking a step back, carefully skirting around the axe. Then he stops, considering it before picking it up and tossing it onto the bed, making you flinch again.

“Don’t act like that,” Seonghwa says sternly, pointing to you, “Don’t do that. It’s me, alright? It’s me. You’ve known me since we were kids. I’m still the same person.”

You swallow hard, unable to reply.

He continues to talk, pacing the room. “Listen, for how long I’ve been in love with you, I think – I think I’m doing alright. I’ve never done anything bad to you. I have always had your back. That one asshole back in college – that professor. The science one. Remember? I made sure to stop that shit before it got out of hand. He was out of bounds asking you out. That’s wrong. You’re a – you’re a student.”

The floor is unsteady underneath your feet. You’re staring at Seonghwa as he paces, wondering if you’re going to faint. “That was you? He couldn’t even come back to work after that. He needed physical therapy. His legs…”

“Okay, in my defense,” He holds out one hand to ward off your criticism, “In my defense, I didn’t realize until later I maybe shouldn’t have brought the bat down so hard.”

Your eyes fall to the axe. You’re almost afraid to ask.

But Seonghwa follows your gaze and he immediately makes a noise of protest. “I didn’t lay a hand on that guy.”

“But…but his car…”

“So what? It’s a car. Which he thought was more important than you seeing that he cancelled the date, by the way,” He is talking so quickly that it is hard to follow his words, “You gave me so much information about him and this idiot – I mean, he’s a real idiot, alright? He had so much public information about himself. I found his address in like, two minutes. I mean, this is not the sort of guy you want to be with. He’s too stupid for you.”

You’re feeling dazed now like you got hit with the axe instead of the client’s car. “How did you not get caught?”

“He doesn’t live in the city. Lives in the suburbs, some big fancy ugly house with a private garage. Slipped in, slipped out.” A thought strikes him and Seonghwa moves towards you, holding his hands out to calm you down as if you’re a scared deer. “But I didn’t hurt him. I wasn’t going to hurt him. You seemed to really like the moron. I just wanted to see how badly he wanted to go on a date with you. If his material items were more important than seeing you.”

Thunderstruck, you reply, “Seonghwa, you trashed his fucking car.”

He scurries over, extremely close to you once again. He looks so warm and inviting again, earnest as ever as he goes, “And he picked it over you. He isn’t a good fit for you. Not like me. You get it? Not like me.”

You can only stare at him, unable to reply. Too much is happening. There is too much new information occurring at once. And the way Seonghwa is standing there, looking so open and honest – the polar opposite of earlier when he came into the bedroom, is making things confusing.

Seonghwa tilts his head to the side, his voice a soft murmur while studying your face. “Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve protected you from is because I love you. I’ve always loved you. The entire reason I exist is to love you. I’d follow you to the end of the earth. I’d follow you into hell. Some part of you had to know that. You felt it, didn’t you?”

Your breathing is quick and shallow. You’re grateful for the barrier of the hoodie because you’re acutely aware of how close you are to your best friend. You’re thinking about him moving to the city, and then into your building. You’re thinking of all the various strange occurrences you tried to steadfastly ignore – people getting injured after upsetting you, job interviews that felt horrible only for them to offer you a position, Seonghwa up all hours of the night on his computer looking exhausted and claiming it was just work, the beleaguered quick expression on his face whenever you mentioned him going on a date…

Seonghwa makes a small noise in the back of his throat. “You’re scared. It’s okay. You never liked change and you were never good with your feelings.”

You squeeze your eyes closed while saying, “I thought you’d think I was smitten with him. That you’d…you’d drop this. And we could go back to normal. I didn’t think you’d…”

“Go back to normal?” He scoffs, “What is normal for you? Ignoring what is right in front of you?” Very slowly and carefully, he brings the back of his hand to your cheek, gently brushing it along your skin. The touch makes your heart thud violently in your chest. Seonghwa looks at you tenderly. “I would be so good to you. I’m a perfect fit for you.”

“Seonghwa…” You aren’t sure if his name is a curse, a prayer or just a whimpered plea to let things stay the same.

He is close enough to your body now that you know what is going to happen next. You should push him away, get out of here and call the police on him.

But you don’t.

Instead, you allow Seonghwa to kiss you.

Your mouth opens underneath his, tasting your best friend in a way that is entirely new. The sensation of his lips on yours is dizzying in the most twisted way possible. Seonghwa’s hand goes to the back of your neck as the kiss grows more intense. His tongue is in your mouth and he makes a tiny noise – like some small bit of him is finally finding relief. You aren’t even sure if you’re breathing, too swept up by the mind-bending things that have occurred in the last ten minutes. As the kiss deepens, you tilt your head to the side, your tongue against his now.

There is a small voice in the back of your head quietly asking you what the fuck are you doing? Not only is this Seonghwa of all people but he’s obviously mentally unstable. But there is a heat swooping through your body and there is a need cracking through something inside you that is made worse by the fact you’re thinking about how he’s always had your back since first meeting.

Your hand is gripping the bottom of his t-shirt. You aren’t sure whose ragged breathing you’re hearing but certainly it cannot be yours because you must’ve died ten minutes ago. That’s the only logical explanation for why you’re now desperately kissing Seonghwa; it just simply couldn’t be happening like this.

The heat is unspooling in your chest now, dropping to your thighs. Seonghwa makes another quiet noise while kissing you, so fragile yet tense, and it is in that noise that the desire and fear smash together and overwhelm you.

You push him away with a small gasp, wiggling free from the confined space and placing your hand against the wall to steady yourself.

“I can’t,” You gasp out – although is directed to you or your best friend?

Looking over your shoulder at Seonghwa, he’s staring at you with blown out pupils while his chest rises and falls rapidly.

“You can’t what?” He drawls coldly, “You can’t what?”

You shake your head while saying, “I should be calling the police on you. You’ve hurt people. You’ve damaged people’s property.”

“Oh, please!” His mood shifts quickly again, his tone hostile. He approaches you, so close again, enough to see that his lips are slightly wet from the kissing. “Stop pretending. Stop pretending you don’t feel it.”

But it’s too much – all of it. You shake your head, afraid of…of what? Seonghwa? No, something else. Something worse.

You’re afraid of yourself.

“I can’t – I have to go,” You say, pushing past him, “I can’t do this.”

In all your years of friendship with him, you’ve never run out of his apartment. There has never been any reason to. But you leave Seonghwa in his bedroom with the axe on the bed, quickly scampering down the hallway. You cast a glance over your shoulder to see if he is following.

But he isn’t.

And you’re not sure how you feel.

There is no sleep that night, only replaying the entirety of your friendship with Seonghwa like a horrible movie in your mind. You try picturing him taking the bat to that teacher’s legs but it is an impossible thing to imagine. You wonder what else he’s done. He’s been off, slinking around in the night, breaking into your apartment, sleeping in your sheets.

You roll onto your side, staring at the edge of your bed. What is Seonghwa doing right now? Is he thinking of you? Most likely, since it has become clear that all he thinks about is you. He isn’t a good fit for you. Not like me. You get it? Not like me. His confession bangs around in your brain, refusing to give you any peace.

You’re back at the festival, watching him win you the stuffed animal. Seonghwa’s head is cocked to the side as he thrusts the stuffed animal towards you, grinning. You try to refuse it at first but he shakes his head, saying he has no use for it. His hair is softly glowing against the lights. His fingers brush against your wrist while accepting the gift. You feel a sense of contentment knowing you’re here with him and not crying in your room alone.

What happened the next day? Your ex’s dorm room goes up in flames due to an unattended candle left burning. You remember laughing about karma with Seonghwa.

But it wasn’t karma.

Unless Seonghwa is your karma.

Your brain circles to the one thing you’ve been trying the most not to think about: the kiss. It is something you’ve never ever considered. Kissing Seonghwa had always been something firmly planted in the realm of impossibility. Anyone of sound mind would have called the police on him, and what did you do? You kissed him.

And even worse, something that you can only admit in the dead of night when the world is still and quiet: you liked it. You enjoyed the small noises of relief Seonghwa made, how hot his body temperature ran, how his t-shirt was gripped in your hand. You enjoyed his desperation. You enjoyed his dedication.

What the fuck did that say about you?

You’ve never gone this long without hearing from Seonghwa. It’s been four days and you keep expecting him to show up. You think he might even be waiting in your apartment every time you come home from work. You almost wish he was. But he isn’t. His silence is throwing you off.

Maybe Seonghwa is going to skip town, you think in the silence of your bedroom one night. He might think I’m going to turn him in and he’s trying to get ahead of it. The idea of Seonghwa vanishing is eating you up inside. You just want to talk to him.

But now you feel like the stalker, taking the elevator one floor down to his place with his apartment key in your hand. Even if Seonghwa ignores me, I’m gonna go inside, you think, if he can do it to me, I can do it to him. I just want to talk to him. Your mind is flickering to the kiss. You’re thinking about staying up late with him watching movies over the years. You’re remembering how he stopped going to the coffee shop where that woman was interested in him. You can taste him in your mouth.

At the front door of his apartment, you knock. Softly at first. No reply. You knock again. You stand there, debating what to do. The key is heavy in your hand.

What Seonghwa has done is wrong. It’s not just illegal, it’s fucked up.

But no one in your life has ever looked out for you in the way he did and continues to do.

His hair, wet, dripping onto the tile in the kitchen. His right hand flexing. The blank look in his eyes. The axe on the bed.

Still no answer.

The key is heavy in the lock, and the tumblers sound like gunshots as you turn it. Quietly, you push open the door and creep inside Seonghwa’s apartment. There aren’t any lights on. Silence settles across the place like a blanket. You shut the door softly, wondering why you’re doing this.

But still, you continue, creeping down the hallway towards his bedroom. The door is open and moonlight filters in through his bedroom window, leaving a small band of white along the hallway floor. You hover outside Seonghwa’s room before pushing the door open wider to allow yourself in.

He’s sprawled out on the bed, asleep. You stand next to it, looking at the way the moonlight lays across his face. His black hair is messy, lips parted slightly as his breathing goes slow and deep. Some logical part of you knows it is bizarre to be watching your best friend sleep like this after using his key. You’re not any better than he is when you act like this, it scolds you.

But you study Seonghwa’s face. The moonlight washes his skin out. His bone structure is so familiar to you but tonight, you’re thinking that once again he looks like someone scrambled his face up with a large brush and showed you it.

You raise your hand to reach for his shoulder. You’re going to wake him up. To ask him…what? You’re not sure. You just want to talk to him.

But before you can touch him, Seonghwa’s hand reaches out in a flash and grabs your wrist, his eyes startingly empty. You gasp in surprise and almost fall back but he is holding onto you too tightly.

“You’re creeping around my place again. I might start getting the wrong idea,” Seonghwa’s voice sounds taunting, almost venomous, “I might start thinking you want to fuck me.”

You’ve never heard him speak like that.

“I wanted to talk,” You reply but the words sound so absurd given you used his key and were watching him sleep.

“No, you didn’t,” He retorts.

No, you didn’t.

Seonghwa pulls you down and you kiss him again, open mouthed and desperate. You gasp from the force of his lips on yours as though he wants to devour you. He’s half sitting up, his hand on the back of your neck, and you’re getting in his lap now, straddling him as his tongue slips into your mouth. He bites down on your bottom lip, tugging it with his teeth until you make a noise and the kiss breaks.

His hands are cupping your cheeks. Seonghwa is looking at you almost deliriously. You hadn’t changed before coming over, just wearing a thin pair of sweatpants which means you can feel him stiff in his own pair, rock hard already, pressing against your thigh.

It’s you who speaks first.

“Why didn’t you talk to me the last few days?” It sounds almost plaintive.

He’s studying your face as his thumbs graze your cheeks. “I was waiting for you to either turn me in or come see me. Whatever ended up happening, I knew what it would mean.”

Breathlessly, you reply, “I wasn’t going to call the cops.”

His thumb is running over your lips. Seonghwa is looking at you mesmerized as if he has never seen something so wonderful as you in his lap. No one has ever looked at you in this way.

“Everything I did, I did because I love you,” His voice sounds like a raw wound, “Do you get that now?”

“I get it now,” You reply, knowing it’s wrong, knowing it’s fucked up, knowing you must have lost it.

His grip on your chin tightens ever so slightly as his eyes grow intense. “I was looking out for you from the moment we first met. I have always protected you. I’ve always made sure no one would harm you and if they did, I ensured they got what was coming to them. You deserve the best. You always have,” His voice is hurried, emotional, “I always have tried to give you the best because I love you.” His fingers dig into your skin. “Do you get that? Do you understand how much I love you? God, sometimes, you would look right through me and it felt like the entire world was ending. Like the ground was just shattering underneath my feet. But I never dreamt of leaving your side. I love you too much even if you didn’t feel the same. I told myself I would just protect you until I died.”

His voice is pure agony, a crackling and fizzling of the years that have gone by spilling out from in between his lips. “You looked at me with such fear the other day when you were in my room, staring at the axe. As if…as if I would ever hurt you. It’s so absurd. I would never do anything to you. Everything I do is because I love you.”

“Seonghwa,” You breathe out shakily, “Your hand…. it’s too tight…”

His eyes drop to the way he’s gripping your face and he releases his hand immediately, apologizing. Your head is swimming, torn between the logical mind telling you to leave and your irrational heart pulled by his words, his love, his promises and protection.

But he feels so good underneath you.

Your lips find his once more and whatever remains of Seonghwa’s speech dies in his mouth, lost in the groan he emits when you touch him again. He shifts slightly so that his leg is pressing against your pussy and you react by grinding down slightly on his knee, just enough to feel pressure against your clit. Your breath hitches as Seonghwa’s hands roam across your body – fondling your tits through your shirt, down across your hips before resting on your waist, pushing you down on his knee.

He’s kissing and biting your neck, hard enough to leave marks. Your hands are in his hair while you grind on his knee. At one point, he bites so hard that you gasp and you swear that he chuckles quietly. Seonghwa pulls away, looking at you with an expression of mingled lust and something more possessive.

“You’ll have to cover that up for your date.” His words are like stone but there is a flicker of toying amusement behind his eyes.

“What date?” You mumble, slightly dazed, too turned on by the way he’s touching you.

Seonghwa laughs, his teeth like daggers in the flash of moonlight before pulling you towards him. His kiss is greedy, one hand sliding under your t-shirt to cup your breast. You’re not wearing a bra, having come over here quickly without putting much thought into it. You can feel him smirk against your lips, as if the lack of one is telling him something you’re not privy to.

He pinches one of your nipples, making you jump. His other hand is on your lower back, steadying you on his knee as you continue to chase your orgasm. It’s evident Seonghwa isn’t going to try to stop you. He leans his head down, tugging your shirt up so that he can wrap his lips around your nipple, sucking on it hard. He switches to the other one, biting on it. You’re making soft noises, a cross between a plea and pleasure, dimly aware that to be doing this with Seonghwa means forever ruining the very friendship you were once so keen on saving. But maybe it never stood a chance. Maybe time just caught up with the dynamic.

When Seonghwa pulls away from your tits, he grabs the back of your head, forcing you to look at him while demanding, “I want to watch you cum. I want to see what you look like when you’re cumming. I’ve pictured it so many times in my head – no, don’t stop. Don’t slow down. There, good girl. Oh, do you like that? When I call you that? Is that gonna make you cum?”

You manage to nod even though his hold on you is tight. He looks different in the moonlight, different in the manner he’s openly staring at you without hiding his feelings. There’s an energy rolling off him that you’ve never felt before, something bubbling to the surface and spilling out – who he really is. Who he hid for so long. You feel like a small bug crawling into a Venus fly trap but you don’t want to turn away.

Your orgasm starts then, after Seonghwa calls you good girl in that voice of his that is dripping honey while hiding a dagger. You can’t believe that you just got off from grinding on your best friend’s knee but you barely have time to come down from the climax before he is slipping your shirt off over your head and tossing it to the side.

He’s groping your tits, rolling his thumbs across your nipples, in seemingly no hurry to fuck you. You thought the orgasm would bring clarity, give your mind release from the problematic thoughts you’ve been having about your messed up best friend and allow yourself to exit the situation.

But you feel no such thing. Instead, you find yourself removing his shirt as well before kissing him hungrily while your hands press against his chest. His arms wrap around your waist and in one swift motion, he has you against the pillows underneath him.

Seonghwa is hot to the touch, his skin almost feverish as your fingers trail down his shoulders and along his arms. He’s moving downwards, his tongue across your nipples, down your stomach, obscenely leaving a trail of his salvia until he reaches your sweatpants.

Hooking his thumbs into the band, he yanks them down, leaving you in just your underwear. He nudges your thighs apart, pressing one finger along your pussy.

“You’re soaking wet,” Seonghwa drawls, sounding both pleased and tormented, “Underwear is fucking glued to your pussy.”

There is something fucked up and thrilling hearing your best friend talk like this. Seonghwa has always been so nice, so thoughtful over the years. Even when he would discuss his dates, he never dove into any details that would come off disrespectful. But now, mask off, it’s evident he’s perverted and unhinged on top of being psychotic. So why do I like it so much?

Seonghwa abruptly grabs the sides of your underwear and rips it with his hands. There is a loud tearing of fabric, his eyes alight while doing so, and then you’re exposed to him. Instinctively, you squirm, trying to close your legs. But Seonghwa is faster and his hands are on your thighs, keeping you open in front of him. His eyes look upwards to meet yours.

“No, I want to see how wet your pussy is from me. No hiding now. I’ve daydreamed about tasting your sweet cunt for far too long.” He turns his gaze back downward, one finger against your wet slit. “God, look at how fucking good you look,” The desperation in his voice is obvious, “What a perfect pussy.”

Seonghwa leans forward and his tongue is in your hole with a pornographic slurping noise as he tastes you for the first time. His nose bumps against your clit as he buries his face in between your thighs, trying to get his tongue as far as possible inside you.

“Fuck,” His words are muffled, “You taste so fucking good. You taste exactly how I knew you would. Can’t believe it took this long to taste your sweet cunt,” His hold on your thighs tightens, “Drives me fucking crazy knowing others had it before me. They didn’t deserve it.”

His tongue drags along your folds until he places a kiss on your clit, just enough to make you shiver. You know that you shouldn’t look down. It will make the entire situation feel entirely too real. But you don’t listen and instead prop yourself on your elbows slightly, just enough to look down at Seonghwa in between your legs.

His eyes catch yours and he lewdly flicks his tongue across your clit just to drive the point home that this is happening and you’re enjoying it. You sharply inhale, your hand grabbing onto the bedsheet. He closes his eyes, focusing on rolling his tongue over your clit slowly, just enough to drive you crazy. You cannot tear your gaze away from Seonghwa of all people doing this to you, making you feel this good. In the moonlight, his shoulders almost glow, and some of his hair has fallen in front of his eyes.

While Seonghwa is working your clit, he slips one finger inside your hole, meeting no resistance from how wet it is. You squirm, head rolling back a little from the new sensation. Still, he doesn’t miss a beat, continuing his soft licks on your clit while pumping his finger. Your eyes flutter closed. It had been a long time since someone ate your pussy this good. It is just fucked up that it’s your best friend.

Seonghwa pulls his finger out of you, eliciting a whine that would be embarrassing in any other case but he quietly shushes you. “Needy girl, you want my tongue back on your clit? Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

You look down at him, your cheeks warm. His eyes are devious, a smirk on his face, making his cheeks stand out more than usual as he shakes his head to get his hair out of his face.

You nod and he looks gravely serious. “No, tell me. I want to hear you tell me.” His voice is ice cold, allowing no argument. You’ve seen him this way a few times, always when he is angry and never at you. No, always at someone who did something mean to you though, the little voice whispers.

“I want your tongue back on my clit,” You say meekly because begging Seonghwa for such a thing is a foreign concept.

He stares at you for a second or two longer before suddenly spitting on your clit and smearing it in with his thumb. Your hips buck automatically from the sudden pleasure.

“You’re so sensitive,” He murmurs, “Gonna be so easy to make you cum again.” Seonghwa sounds lost in his daydreams and you cannot fathom how many times he’s thought about this.

His finger is back in your cunt and his tongue is flicking across your clit faster now. He adds a second digit, pumping them hard and fast, stopping occasionally to wiggle them deep inside you. His face is pressed against your pussy, sucking on your clit and sometimes stopping just to spit on it again. Seonghwa is groaning when he’s eating you out, as if he is driven to intoxication from the taste of you.

You can no longer prop yourself up on your elbows, instead sinking back down among the pillows. One of your hands reaches down for Seonghwa, his hair wrapping around your fingers as you desperately hold onto him so he doesn’t stop. He makes a noise of approval, fucking you harder with his fingers.

And it feels just too good and it feels even worse because it’s Seonghwa, the person you know the most and the person you don’t know at all. When your climax starts, his name leaves your lips broken and shattered, forever changed by what happened tonight.

When Seonghwa pulls away, his eyes are ablaze. You’re disoriented from cumming so hard two times already but he pulls you towards him. His lips crush yours in a sloppy kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue. When the kiss breaks, there’s a long strand of spit connecting the two of you. He’s holding the back of your neck again, looking at you as though you’re trapped in his web.

“Oh, my name sounds so good like that.” He rubs his thumb across your lips, and the spit makes a mess, “You’re such a pretty thing.”

You like the way Seonghwa talks to you as if you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. But you suppose to him, you are. You’re feeling an aching desire to have him inside you, to know what it would be like to be fucked by him. Tentatively, you reach for his groin, pressing your hand against the tent. He inhales sharply but gives a firm shake of his head.

“Not yet,” He brushes your hand away, “You’re going to cum again.”

Surprised, you open your mouth to say something but before you can, he places two fingers on your tongue. Without questioning it, you wrap your lips around them and then immediately wonder why you didn’t even hesitate. You swirl your tongue around his fingers while he watches, entranced at the sight.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. I can’t get enough of you. Now, sit on my face.”

Seonghwa pulls his fingers out of your mouth, snapping his fingers at you after he issued his command. You’re not even thinking anymore, lost completely to whatever pull you feel towards him and the promises of more pleasure. He’s on his back, motioning for you to hurry up. You try to carefully straddle his face but he makes a noise of impatience, reaching upwards to grab your hips and yanking you down so that your pussy is against his face.

His tongue dives into your hole and you make a noise of surprise, gripping the headboard of his bed. He’s eating your pussy like a man starved, not stopping to let you adjust at all. His hands are holding onto your hips, keeping you in place as he brings his tongue swooping up to your clit, swirling around it. This time is a lot more urgent as though it is more for him than you.

The sounds of Seonghwa eating your pussy sounds graphic but it is the way he is moaning while doing it that is turning you on. You like how he sounds, so desperate and his voice muffled, and when you move your hips gently against his face, he makes a noise to let you know to keep going.

So you do, grinding against his face. He moves his tongue back to your hole and you can feel his nose against your clit while rocking your hips. Your clit is growing sensitive from all the overstimulation and sometimes your hips bounce a little when it becomes too much. Seonghwa notices this and instead of giving you a break swoops his tongue back over your clit, flicking it hard and fast.

Your grip tightens on the headboard but you’re close to cumming again. Your thighs are shaking, panting with your tongue poking from in between your lips as you ride his face. With one last flick of his tongue, you moan out his name loudly, unable to stop from how much you’re working your pussy against his face. This orgasm is somehow even better than the earlier ones although it leaves your body shaking. You slide off him, falling onto the bed, trying to catch your breath.

Seonghwa sits up, kicking off his sweatpants. With relief, you realize he’s going to fuck you. You’re unsure that you could handle another orgasm again so soon after the others. Your head is dazed and thighs sore and you’re pretty sure that your pussy is a mess of your juices and Seonghwa’s spit.

He’s stroking his length, drinking in the sight of your naked body on his bed with the same fascination of someone viewing a beautiful painting. He shakes his hair out of his face again while getting to his knees, his hand still wrapped around his cock.

“You’re gonna cum around my cock next.”

You give a small shake of your head, out of breath. “I don’t think I can cum anymore.”

“Of course you can,” Seonghwa replies simply while positioning himself over your body.

His skin against yours is heavenly and hellish, weighted by the knowledge you’re tumbling into bed with your best friend who isn’t as stable as previously believed. But what does it say about you that it won’t leave your mind? He’s propped up over you, studying your face with such intensity that you break eye contact, feeling exposed. His cock is pressing at your entrance as your hands go to his sides, gingerly touching his hot skin.

Seonghwa lowers his face down to kiss you while sliding inside your wet entrance. You arch your back, fingers digging into his waist as he enters you easily. His lips are back on your neck, emitting a sigh that is a mingle of relief and tension all at once.

His words are muffled as he goes, “You feel so good. Your pussy is made for me. I was meant to be in this pussy every night.”

Seonghwa is curled around you, taking his time. He’s moving slowly, lost in the sensation of your walls tightening around his cock. Your hands glide upwards to his hair once again, bunching it in between your fingers as you wrap your legs around his waist.

When Seonghwa speaks again, he sounds lost, as if he isn’t even present in the moment. “I love you so much,” He grunts, going still for a second to collect himself before thrusting a little harder, “I love you so fucking much. I’d do anything for you, I’d do anything to be in your cunt like this. You just had to ask. But you never did.”

Your body is warm all over, each nerve in your body responding to his passion in a way that you didn’t think was possible. The voice in your head that has been pointing out how wrong it’s been all night is eerily silent. Instead, you tilt your head so that Seonghwa looks at you. Your foreheads are touching and when you speak, your lips graze his.

“Tell me what you’d do for me,” You plead softly.

His breath catches, his cock buried inside you to the hilt while he replies, “Anything. You know that. You already know some of what I’ve done. And I don’t regret any of it. I’d do it again,” He starts moving his hips faster now, plunging his length in and out of your soaking wet hole while his breathing grows laboured, “I’d do anything for you.”

The words make your head light. You’re moving your hips in time to his thrusts, tugging on his hair to let him know to keep going. Hearing your best friend make noises of pleasure, noises you’re not supposed to hear from him, is making you only desire more.

Seonghwa shifts positions, just enough so that your legs are bent back so he can hit your sweet spot with every jerk of his hips. Your hands fall to the bedsheets once more, digging into them as he fucks you.

“You look so fucking beautiful taking my cock,” He grunts and runs his hand through his hair quickly with one hand to get it out of his eyes.

The gesture, so familiar, one you’ve seen him do often, strikes you in the chest. His desperation is evident in his eyes, in his voice, in every action he’s taken since he grabbed your wrist earlier. This is still your best friend, the realization dawning, this is still Seonghwa.

You’re just seeing all aspects of him now.

You aren’t sure what compels you to reach for his hand but you do, sliding it up to your neck. His eyes light up at what you’re requesting, that shark’s grin returning so quickly that it sends a shiver down your spine. His hand tightens around your neck while he fucks you. The muscles on his arm tightens; he pushes you back against the pillows while fucking you hard and fast.

“I’d do anything for you,” He repeats, voice breaking, “I’d have done anything you ever wanted if you just asked.” The pleasure is overtaking him and his mind is wandering, jumping from topic to topic, telling you all the things he’s ever thought about. “Fuck, my hand around your neck…” He grips you harder and you make a small noise which only drives his cock harder in your hole. “You look like a ragdoll taking my dick with your lips parted like that. I watched you through your window last week. You looked so tired. I thought – fuck, I thought about my hands around your neck, choking you while I fucked you into oblivion so you could sleep.”

I watched you through your window last week.

The angle and his hand on your neck is bringing you to another climax which you didn’t think could be possible. You can barely breathe, can barely move your hips to meet his thrusts. You’re so close to finishing, watching how Seonghwa’s eyes never leave your face, how intensely he is staring at you, no expression on his face as he fucks you.

With the little air you have left, you ask the question again. “Tell me what you’d do for me.” The words are so soft that you aren’t sure anyone else but Seonghwa could have heard them – he’s just too in tune with you.

“I’d fucking kill for you.”

And you’re cumming on his cock then. Seonghwa releases his grip on your neck so he can hear your hoarse moans. He hasn’t stopped fucking you, moving his hips the entire time you’re orgasming. You keep saying his name, your hips moving to meet his thrusts, making more noise than you ever have before.

Seonghwa pulls out, wiping the sweat from his brow before leaning forward, grabbing your face and going, “Open your mouth.” You do immediately and he spits in your mouth lewdly before kissing you hungrily. When it ends, he says roughly, “I’m gonna cum in your cunt now. Get on your knees.”

Your body protests a little while doing so, tired and sore from cumming so much and being fucked so hard. But once your ass is in the air, Seonghwa’s hands are on your hips, pulling you back onto his cock. He doesn’t waste any time and you know he must be dying to finish. You’re not used to someone putting their pleasure last like this.

The change in angle feels so good and you moan, prompting Seonghwa to go, “You’re cock starved, I love it. I love hearing you want more of me.” His hands slide to your lower back. “I love hearing you want me and none of those idiots you’ve wasted time on. All those fucking idiots. Made me sick.” He’s slamming his hips against your ass, his balls smacking against your pussy with each hurried thrust. “Makes me fucking sick to think of them touching you instead of me. They never deserved you. They never understood you, not like I did.”

You’re sinking into the bed, the weight of his hands on your lower back giving you no choice, your ass high in the air now as Seonghwa fucks you mercilessly. His voice is slurring at the edges, his words hazy like small things being tugged towards the light for the first time.

“I knew they couldn’t fuck you like I could or take care of you like I could. Just idiots, circling around you and I tried so hard to be nice. I wanted to be nice to those idiots because of you. Everything I do is because of you because I love you so much. F-fuck,” He does a particularly hard thrust and groans, “I wasn’t perfect. I knew I was doing bad things. Getting them fired from jobs. Snooping through their emails. Slashing their tires. I knew –” His breath caught, and his hands move to your ass, gripping it hard enough to leave marks. “I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t help myself. I was in love with you for so long and sometimes it’s enough to drive a man crazy.”

Seonghwa is fucking you so hard that you can’t even move. You lay against the bed, taking his cock, your eyes almost rolling into the back of your head from how it good it is. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. The way he’s fucking you combined with his speech is making your head utterly blank – it just feels so good. All of it feels so good. You think your tongue might be poking out from between your lips. All you know is he’s going to make you finish again.

“I’m gonna fuck you like this every night, I’m gonna – fuck. I’m gonna take care of you and I’m going to fuck you and no one is ever going to bother you again because you’re mine now. Tell me you’re mine, I want to hear you tell me.”

Using the last of your energy, you moan out, “I’m yours, I belong to you, I’m yours.”

Seonghwa grunts, giving one last thrust while going, “Now take my load in that sweet cunt of yours.”

His cum is warm in your cunt as he empties his balls, filling you up until it’s leaking out of your hole. You’re finishing again as well, perfectly in sync with your best friend. You’ve fallen on the bed, making an unholy amount of noise from the intense orgasm, completely overstimulated. Seonghwa has pulled out of your cunt, leaving a long strand of cum along your lower back as he finishes.

Your eyes are closed, feeling completely fucked out. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth; you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. Seonghwa shifts behind you, sliding off the bed, leaving the room. A few moments later, he returns and you can feel a towel along your back, cleaning you up before he shifts, sliding closer to your body.

Seonghwa’s arms carefully wrap around you, pulling your body towards him. You curl up against his chest, eyes closing. He’s kissing the top of your head, his fingers trailing along your back in gentle touches. All his earlier energy is gone, depleted, and now he is soft and inviting.

You tilt your face to look at Seonghwa, reaching upwards to graze his jawline with your fingertips. He kisses them too. Would it be so wrong to have everything with him? To be so adored and loved with someone who has known you forever? His eyes are cutting through your defenses, nuzzling into the soft spot of your brain that should know better.

Your lips find his.

A cloud covers the moon.

You’re wearing just one of Seonghwa’s shirts, sitting on the edge of his bed in the morning light. He left twenty minutes ago to get coffee from your favourite spot, leaving you alone in his apartment.

You’re thinking about him.

You’re thinking about the soft kisses he gave you upon waking, his smile that you know so well, the way he looked shirtless in the morning light.

He had cupped your cheek, said he was going to get coffee and you felt a pang at him leaving, even for just a little while. Even just for twenty minutes.

Relief swoops through you when the front door opens, and Seonghwa calls your name. He comes down the hallway and stops in the doorway. His jacket is already removed, just wearing a hastily thrown on Star Wars t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He places one coffee cup on his dresser, running his fingers through his hair with his hand. He’s smiling, sitting down next to you.

“I missed you,” He admits bashfully, holding onto your coffee, his eyes dropping to your lap, “Should I keep it?”

Your hands are curled around the handle of the axe. You look at the blade; your reflection is distorted. He rests his chin on your shoulder, peering at you, waiting for your choice. Everything with Seonghwa is your choice because he loves you so much. He doesn’t question that you’ve been sitting in his bed, holding his axe, lost in thought.

You’ve been thinking about what is right, what’s wrong and what you want.

You kiss his forehead, and he makes a noise of contentment.

“You should keep it,” You declare, shifting the axe into his lap carefully. “Just in case.”

Seonghwa grins cheerfully.

“Yeah, just in case.”

the end.

#ateez fics #ateez smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fics #seonghwa smut #the heart's filthy lesson #kpop fic #100 notes #500 notes

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thefudge · 2 months

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Advice for writing smut???

gonna do bullet-points of things i tend to live by when it comes to smut (this is just my opinion):

don't switch styles: the way you write the smut has to be consistent with the way you write the rest of the story, so if your story is more comedic or romcom-y in nature, the way you write the smut should have those stylings. i personally find it very jarring when authors decide to break the format for the smut, almost like the story has to stop for the sex intermission; if you're writing a horror story, the smut must be informed and influenced by that genre, and if you are breaking genre for the smut portion, tell us why you're suddenly switching gears (it has to be an aesthetic choice you're making on purpose). likewise, if your style in that story is more lyrical, the smut has to be somewhat lyrical too, or if your story is more cormac mccarthy-esque-cut-and-dry, the smut can't suddenly involve an effluvia of purple, sappy prose. integrating the smut in the story and treating it like any other part of the story is key to me. too often i've seen ppl switch to this anonymous pornified style when they get to the smut

which brings me to specificity. i'll talk about het sex, since that's what i tend to write most: not all men are going to be fingering or eating pussy the same way, not all dicks are big and they shouldn't be, not all women immediately get excited by fingering, not everyone moans the same way or makes the same sounds. you're writing about particular characters so it has to be particular to them. i know this is very old advice, but i think it bears repeating

there isn't an exact formula or sequence you have to follow, there aren't precise steps, you don't have to go "well, first he has to kiss down her neck, then reach the boob area, then play with the nipples, then put the nipple in his mouth, then slowly go down on her, then prepare her for entering her etc. etc. etc." this can get boring and repetitive and you start thinking of your characters as these mechanical dolls who have to fuck for your audience. and that can be a vibe too, if you do it on purpose. but sometimes you can get stuck in a porn routine (and ofc, having only the guy show initiative can also get boring)

in order to break that, insert some character moments. what are the characters thinking during this? sometimes they might be thinking of something completely unrelated on the surface, but which has a thematic relevance that can make the scene hotter. likewise, maybe they're doing smth that seems unsexy on the surface, but which, within the context of the story might be really hot. sex doesn't just involve, well, sex, but so much weirdness and humanity and creativity. two bodies (usually) are trying to do this really awkward thing together and they might have a lot of baggage and history to inform it. there's a lot you can do with that.

don't make it glossy and clean, where everyone smells of strawberry shampoo and there is never anything out of sync. the most boring smut tends to be the kind where no one makes any mistakes and everything is super efficient. i imagine it feels like using an industrial pump to milk various farm animals.

and you know what? you can make that hot too. you CAN write a kind of robotic efficient smut and make it really interesting based on the context. let's say you're writing a 1984 AU fic where ppl are forced into intimacy only to procreate and their sex drive is diminished. you can play with that premise and lean into the dehumanizing industrialization of sex, but you have to mean it, aka your narratorial voice must be conscious of these factors.

if you're writing dubcon, make the dubious part present, make sure you draw out the ambivalence and ambiguity. if you're writing noncon, the character whose consent is being violated has to be transformed by this in some way. it can be forced pleasure, for instance, but not only. it has to be a journey for them too, some kind of spiritual pit, or a form of access to terrible knowledge. i know this is a personal thing, but noncon doesn't work for me if the character being noncon'd is just sort of *there*, suffering passively. i think that sort of dead passivity can be done very well too, but the narratorial voice has to persuade me.

that being said, don't be afraid of fear in consensual sex. terror and vulnerability are a part of consensual sex too, imo, and again, depending on the story and the characters, there's a lot you can explore there

i personally find it really hot when the narratorial voice starts discussing some of the ideas that the story wants to convey during the smut. so like, you can characterize person A and outline their worldview and their plans while they're ramming person B, and the thinking & fucking are thus entwined. idk, i dig that

speaking of which, smut can convey world-building details and social/philosophical ideas, not just emotions and character beats

not all smut has to end with mutual orgasm or even one-sided orgasm, it depends what you want to do or where you want to go. again, you don't have to follow a sequence. plus, it's fun (and hot) to write about frustration and failure too.

if you want to mix up the descriptions, resort to the story & characters. you'll find it's easier to describe someone fondling a boob in a new or at least interesting way if you're thinking about that particular character in that particular story, and not just Man X from planet porn (sorry to be snarky, but mainstream erotica is soooo guilty of this)

screaming & really intense reactions are cool but they have to match the characters and the situations

sometimes, it's hotter if an effect is mild or negated, if the usual outcome doesn't happen; mix up the order of events, toy with the usual reactions. it's not about being original, it's about finding out what works for your characters. writing about sex is, in a way, a performance of it, an attempt to go through the sexual motions, to find out what works and doesn't, to engage with the erotics of text (roland barthes entered the chat)

if you are bored by your own smut, that's a problem. i know we all talk about how hard we find writing smut, and IT IS hard, and sometimes it's not enjoyable, because writing itself is often not enjoyable, but even when it's painful and annoying, it gives you that little intellectual kick like "huh, i'm creating this and making these people do this, and ohh look, i can maybe put this unnamable thing into words". but if you become bored, that's a sign you have to look at the language & characters and figure out what's not working for you

last thing i'll underline: pay attention to your narratorial voice. in this ordeal, you are the seducer. not the characters. you have to seduce us with words and context. your voice matters the most. you can persuade us of anything. but you have to be confident in your weirdness and particularity. this is your bedroom (so to speak), so invite us in.

#writing #smut tips #writing advice #smut #my thoughts #replies

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deconstructthesoup · 5 months

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I think the reason that Dimension 20 really scratches all those itches in my brain is that it really shows what you can do with D&D---and TTRPGs as a whole.

Fantasy High, by itself, is an incredibly compelling concept. What would D&D look like in a semi-modern setting? What would a high school that's all about teaching teens how to be adventurers look like? And the way it's done is beyond inventive, especially if you look at all the encounters in the first season---we've got a literal food fight, a high-speed road chase with tiefling greasers, a nightclub brawl with zombies, vampires, and werewolves, a skating match with a bunch of dwarven middle schoolers and a concrete golem, a high-stakes game of football (ish) with undead jocks that give off major teen slasher vibes, a fight done in an arcade where characters can get trapped in the consoles, and the final battle is done at prom. PROM! How cool is that?

And then we get to the Unsleeping City, which takes the urban fantasy elements that Fantasy High already had and elevates it. The way the D&D lore and magic is interpreted in a modern New York setting is excellent, as is the whole take on the "American Dream," magic literally coming from dreams, ideas, and the imagination. I know that I need to actually finish the UC saga, but from what I've seen and experienced, it is truly fantastic.

And the same energy carries through to the other seasons---my personal favorite outside of Fantasy High being A Court of Fey and Flowers, just because I'm a sucker for any Fey Realm content and I've been raised on Jane Austen---where the genre mashups shine through in the best way possible. I'll admit, I haven't seen A Crown of Candy, purely because I know how heartbreaking and devastating it is and I don't think I can physically handle it, but the concept of Candyland Game of Thrones is so beautifully bizarre that I totally get why people love it so much. Escape from the Bloodkeep hitting that workplace comedy vibe that we love to see in villains. Misfits & Magic being a love letter to the "magical boarding school" genre while also calling out all the weird contradictions inherent in it. A Starstruck Odyssey literally being an homage to Brennan's mom and exactly the kind of madcap and unhinged energy I need from my sci-fi. Neverafter perfectly encapsulating the true horror of fairy tales. Mentopolis hitting my noir-loving heart and personifying hyperfixation in the best way possible.

I'm not even kidding when I say that, if it weren't for Dimension 20... I probably wouldn't have even started my own campaign. I'd had snippets and ideas ever since officially getting into D&D and joining a game with some old friends (and getting back in touch with them in the process), but after I saw the Mentopolis trailer, I realized just how much variety TTRGPs had to offer. I could do a time-blending, history-meets-future campaign. I could go out-of-the-box. I could have endless amounts of options available to my friends and still tell the story that I wanted to tell. And when I sat down and watched Fantasy High---and when I got that Dropout subscription so I could consume whatever I wanted---it felt like the show was actually giving me advice. It's fantastic.

Also it helps that the episodes are usually only roughly a couple hours instead of being, like, an entire afternoon long. And that each season is 20 episodes, tops. No offense to Critical Role, but the sheer amount of content literally makes it impossible for me to get into it.

#dimension 20 #dropout tv #fantasy high #the unsleeping city #a court of fey and flowers #a crown of candy #a starstruck odyssey #neverafter #mentopolis #i just love this show so much you guys

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 2 months

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Dark Moon | Chapter Two

Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 3,7k

Warnings | +18, explicit language, kidnapping, yandere, mentions of prostitution, Jimin is really a bastard, harassments, threats with a gun, forced vaginal inspection, humiliation and teasing, light blood consumption, virgin girls are sold, forced separation

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.

And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.

That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.

He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! The second chapter of Dark Moon has arrived, thank you for all the compliments and support ❤

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie, @seokjins-luigi, @pjmsneverland, @jimincrystal

Taglist is open!

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When Y/N regained consciousness she felt her head spin and something go up her stomach, she was nauseous as well as very cold, even her leg did not seem to be in optimal condition. A white light filtered past her eyelashes, forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut before groaning, trying, in vain, to move. She turned wearily on her side, realizing only then that she was lying on an icy floor. "The mare has awakened," said a voice with a deep cadence. The girl tried wearily to at least get on her knees, but failed to do so; her head was assailed by memories of a few hours ago, they were confused, but one thing she distinctly remembered. A face. A male face full of piercings, of cruel extraordinary beauty. "You better not move a step, you have a gun pointed at your head, baby doll," said another voice, higher and smoother. As her eyes adjusted to the light she focused on the gun in question, clutched in the gloved hand of the same man she remembered. His face was as beautiful as a god's, he had piercings on his lower lip, as well as on his eyebrow and all along the side line of his neck, stretching all the way under his leather coat. His dark hair, on the other hand, was combed so that his forehead was left uncovered, his amphibians also stood tall and menacing, just like the rest of him.

He held that gun with monstrous ease, his stoic expression telling her that he would not think twice about shooting her if he had to. She licked her lips, finding them dry and cracked, before she began to speak. "What do you want from me? I have nothing to interest you," she said in a scratchy voice, hugging her legs in a vain attempt to shield herself from his eyes. "You are quite wrong, dear," the other stepped forward, he was taller than the man with the piercings and his hair was silver, yet the hardness of his eyes was the same, "You have made a request and we are here to fulfill it." The young woman frowned, before the realization finally came. "Now you remember, right? You asked to work for us, in fact ... you both asked." The young woman widened her eyes and immediately remembered her younger sister, looked around in panic noticing the smaller body far away from her. She tried to get up to reach her, but the sound of a trigger froze her. "I told you not to take a step, I might blow your leg off, but that would not please my boss, so let's avoid giving each other trouble," huffed the dark-haired man, he was ruthless. She began to tremble, realizing the trouble she and her sister had gotten themselves into.

They had applied to work everywhere from small bars to supermarkets, not leaving out discos and more domestic jobs. But there was no work, or the pay was starvation. Finally she had made the leap, finding herself applying for jobs in a variety of red-light clubs, and before she could say or do anything, her sister had also followed suit, but she didn't think it would end like that for them. "We never received any recruitment letters or emails, so what are you talking about?" she hissed through clenched teeth. The taller one looked at her sideways, "The Dark Moon is not used to hiring the way you imagine, sweetheart...to fit into its standards you have to possess certain qualities and you two have all of them." If possible that answer left her even more confused, the dark-haired man with the piercings huffed, "Boobs and three holes to fill are not enough, once you enter the Dark Moon you never leave, those who "win" our attention do so because they live far away from their family and with a low lifestyle," he explained vulgarly, heedless of the increasingly evident pallor on the young woman's face. Everything was clear now, one of the brothels to which she had sent her application was much more than that, there was a highly illegal prostitution ring behind it, involving the total disappearance of girls from the rest of the world. The menacing appearance of the two men spoke volumes.

What had they gotten themselves into? "Wait a minute, ours was a request made without thinking" she tried to negotiate, but the grin on the pierced boy's face grew. Jimin was amused, did the poor deluded woman really believe that there was any way back? He shook his head, "Without thinking? You ran away from home because of an abusive family, dropping out of school and cleaning here and there to earn enough to afford a low Motel in the lowest neighborhood in town...it doesn't seem to me that you applied without thinking, in fact, it was desperation that convinced you and you even got bingo," he chuckled nastily. The girl cashed the blow, bending over herself; there was no remedy. She had been kidnapped and a madman was pointing a gun at her with impressive ease, the other man would probably hurt her sister if she decided to challenge them. She felt like crying, but she pushed back her tears; she would not let them see her whimpering like a child. After a few seconds a choked sigh was heard, Y/N opened her eyes again with fear. She turned toward her sister, who terrified looked at her with a lost and confused look. "What...? Y/N, what's going on?" she asked with some difficulty due to the drug used on her.

"Blair, stay there!" she exclaimed, but her sister tried to get up anyway, and the taller guy had to intervene, pushing the younger one against the concrete wall without any kindness, pulled the gun out of his jacket, and Y/N felt herself dying, yelled at him to leave her alone, pushing herself toward them, but a heavy kick to the leg stopped her actions. She groaned in pain, staring at the piercing guy's boot pressing right against her thigh, there where a purplish bruise had already taken shape from the violent sting. "Ha-ha! You're such a naughty little girl, you know? Lucky for you that wasn't a step, because otherwise I would have had to use this," he said in a childish tone, teasing her by moving the barrel of his gun left and right. Y/N swallowed hard, chewing between her teeth the pain she so badly wanted to vent, that boy was scary to her, there was a veil of madness behind his dark eyes. She did not want to find out how far she could push him, that madness. Namjoon, on the other hand, went no further with her sister, just put her back in her place. She resumed breathing as the man moved away from her, but a knock on the door made her stomach flip over. The two men exchanged a brief glance; it was Jimin who opened it without lowering his gun.

Y/N saw three other men enter the building, one of whom towered prominently over the others. He wore a gorgeous fur coat over his smoking, and his incredibly handsome face was obscured by an apathetic expression. The other two, on the other hand, were dressed quite similarly to those who had taken her hostage; they, too, were beautiful and surreally dangerous. "Are there only two of them?" the man in the fur coat asked, pointing at her and her sister. "They are the only ones who passed all the requirements, they are also quite pretty, Jin," shrugged the man the girl had labeled "The Tall One." The Jin in question squared them carefully, Y/N felt naked under his gaze and wished she could hug her sister to protect her from them, but she could not. She would be of no use to her dead. "What are their names?" "Byeon Y/N and Byeon Blair, they are sisters, they used this surname in the application, definitely not the right one...as you can see, they are not Korean." "Good job, Namjoon... As for their status?"

The girl didn't know how they could know all that, because it was true, they had changed their last name so that they didn't have to be related to their father and his family, but what made her cringe was the word "status," underlined in a strange way. The one she seemed to understand was called Namjoon remained silent a few seconds, then shook his head, "We haven't checked." "No problem, we'll do it now," he moved a finger toward the other two, "Taehyung, Hoseok," he said, but the pierced boy got in the way. "Leave this one to me," he said, intriguing Seokjin. "Why, Jimin? You usually avoid by saying it's too hard to handle them." Now she knew the name of that devil, but still not understanding what they intended to check, something told her she would not like to find out, she exchanged a glance with her sister. She saw her as frightened as she had ever been in her life, and it certainly should not have helped to see her, her older sister, in the same condition, so she tried to calm her expression, though with little result. "I have a score to settle with her," she said earnestly, it was then that Y/N remembered the kick thrown at the man's face in her fury to escape him, but she couldn't see any bruises so it must not have hurt him that much, right? The other nodded, "All right."

Next she saw the man named Hoseok heading toward her sister, who pushed herself against the wall trying to escape, but she was surrounded by men with guns and could do nothing. Y/N sprinted toward her, but Jimin was quick to grab her by the collar of her shirt. "Be still and quiet, behave yourself and it will only last a few seconds." But she did not understand, what would last only a few seconds? She blanched at the younger one's shocked screams, turned quickly toward her, and what she saw left her bewildered. The red-haired man, Hoseok, was holding Blair's body crushed to the ground while he did something with his hand under the fabric of her shorts, the insight made her shudder and she threw herself at her once more, heedless of Jimin's firm grip, who gritted his teeth at such stupidity. "What the fuck are you doing to her, you bastard! Let her go immediately, before I kill you!" she snarled bright-eyed, aware that as her sister kicked trying to get the man off her, she could only watch with no chance to react. A laugh behind her back made her skin crawl. "He's doing just that to her," she heard him say, before she was pinned to the wall hard, missing her breath for a few moments, time for Jimin to imprison her wrists in one of his hands, reaching with the other to the fabric of her underpants, which he went over, ending right under her panties.

In horror the girl felt the fingers still wrapped in the leather glove tracing her folds and without any care penetrating her tight slit, she cried out in pain and shock, the fingers went all the way, finding nothing to stop them, but Jimin wanted to provoke her a little. "You're so dry that if I continued you would bleed, wouldn't you? Like a virgin, too bad you're not," he whispered in her ear. The young woman, red with shame, overcame her shock and tried to kick him in the groin where an obvious bulge was taking shape, but Jimin ducked in time, stared at her with icy eyes before stepping firmly out of her intimacy, causing her another painful twinge. He let her fall back to the ground observing his fingers, only a few drops glistened on their surface, nothing striking. "She's tight as hell, but she's not a virgin," he communicated to the others in an impassive voice. Hoseok turned away from the youngest, who cowered in shock. "With this one I stopped pretty much right away, she's a virgin," he showed everyone a few drops of blood present on his fingers before licking them.

No one commented on that gesture, as if it was normal for them, Y/N just felt like throwing up, she clenched her legs trying to calm the burning that the bastard had intentionally caused her, god... if they were on equal terms she would have destroyed him. Seokjin nodded, "We'll make a lot of money with that one, I already have an interested customer." Y/N widened her eyes, rising up sharply. "At least let my sister go! She is young and unfit for such a life!" she exclaimed, staring into the eyes of what appeared to be the boss. Taehyung laughed, "Then why did she apply for such a job? Besides, what would she be different from you, is she a princess or something? Come on, we are fair and consistent people we, it wouldn't be fair to you," he teased her, ignoring Blair's sobs, still hunched over herself because of the pain she was feeling. Hoseok did not seem to have gone easy on her, as he had said. "Miss Byeon, the Dark Moon is a place that lives in anonymity, our clients are important people who want to spend moments of pleasure in complete relaxation, I can't afford outside witnesses other than my men, that's exactly why we only pick up girls like you," he began to explain calmly, "Beautiful, but desperate, I offer them protection and comfort, as long as they abide by my rules." Simply put, 'You know too much, and since you've been brought in, you will do as I say'.

Y/N felt lost, there was no turning back, she would be a whore without freedom until the end of her days, and her sister would follow her freewheeling. At that point, with another needle stuck in her flesh, tears flowed copiously without her being able to do anything to stop them.

Y/N regained consciousness in what was no longer a dingy warehouse, but lying on a soft bed with silk and velvet blankets. Smelling of essential oils and wearing a satin blouse, she widened her eyes, turning around. Next to her a girl was arranging some things in the sliding door closet. She was not paying attention to her. "I-where am I?" she asked in a low voice, the girl blocked her actions, then turned to her, glowering at her. "You should know, shouldn't you? You asked to work here yourself," she arrowed, Y/N looked at her shocked. Why had the woman answered her in that rude way? "I don't think I did anything to you to deserve such an attitude," she said in fact, the other rolled her eyes. "You newcomers are all like that, all naive holier-than-thou. You're at the Dark Moon, girl! Place of pleasure and sin, where you will open your legs without a single complaint and I recommend it for your own good," she blurted out, made to leave without adding more, but Y/N stopped her. "My sister! Have you seen my sister?" she ignored the scurvy attitude of that girl as beautiful as she was rude to ask about the younger one, the other looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Ah, yes...when you arrived they just asked me to get you ready for the room, but I heard about the other one.... She was a virgin, virgins are always sold and never stay at the Dark Moon.... so it was your sister, huh? I'm sorry," she sneered, before leaving the room. The world came crashing down on her, her sister was not there with her, she had been sold without ifs and buts, they had not even given her a chance to see her one last time. She clutched her chest, trapped in a painful grip, and let herself fall on the bed without energy, she merely sobbed for what seemed like hours. She had definitely lost her entire family and there was absolutely nothing she could do to change that. She was gone, Blair was no longer with her, and she would spend the rest of her life spreading her legs for any man with a sizeable bank account. With tears still clinging between her eyelashes she saw the door open once more, revealing the slender figure of another girl, wrapped in a pattern similar to her blouse, but much darker. "Hey. You're the newcomer, aren't you? Nice to meet you, my name is Hanon," she said jovially, waving her hand, Y/N remained impassive, too exhausted and bitter to be in the same mood as her.

"Y/N..." she mumbled back, shutting herself up. The woman was not impressed by that closed attitude; on the contrary, she found herself smiling more. That girl reminded her of herself at first. Almost no one wanted to end up trapped at the Dark Moon, but getting used to it wasn't so bad. They had food and beautiful clothes, as well as a roof over their heads. "Well, hello Y/N! Welcome to the Dark Moon, I was asked to show you around a bit," Hanon said cheerfully, Y/N instantly glowered at her. She didn't want to take the prostitute prison tour, she wanted to go back to the horrid old Motel with her sister, better poor than divided and slutty. "I don't care for that, thank you," she replied through gritted teeth. If possible Hanon's smile grew bigger, a strange light shone in her eyes. "Oh, believe me ... it's in your best interests to listen to me, Seokjin here is the boss and his word is law, if you don't do as he says you'll end up bathing in the icy waters of the Han River, with no chance of rising" from the satisfied voice Y/N guessed that it had already happened and that Hanon was probably someone quite important among the girls, he believed she had power over all of them, that's why she smiled like that. Without uttering another word, Y/N got out of bed, found some bedroom shoes placed neatly on the polished wooden floor, and putting them on followed the other woman.

Hanon showed her several rooms, numbered and with a key inside each shiny, well-oiled lock; almost all the rooms were the same, except for a few cases of far more luxurious suites suitable for clients quite important to the boss of the "shack." Hanon explained to her that the one where she was a few moments earlier was her personal room, no one had the right to enter there, and that every client had one of those other rooms rented for a set amount of time that varied from the fee paid for each type of service requested. Y/N felt disgust and nausea with each piece of information she learned, the customer paid and they automatically had to obey him. Hanon finally showed her their relaxation room; it was a large greenhouse where one could play freely and grow flowers and plants of all kinds. That was perhaps the only area Y/N would appreciate, she told herself. "From this corridor instead you get to the kitchens and the dining room, instead to ask for any kind of information you can ask me, if I will not be available go ahead to Namjoon's office, I will show you where it is" at that name the young woman felt sick. She remembered the silver-haired man, she had no idea he personally worked at the Dark Moon. "Namjoon?" she swallowed, Hanon stared at her for a moment confused by her sudden pallor, then understood. "So this time it was his turn, I guess it went well for you then, he is very kind to girls and-"

"Namjoon kidnapped my sister," she said harshly, "He was not kind to do such a thing, much less his friend with piercings all over his face, who was simply an animal with me," she growled. Hanon winced, he could tell she was talking about Jimin from the description-he was the only one of the men in Seokjin who had piercings all over his face, not to mention his neck. Those seven were divided into distinct and separate personalities, and Hanon knew for sure that the worst were Jimin and Hoseok themselves. "All right, for any doubts ask me, then," then she remembered something important, "Oh, I almost forgot the most essential thing! In case you need help during a session with your client, on the bedside table next to the bed there is a white phone, it has a unique number and communicates with the bodyguards, if you will be in trouble don't hesitate for a moment to call" she explained seriously. A shiver ran down the young woman's spine, she had not yet thought of such a possibility, she believed that with clients of a certain caliber something dangerous could not happen, evidently she was mistaken. When she was escorted back to her room, Y/N stopped Hanon. "Um... Hanon?" "Yes?"

"Before you came, there was a girl in the room with me, she was very rude and I would like to know why, I'm new and didn't give any trouble...I wish I could at least live peacefully here, though I doubt it." Hanon weighed the words well, but decided to be honest. "I told you we have personal rooms, but not as much as they are..." Y/N widened her eyes, "Your room belonged to Ester, the girl you met." "What... Why did you give me her room?" she asked wordlessly, Hanon shrugged her shoulders. "Well, only five other girls have the room like yours, these girls are selected by Seokjin's most trusted men because they are their favorites, and you are now one of them, indeed, of us." If possible, Y/N found herself more confused than before-what was Hanon getting at? The latter sighed, "Ester was Jimin's favorite, but I don't know how...now you're the one who will share a bed with him if he decides to stay here from time to time, when he arrived he didn't think twice about sending her away to give way to you, I think you intrigued him and quite a bit too." Y/N found herself staggering back, everything simply had to be an absurd and horrible joke, should she have shared a bed with such a beast? The disgust did not leave her for a moment longer.

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bethanydelleman · 6 months

Note

There’s a new book out called The Darcy Myth that says in the summary that P&P is actually a “horror novel” about how scary love is for women… I know the Bennet sisters’ situation is precarious but to call it a “horror novel” ? :P

Okay... so... ug.... did this woman even read Pride & Prejudice? Because from the news coverage I would say no. Let me highlight some passages from the article:

Darcy should be considered the main antagonist of the famous love story

Not Wickham? Not the man who runs off with literal teenage girls?

Darcy pays Wickham to marry Lydia, saving her reputation, and later tells Elizabeth, “I thought only of you” when acting. For Feder, this phrase is proof of the hero’s self-interest. Darcy condemns Lydia to a life with an amoral man, all so the Bennets don’t become so disreputable that he won’t be able to marry the woman he loves.

Um, sorry, but no. Darcy tried to get Lydia away FIRST, she refused, he respected Lydia's autonomy as a human being. Becoming brother-in-law to Wickham was probably worse for Darcy personally than Lydia being "ruined"

I found Feder’s exploration of “Pride and Prejudice”as a Gothic novel — rather than a comedy of manners — far more compelling than her critique of Darcy.

Wut? No. Not even a little bit, what? That is a different genre.

“Darcy helped codify the dominant expectation that potential romantic partners — especially heterosexual men — are not only still eligible but in fact more appealing when they play a little hard to get, even if playing hard to get involves cruelty, insults, expressions of disinterest, ruining your beloved sister’s chances of happiness, and other red flags,” she writes. Women spend their time, energy and emotions on men who, quite simply, are not worth their effort.

Okay, except ELIZABETH NEVER TRIES ANYTHING WITH DARCY. She just sits there and he falls in love with her. If she did put effort into any relationship it was with Wickham, who again, is presented as a massive red flag in the end. This line of argument is wild.

Yet, seeing the sheer number of times women pursue cruel men in pop culture laid out one after another — in Disney movies, Taylor Swift songs and much more — is affecting. Feder concludes convincingly that this cultural conviction harms women in the same way the patriarchal boundaries of the regency did. She writes: “If we zoom out, we see that the Darcy myth also helps to prop up and fortify a very Gothic, patriarchal universe that is, and always has been, scary for anyone who is not a very particular type of man. After all, if we are trained from childhood to invest ourselves in men who treat us poorly, aren’t we more likely to end up in abusive situations and under threat of assault?”

Okay, so this is a valid point, but it also is based on a misreading of Pride & Prejudice or is heavily influenced by adaptations. Darcy isn't cruel, he's snobby and somewhat rude but definitely NOT cruel. Wickham is exactly the type of man you want to avoid: charming until he isn't.

ALSO WHAT DISNEY PRINCE IS AN ASSHOLE??? @princesssarisa? Can you be offended at that one in my stead?

So... this book sounds like rage-bait insanity and I won't be reading it until proved otherwise. Putting it on the avoid shelf along with Secret Radical.

Last note: There is a valid point to be made that jerks or dark broody men have been romanticized, but Austen DOES NOT DO THAT. That is not an Austen thing. Use an actual problematic Gothic or Byronic hero.

#question response #this is nuts #the darcy myth #just looks like rage bait to me #the arguments are nonsensical #Now I'm going to have to fight this book on Reddit too #oh joy

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highvern · 5 months

Text

In the Lake

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x fem!reader

Genre: romance, light horror, greek mythology!au

Warnings: drowning, mention of drunk Hannie (once), talk of a dead body, briefly suggestive moments

Length: 2.5k

Note: not proofread, just me spitballing. monster!reader is a hybrid of a naiad and a siren

Bonus

Monsters live in the lake.

That’s what Jeonghan’s dad tells him.

Monsters with round wet eyes and needle teeth. Who will drown anyone who comes too close to their shores with a laugh of glee. Monsters that will gorge on a man’s heart, and decorate their underwater gardens with his bones.

Jeonghan is never allowed to visit the lake.

And he doesn’t.

Until he turns eight.

—

Breathing glass.

The inky blue surface of the lake can only be described as breathing glass, reflecting the heavy full moon that illuminates the skies about and the ring of black trees circling the shore.

A perfect reflection. Clear enough Jeonghan is convinced that if he jumped in, his body would shatter the smooth surface into crystals of glass rather than clapping waves.

The bright moon lights up the clearing, making Jeonghan privy to every detail from one shore to the other. No one is here. Nothing is here. Not an single animal looking for a cool drink in the late night, the thicket of trees obscuring the hideaway silent. Even the wind seems to hold his breath here, unnaturally yielding.

But Jeonghan is eight and he’s not afraid of the stories his dad tells him around the hearth.

And as eight year olds are wont to do, Jeonghan steps in the dry rotted dock with a sure foot, and peaks over the edge.

Only to meet the eyes of the monster his dad warned him about.

Jeonghan scrambles back, the shrill scream of fear breaking the fragile silence. Nearly toppling into the water in an effort to escape the demon, only to have splinters bite into his hands as he manages to regain his balance.

The monster is on this side of the water too.

Only a hair away from Jeonghan’s face, his breath disturbing the beads of moisture clinging to its forehead.

It reeks of death and fear.

And when Jeonghan makes it to the tree line, it’s gone as if it never existed in the first place.

—

The second time Jeonghan comes to the lake, he’s sixteen and forgets the childhood nightmares that came to life one autumn night.

The daughter of the village baker asked him to meet her there, with droopy eyelids and a bitten lip.

But the moon is high in the sky, a waning sideways grin, and she’s nowhere to be seen.

Vague memories of a night years ago attempt to surface, but Jeonghan can’t decipher reality from the realm of sleep. But he distinctly feels that this place, this eerie wrong place, is frozen in time. That the hedge of trees is a portal between worlds, and this lake is a pocket beyond any.

The dock creeks under his soft steps, gently bobbing ripples across the water with each shift of his weight.

At the end of the dock waits the baker's daughter. Only her eyes visible above the water, milky hue eclipsing the swampy green; flesh swollen and bloated.

And behind her is the monster, eyes crinkled in horrific amusement as Jeonghan untangles what happened.

And the monster is gone when he looks back from the safety of the trees, just like when he was a child.

—

The parchment bleeds ink from rushed sketches of the horrific creature Jeonghan encountered.

None do his terror justice.

Oil slick hair clinging to its scalp, eyes round and horrifically human. Two times he’d seen the monster of the lake, and both only from the bridge of its nose up.

But the fables of his childhood form in his memory and his dreams once again.

Below the surface of the glass lake was a mouth full of quilled teeth, eager to eat his heart and suck his bones. Webbed clawed hands, to snatch him underwater when it got the chance.

None of the drawings are right.

So Jeonghan goes back.

—

Apparently the monster talks.

And the monster has a lovely voice.

It’s waiting at the end of the dock this time. In the same place Mina’s body floated weeks ago.

You’ve returned. She laughs in his mind, light like the chime of a tin bell.

And for a second, Jeonghan thinks he might have dreamt everything. How could this creature kill Mina? How could it be the subject of nightmares, yet sound like an angel?

But he knows he’s not smart enough to imagine any of this.

“You talk?”

Of course I talk. Do you listen?

“You drowned my friend.”

We were just playing.

Her eyes don’t leave Jeonghan’s face, and her nose remains beneath the surface of the water, but she tilts her head as if she’s innocent.

We can play too.

Her voice croons, and his blood heats at the breathy tone.

Jeonghan musters all the venom he’s capable of. Hatred on Mina’s behalf, on her parents behalf. “I don’t play with monsters.” He spits, turning to leave.

Pity. She pouts. You’d look great in my garden.

—

The moon calls Jeonghan to the lake again a few months later. Silent and expectant, she reaches her peak as he breaks into the clearing.

His monster is waiting for him too.

I was wondering when you’d return.

Jeonghan would say he doesn’t know why he’s here. But that’s a lie.

His room is filled with drawings of this place, drawings of her. A stack of books he bought with his measly salary at the mill, stories about demons and monsters who call water their home.

None of it compares to the eerie serenity of being here.

“What are you?” He asks from the safety of the earth at the mouth of the dock.

Standing on the dock had been foolish, the only sure thing he’d learned in his patchy research. Jeonghan will stay out of reach and out of her stomach.

Come here and I’ll tell you. She whispers, voice tickling through his ears and down his spine.

“No.”

Boo. She pouts. Jeonghan can almost imagine a childish stomp and cross of her arms below water. But all he can see is her eyes.

“What’s your name?”

What's your name?

“What will you give me if I tell you?”

I can show you the bones of your friend.

Rage flares on his tongue, white hot and acrid. A step on the dock sends a giggle through his mind.

You humans are so simple. The monster admonishes.

“Would you be happy if your friend was drowned by some ugly beast?” He screams at where she floats, veins popping on the side of his neck, the whites of his eyes visible.

My friends don’t drown. She sniffs, as that’s the problem at hand. And I’m not ugly.

“Must be if you hide your face.”

The wet squelch of her hands hitting the wood of the dock shocks Jeonghan. Human hands, distinctly human except for the necrotic tint to her fingertips. And her human-like hands lead to human like arms, feeding into a very human-like torso.

She smiles beautifully as Jeonghan averts his gaze from her breasts, nipples peeking through the long matted tresses of sopping hair.

Am I a beast, boy?

“Yes.”

Her lower body remains obscured below the dock, dangling to the water. But Jeonghan spots the flare of her hips, the bite of her waist.

Not a beast at all.

She stays perched on the dock long after he’s gone.

This time, Jeonghan doesn’t look back.

—

Jeonghan dreams of her.

Fantasies of her rising on to the dock, beckoning him with a black tipped finger to come closer.

Imaginations of her mouth, how her unmistakably human body would feel in his palms.

And when she’s sucked his breath away, she pulls him under the water and into darkness forever.

—

A drunk trapeze through the forest is a fool's errand. But Jeonghan knows each tree by name, every trail by its curves.

He’s at the lake again.

And she’s not here.

The urge to call for her arises, but what does he call her? Beast? Monster?

I don’t have a name. She whispers to his mind, forcing Jeonghan to scan the surface lake with the grace of a ragdoll.

“So what do I call you?” Jeonghan asks to nothing.

Come here and I’ll tell you.

Eager for an answer, Jeonghan stumbles forward. “Where?”

Here. She calls, head slowly rising in the same spot at the bottom of the dock.

Jeonghan’s feet stop before they touch the wood.

“You’ll drown me.”

Not a question but a truth.

She drags herself up at the end of the dock, this time sitting. Her lower body is human like too; legs glistening in the moonlight.

But her face fills with curiosity.

Would that be so bad? She argues. Then you can stay with me forever.

“How long is your forever?”

For the first time, Jeonghan senses her hesitate.

“How old are you?”

Time means nothing to me.

Jeonghan is familiar with her tone. The same tone he used when he lied about Mina. A lie he’s convincing himself is the truth.

“Have you always been here?”

Yes.

“Are there others?”

Am I not enough for you, human?

If Jeonghan could believe it, he might argue she sounds jealous.

“Seems lonely.”

I have plenty of company. Would you like to see?

His silence at her threat gets her to speak again.

My sisters left. They abandoned this place because humans were interesting enough.

“You can leave this place?”

None of his books mentioned that. But none of the books mentioned anything like her.

If I wish.

“And you don’t?”

I don’t find humans that interesting.

“I think you’re interesting.”

She disappears into the water without a splash.

—

It becomes a routine.

Under the watchful eye of a full moon, Jeonghan sneaks from town to visit his lake. Sometimes she’s waiting for him, body forming puddles on the ancient dock. Others, doesn’t rise beyond the bottom curve of her eyes. And a few times she stayed deep below the surface.

Jeonghan refuses to dwell on the stench of rejection that reeks through his blood on those nights.

Humans age and wrinkle. I will stay beautiful forever.

She explains why she doesn’t want to leave her home, rolling onto her belly and pushing her breasts together tantalizingly; as if proving her point. Jeonghan would like to claim her attempts to charm him have lost their luster.

He sits a safe distance away, firmly out of reach of her hands but not her words.

“What’s beauty if no one else gets to enjoy it?” He asks, munching on an apple from his cottage. There meetings stretch into hours now, and he’ll need the fuel for his early call into the mill.

Do you believe you're the only human to find me?

Deep in his gut, Jeonghan realizes he had. The idea of another person, another man, talking with her, being charmed by her, boils his blood. But she’s a demon, and he can’t claim jealousy to something beyond his understanding. So instead, he plays with her.

“Did you play with them?”

They look lovely in my garden! She claps, a macabre type of glee.

Jeonghan reclines on his back, watching the sky above. The earliest tinges of sunlight are starting to bleed into the dark night, signaling his time to leave.

What's your village like?

The question shocks him. She’s never asked about the world beyond the trees. A comment about something he brought with him such as a book or a treat for her to try. But she only cared about what came into her realm, not what existed outside it.

“Like any other I suppose.”

How do you explain something as familiar as the back of your hand, to someone who doesn’t even know what a hand is?

She snorts, continuing to brush her hair with a comb Jeonghan refuses to think more of. Very helpful.

“It’s a village, with lots of people. And when the spring comes, people hang garlands of flowers everywhere. It’s beautiful.”

Beautiful…

She ponders the imagine, silent for the first time this night.

Pressing his luck, Jeonghan continues.

“You’d just have to see it to understand.”

When she dunks into the water as he leaves, there’s a sadness hanging around her shoulders like a lead weight.

—

“Hannie! Jeonghan!” The gruff of his father’s shouts floods his ear. “Wake up boy!”

Bolting up, Jeonghan throws his eyes around the room wildly, expect a fire due to the urgency of his rising.

“What?” He croaks.

“There’s a girl downstairs. Says she’s your friend.”

Eyebrows curled in confusion, lips twisted sourly, Jeonghan responds. “A friend?”

Perhaps one of the girls in town misinterpreted his kindness again. But Jeonghan hadn’t give any of them more attention than was due since regularly visiting his lake, consumed by the being who ruled it. Whoever this “friend” is should pray his exhaustion will stifle his reprimand.

Shouldering around his father, Jeonghan stomps down the rickety stairs to the foyer. A biting remark hot on his tongue, shoulders square with anger.

But it all melts into shock when he sees a a head of inky hair, wide curios eyes, and legs dripping onto the wooden floor in front of the fire. A familiar brown wool blanket clocks her figure, the one Jeonghan tucked into a tree by the lake for colder nights.

She isn’t looking at him, but rather the blazing hearth heating his home. She stares as if there’s never been a larger miracle than the flames licking towards her, round face illumined with the warm glow.

Jeonghan’s grunt of surprise turns her around swiftly.

And he’s greeted with the same beautiful smile and bell like voice he’d recognize anywhere.

“I wanted to see.”

—

There were monsters in the lake.

That’s what Hwamin’s mom tells her.

Since the beginning of the earth, the monsters dwelled in the lake, blessed to laugh and play for eternity. However, overtime, they would leave one by one, exiting the line of trees without looking back. Until only one monster remained. She vowed never to forsake her watery kingdom like her sisters before her.

And she didn’t.

Until the monster fell in love with a man who visited her every night under a sly moon.

And when his words weren’t enough, when she wished to see his world beyond her own, the monster left her lake and married him.

Hwamin’s eventually stops listening to her mother’s bed time stories because her father always interrupts from the door of her room with a laugh before crossing to kiss her mother in the gross way grown ups do that makes Hwamin green in the face.

She doesn’t really understand what’s so special about the lake in the woods anyway. Or why her mom pretends she isn’t crying when they visit it on her birthday.

#svthub #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #svt jeonghan #svt fanfic #svt x reader #jeonghan #jeonghan smut #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan angst #🫡 highvern

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kithj · 13 days

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IM THE PERSON WHO WAS TALKING ABOUT THINGS HAVE GOTTEN WORSE SINCE WE LAST SPOKE A FEW DAYS AGO And i agree about how sad it is that most queer horror authors i dont vibe with. do you have any you DO like? im always on the lookout for more and from what i’ve seen of your book taste on here we have pretty similar taste in books. can be any genre of horror tbh im not picky

hehehe yes i'd love to give u some recommendations! though if i'm being honest i really haven't found that many authors in the genre that i really vibe with yet. im still on the hunt... may leitz is probably the only one i can recommend that is kinda in the same vein as the "popular" ones, but Leitz is someone who i think does well balancing the extreme aspects of it with characters that are actually interesting and sympathetic to read (as opposed to just one-dimensional cannon fodder for random violence)

i don't know if any of these authors actually refer to themselves as "queer horror" authors nor do i know with certainty if all of them are a part of the lgbt community, but um. well i like their books. these also all aren't strictly about the characters identity; some focus more on it than others so i'll just say it's horror + lgbt characters.

i'll start with extreme horror:

fluids by may leitz - this will be the most extreme book i recommend, and i've talked about it a few times before. it's about two women, named Dahlia and Lauren, who meet on tinder during the pandemic, and after only a few days of talking Lauren takes it upon herself to drive to Dahlia's hometown and try and "save" her. things escalate, and the two women's paths diverge. cw: extreme violence and gore, rape, incest (the two girls pretend to be related), emetophobia, suicide, eating disorder, murder, literally everything you can think of. this is Extreme Horror, and i wouldn't recommend this one for anyone that's not already familiar with the genre.

girl flesh by may leitz - while i didn't like this one as much as fluids, i'm just a fan of may leitz's writing in general so i'd still recommend it. this one has a bit of a pacing problem & does a lot of telling rather than showing, but i like the direction leitz takes this one in the end. i've talked about this one before too so you might remember me rambling about it. this one is about two women who are kidnapped and wake up restrained in a dirty hotel in the middle of the texas mesa. they work together to escape their captors as well as the wild mesa and maybe even fall in love a little bit on the way. cw: extreme violence, gore, transphobia/deadnaming, eating disorder, emetophobia, self-harm, rape. this one isn't as extreme as fluids but i'd still be cautious with it.

to be devoured by sara tantlinger - this one is a short novella you can read in one sitting. Andi really really really wants to know what carrion tastes like. she's fascinated by the vultures that circle the edge of her property, but her fascination soon turns to obsession, and Andi will stop at nothing to learn their secrets. cw: blood consumption, cannibalism, violence and gore, very graphic animal harm and animal death

okay now the rest are just more general horror:

house of hunger by alexis henderson - loosely based on the legend of Elizabeth of Bathory, this story takes place in a society that runs on blood. Marion travels to the House of Hunger to begin her term as a bloodmaid under Countess Lisavet, who has a mysterious ailment that renders her weak and bedbound unless she has a constant flow of blood to treat it. Marion gets to know the other bloodmaids, and in time begins to realize not all is as it seems at the House of Hunger. cw: blood consumption, violence, abusive relationships/gaslighting, death

alexis henderson has also written the year of the witching, and she just announced an academy for liars. i really like her writing so i plan to check out her other work soon-ish.

apparitions by adam pottle - again i talked about this one recently so you may have seen it already, but i NEED more people to read this book. this follows the story of a young man who was born deaf and raised in an abusive household until he was able to escape as a teenager, only to be institutionalized immediately after. there he meets another deaf teen, and for the first time in his life, he has a language that he can speak with and can finally be understood. cw: child abuse, institutionalization, homophobia, abusive relationship, ableism, violence, death, religious trauma, animal harm and animal death.

the luminous dead by caitlin starling - gyre price is a lone caver swaddled inside a hi-tech suit that allows her to dive deep underground to map mineral deposits off-planet. however, the person on the other end of the suit has other plans, and easily takes control of gyre and her suit, putting the two at odds with each other as gyre spirals into uncertainty and paranoia while also having to deal with the terrifying presence of the tunneler. cw: claustrophobia, death, forced drugging, violence, gore, abusive/toxic relationship

caitlin starling also has a few other books though i haven't gotten around to reading them yet and i honestly haven't heard much about them so i can't say how they compare, but the luminous dead is one of my favorites of all time.

the Sworn Soldier series by T. Kingfisher - i love these books, they're just short fun horror stories with a really charming main character. Alex Easton is a retired soldier from Gallacia, and has their own special pronouns in Gallacian (kan/kanself) as part of their occupation and culture, and is what we would consider nonbinary (not all soldiers identify this way, but Alex does). vicars in Gallacia use van/vanself, there are different pronouns for children and adults, etc. i think it's just really interesting and i enjoy what the author has done with the worldbuilding and language, and how seamlessly it fits into her writing. the first book is a retelling of the fall of the house of usher (and is the stronger of the two) while the second one has Alex returning home to Gallacia and facing off with an old Gallacian superstition that's haunting their family cottage.

again i don't really know how T. Kingfisher/Ursula Vernon personally identifies but i do recommend her writing regardless, she's written other horror books as well as some fantasy books & she's just incredibly skilled imo, easy and fun to read.

most of my TBR that i'm working towards is horror so maybe i'll update this post later with more.... i'm currently reading providence girls by morgan dante and into the drowning deep by mira grant.

morgan dante has a few other books that are all some flavor of gothic horror/romance and i'm very excited for their new book that just came out TODAY that's a carmilla/elizabeth of bathory reimagining. i'm planning on reading that Immediately (i preordered it) so i'll report back for it and once i finish providence girls, too.

the next few books on my TBR that are all lgbt + horror:

The Seep by Chana Porter

Thirst by Marina Yuszczuk

A Dowry of Blood & An Education in Malice, both by S.T. Gibson

Little Rot by Akwaeke Emezi (i think this one is a thriller actually and also isnt out yet but whatever. i recommend this author, they genre-hop a lot & have a decent amount of work published already)

Sorrowland by Rivers Solomon

and of course i always recommend looking up content warnings if you need to especially for the last few since i haven't read them myself and can't vouch for them just yet. but ummm hopefully you see something you like 😭 i'll stop yapping <3

#sorry i do favor f/f pairings or sapphic characters in books and thats kinda obvious here lmfao #anyways. thanks for enabling me to talk about books <3 #i really want to read the seep ive been dying to get to it. nyehilism recommend it to me mwah #into the drowning deep is beating my ass i WILL finish it today so i can move on #i'll probably post about it here once i finish i have Thots about it already #oh also i just looked and caitlin starling's newest book is under st martin's press which is being boycotted atm #so that's probably why i havent seen anything #the luminous dead is under harper voyager tho #ask #anonymous #long post

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hayatheauthor · 9 months

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A Step-by-Step Guide to Crafting a Compelling Storyline

I'll warn you, this is a long one. I kind of took 'comprehensive guide' a little too seriously.

You have a fantastic concept burning at the edges of your imagination, a collection of characters whispering their stories to you, and a world just waiting to be explored. But how do you weave all these elements into a story that grips readers and refuses to let go? The answer lies in effective plot planning.

A well-crafted plot isn't just a sequence of events; it's a carefully orchestrated symphony that takes readers on an unforgettable ride. Whether you're an experienced writer or someone trying to start their first book, here are my personal steps to crafting a compelling storyline with good plot planning.

Step 1: Idea Generation and Conceptualization

Every great story begins with a spark of inspiration. It's that moment when an idea ignites in your mind and beckons you to explore its potential. The journey from a fleeting thought to a fully-fledged concept is an exhilarating one, and it all starts with idea generation and conceptualization.

Techniques for Idea Generation

Mind Mapping

Grab a piece of paper or use a digital tool to create a mind map. Write your central idea in the middle and branch out with related concepts, characters, themes, and settings. Mind mapping can help you visualize the connections and possibilities within your idea.

Bullet journalling

Bullet journalling is my personal favourite way to generate ideas for your WIP. Get a piece of paper or open a Word/Docs document and create three different sections: world, characters, and plot. Now add facts to each of those sections that you've come up with so far.

You can even go a step ahead and create more detailed sections, for example, you could do this for your different characters or different places in your world. Usually, one bullet point leads to the next and once you have an idea of everything you've already established you'll naturally start adding more to it.

Blurting

Talk to someone about your WIP, or pretend that you're talking to someone and write down everything that comes to mind. You can even use AI tools like ChatGPT and ask it to hold a conversation with you about your WIP. Tell it to ask you questions along the way, this will get the wheels turning and even help fill plot holes.

Prompts and Challenges

Explore writing prompts or challenges to spark your creativity. Websites, books, or even random word generators can provide the nudge you need to generate fresh ideas.

Refining Your Concept

Once you have a collection of ideas, it's time to refine and shape them into a cohesive concept.

Identify Themes

What themes or messages do you want to convey through your story? Is it a tale of redemption, the power of friendship, or the consequences of ambition? Pinpointing your core themes will guide your storytelling and also give you a clear image of the end goal.

Find Your Angle

Consider what makes your idea unique. How can you approach a familiar concept from a fresh perspective? For example, if you're doing a classic murder mystery, what makes your book different from others? Take some time to look up titles similar to your WIP and find any repetitive themes/patterns.

Maybe most murder mysteries end with the partner being the killer, or maybe the fantasy books written in the same mythology as your WIP's all involve a war. Knowing what is currently a popular trend in the market can give you a clear idea of where you can be different from comparable titles. This is especially important for genres like horror and romance.

Develop a Premise

Your premise is the foundation of your story. It's the "what if?" question that drives your narrative. For instance, "What if an ordinary high school student discovers they have the ability to control time?" You need to have a solid premise before you even think about writing your story.

Step 2: Character Development and Motivation

Characters are the beating heart of your story, and crafting them with depth and authenticity is key to creating a narrative that truly captivates. Your characters often leave more of a lasting impact on your readers than the plot itself.

Think of it this way: a good plot will get you readers, but memorable characters will get you fans. Some of the largest communities in the book space all run on the readers' fondness for certain characters rather than the story itself. Yes, your story and the way you tell it is very important, but nobody wants to listen to the story of a boring person.

Bringing Characters to Life

Personal Histories

Delve into your characters' pasts. What experiences shaped them into who they are today? A traumatic childhood or a life-changing event can influence their motivations and behaviours. Maybe your antagonist has a soft spot for single parents because their mother was the only person who cared for them. Maybe the love interest seems like a sunshine character because they feel the need to always seem put-together and perfect.

Physical Traits

This might sound obvious enough, after all a character's appearance is the first thing people think of when visualising, however, many authors fail to have a clear image of their character's physical traits which can lead to inconsistent or boring descriptions. Sure, your protagonist can have bushy hair and brown eyes, but what else?

Think about their body type, height, fashion sense, the way they carry themselves, walk, and sound. Do they have a random mole at the back of their neck? Do they always smell like a certain perfume because their dead father gifted it to them? It's important for you to have a clear image of who you're writing.

Strengths and Flaws

Just like real people, characters have strengths and weaknesses. These traits affect their decisions and interactions. A courageous hero might also struggle with recklessness, adding complexity to their personality. It's easy to create 2D characters by using tropes or shallow descriptions 'an all-powerful villain' 'the chosen one who trained their whole life and is perfect', but 3D characters are what will actually catch your readers' attention.

There's a reason why people often love the grey characters, the anti-heroes or anti-villains. Those who have complex personalities that make them seem human. This makes us empathise with the characters, and as a writer, it also helps you think of your characters as real people with flaws and problems.

Motivations: The Why Behind the What

Goals and Desires

What do your characters want? Their goals drive the plot forward. A detective's desire to solve a mystery or a scientist's quest for a groundbreaking discovery sets the narrative in motion. Why is your protagonist doing what they are doing?

You could simply give yourself a generic answer like 'they want to save the people' or 'they're a good person' but this can lead to confusion in the long run. If as the writer you yourself can't understand your character's goals it will get very hard to showcase them to your readers. Try to pick apart each character and genuinely consider why they are the way they are.

Inner Conflicts

Characters often grapple with inner turmoil – the clash between their desires, values, and fears. This inner conflict adds layers of intrigue and reliability. Maybe your protagonist realises the antagonist's qualms with the government are actually valid and suffers from moral conflicts as they contemplate whether or not they are the 'good guy'. Inner conflict adds dimension to your characters which in turn makes it easier for your readers to empathise with them.

Step 3: Outlining the Key Plot Points

Now that you have a clear idea of what you want to write and who you want to write it with, it's time to consider the how. You have a story, but how do you want to tell it? Break down the key plot points that shape your narrative, creating a roadmap that guides your characters through their trials and triumphs.

The Building Blocks of Plot

The Inciting Incident

The spark that ignites your story. It's the moment when your protagonist's world is disrupted, setting them on a path of change. For example, in "The Hunger Games," Katniss Everdeen's sister being chosen for the Games is the inciting incident that propels her into the arena.

This can be a little harder to recognise in genres outside of SFF and horror. For a thriller novel, this moment could be the moment your protagonist uncovers a sketchy detail in their relative's death. In romance, it could be the moment your protagonist is introduced to the love interest.

Turning Points

These are pivotal moments that shift the course of your narrative. They introduce new challenges, reveal secrets, or force characters to make crucial decisions. Think of them as the gears that keep your story machine turning. It's important to have some sort of turning point in your story to keep things interesting.

Maybe the character your protagonist was suspecting throughout the first half of the book ends up having a solid alibi, or a seemingly innocent character suddenly seems sketchy.

The Climax

The peak of tension and conflict. It's the moment your characters face their biggest challenge and must make their ultimate choice. In "The Lord of the Rings," the climactic battle at Mount Doom decides the fate of Middle-earth. In a murder mystery, this can be the moment the real killer is unveiled, or in a rom-com, it could be when the love interest moves to a new city to follow the protagonist.

Falling Action and Resolution

As your story winds down, the falling action ties up loose ends and provides closure. Readers witness the aftermath of the climax, and the characters' arcs find resolution. This is the bit where you make sure you aren't leaving any plot holes behind. Remember that random character your protagonist suspected at the start of the book? What's their alibi, why did they suddenly get out of the picture?

Structuring Plot Points

Introduction of Stakes

Introduce what your characters stand to gain or lose early on. This creates a sense of urgency that propels them forward. What if your protagonist fails to complete their missions? What if the detective never unveils the killer's identity? What if your protagonist doesn't win over the love interest? Show your readers the worst possible outcome early on so they know why they should be rooting for your protagonist.

This doesn't necessarily have to be something big or scary. In Harry Potter, many of us wanted Harry to stay at Hogwarts because his life with the Dursleys was cruel and he deserved happiness. That was a small yet significant stake that made the readers empathetic and silently root for Harry.

Foreshadowing and Setup

Plant seeds of future events throughout your story. Foreshadowing builds anticipation and adds depth, making later plot developments more satisfying. I have written a lot of blogs that either cover or briefly mention foreshadowing so I'm going to keep this point a little short.

Foreshadowing helps your readers slowly piece everything together and have that 'I knew it!' or 'how did I not see this coming?' moment. It might also encourage them to turn back and reread your work to focus on the little hints you left throughout the book. Foreshadowing is especially important in murder mysteries.

Step 4: Subplots and Secondary Storylines

Subplots and secondary storylines are the secret ingredients that transform a good story into an unforgettable masterpiece. They add layers of intrigue, provide character development opportunities, and keep readers eagerly turning pages. If you're confused about what is a subplot and how to create one you can visit my previous blog that focuses on this topic.

The Role of Subplots

Enriching Character Arcs

Subplots allow secondary characters to shine. They can showcase different facets of your characters' personalities, revealing their strengths, weaknesses, growth, and relationships.

Theme Reinforcement

Subplots can explore and reinforce your story's themes from various angles. For instance, a romantic subplot can underscore the theme of love and sacrifice, in turn making your protagonist’s heroic death at the end of the novel seem more impactful. We all know Pepper’s reaction to Tony’s death in End Game made the moment more emotional.

While creating subplots and considering which one might be relevant to your book you should think of how this subplot would impact your end goal and whether it would help emotionally connect with your readers.

Parallel Journeys

Subplots can create parallel journeys that mirror or contrast with the main plot. This dynamic adds depth and resonance to your storytelling. Maybe the antagonist’s assistant has a similar backstory to your protagonist but while the protagonist was rescued by the government they were taken in by the antagonist. As the two geniuses face each other your protagonist can’t help but consider whether they would still be fighting for the ‘good’ side had their roles been switched.

Balancing The Main Plot and Subplots

Interconnectedness

Subplots shouldn't feel disconnected from the main plot. Instead, they should interact and influence each other, creating a harmonious narrative flow. Your subplot could help bring a satisfactory end to a certain arc of your story, or it could sow the roots for the important climactic moment of your book.

Pacing and Tension

Strategically introduce subplots to maintain pacing and tension. They can provide moments of relief or heightened drama, enhancing the overall reading experience.

Character Integration

Ensure that characters involved in subplots maintain relevance to the main plot. Their actions and decisions should contribute to the overarching story, even as they pursue their own paths. You should also think about whether or not your character is overshadowing the protagonist. In Harry Potter there were several characters such as Ginny, Luna and Neville with subplots and backstories of their own, however, they never overshadowed Harry’s tale.

Step 5: Crafting Scenes and Sequences

Welcome to the realm where the magic truly comes to life – crafting scenes that resonate, captivate, and propel your story forward. Scenes are the building blocks of your narrative, each one a window into your characters' world and emotions. They help infuse your story with tension, emotion, and unforgettable moments.

Again, this is a topic I’ve covered separately in another blog so I won’t go into too much detail here.

Scene Structure and Elements

Objective and Conflict

Every scene should have a purpose – a clear objective that drives the characters. Introduce conflict that challenges their goals and motivations, creating tension that keeps readers engaged.

Emotion and Stakes

Characters' emotions are the heartbeats of scenes. Amplify emotions by highlighting what's at stake for the characters. Whether it's a heated argument or a tender moment, emotions draw readers in.

Sequences: Crafting a Flow

Cause and Effect

Scenes connect through cause and effect. Each scene's outcome sets the stage for the next, creating a seamless flow that propels the narrative. A character's choice in one scene can reverberate and shape subsequent events.

Rising Action

Craft sequences with escalating tension. The stakes should intensify, drawing characters deeper into challenges and dilemmas. This creates a sense of anticipation that keeps readers eagerly turning pages.

Step 6: Mapping the Journey: Creating a Visual Plot Outline

Visualising your plot, characters, and world can be very hard sometimes. Let's be honest, words can only do so much and if you don't have a clear idea of what you want to show your readers you can end up going down a path of 'telling' them everything. This can take away from the point of your story and end up boring your readers. If you find it hard to visualise where you're going with your book, here are some tips that can help.

Visual Tools for Plot Planning

Timelines and Flowcharts

Create a timeline that outlines the sequence of major events, from inciting incidents to resolution. Flowcharts visually depict the interconnectedness of plot points, making it easy to track the evolution of your story. You can also cut out or add bits depending on how far along you are. This will also help you keep track of what scene/development should be introduced when and why.

Index Cards or Post-Its

Write down key scenes, plot developments, and character arcs on individual index cards or sticky notes. Arrange and rearrange them on a board or wall to visualize the narrative's flow. You can also do this if you're confused about the climax of your novel by adding different ideas to the post-its and putting them alongside the rest of the book's plot to see what things would look like from a reader's perspective.

Infusing Creativity

Playlists

Curate a playlist that captures the mood and emotions of your story. Music has the power to transport you to the heart of your narrative, helping you channel the right atmosphere while plotting. You can listen to this playlist every time you sit down to write WIP. With time, this will also help you overcome writer’s block since you can put on this playlist every time you struggle to get into the right writing mindset.

Moodboards/Pinterest Boards

Create a visual feast by collecting images, aesthetics, and visuals that embody your story's essence. Platforms like Pinterest allow you to craft moodboards that serve as visual touchstones. I would recommend creating a separate pinboard for every character so you can get a clear idea of their vibe and appearance. You can even refer to these every time you're writing about or from the perspective of a new character.

Step 7: Flexibility and Adaptability

As you embark on your writing journey, remember that stories have a life of their own. Embracing flexibility and adaptability is your compass through uncharted territories.

Allow characters to surprise you, let plots pivot, and themes emerge. Balancing structure with spontaneity ensures a dynamic narrative that resonates deeply. Listen to your characters, explore ethical complexities, and evolve alongside your story.

By staying open to the unexpected, you infuse your writing with authenticity and richness. Your plot outline is a guide, but your characters and themes have the power to shape the course. Embrace the unpredictable, and watch your story flourish beyond your imagination.

I hope this blog on A Step-by-Step Guide to Crafting a Compelling Storyline will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks?

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey!

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year

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{14} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on San & Mingi)

Words: 9,450

Warnings: Subtle manipulative tendencies, dream/mental voyerism, threats with a bat. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Mingi Stans, come get y’all juice (can I say that even though it’s not smut yet? Oh well, I just did lmaoo). Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this next part, I know I did!! I’ve got a few things planned for the upcoming chapters, so stay tuned! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Mini Masterlist

The first few days after your confession with Yeosang were interesting to say the least. Needless to say, you were mortified at the idea that the other seven overheard you having sex, and despite Yeosang reassuring you that he made sure to kick his brothers out of the house well before anything transpired between the both of you, you weren’t all that convinced.

Though, the more you thought about it, the more you realized that it was going to have to be something you all would have to get used to. You’ve just never been in a relationship like this before, so the thought of having someone overhear you having sex has always been a cause for embarrassment. Now though, you’re easing into the idea.

It’s going to happen again sooner or later, and you aren’t about to make it awkward. Besides, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.

That still didn’t prevent Yeosang from practically living at your side for the first three days after your confession. Oh, so badly did his brothers want to toss him out of the house like he did to them, but they couldn’t. At least, not yet. They did all agree to give each other privacy during each other’s first times with you, out of respect for both you and each other. The fact that he was so smug about it, though, is what really got on their nerves.

Yeosang was subtle. No, he would never boast, but the fact that he could now practically cling onto you whenever he wanted drove the others up the wall. The two of you were practically drenched in each other’s scents, and the fact that Yeosang wouldn’t let you go only made it last that much longer. A fact of which all of them wanted to share in with you for themselves, but Yeosang beat them to it.

At least some were better at hiding and maintaining their jealousy than the others. Mingi, Yunho, and Jongho all know it’s only a matter of time before you allow themselves the honour of having you in the same ways. The fact that you’ve already confessed to one of them so soon after everything means that you’ve only fallen for them much quicker than any of them could have hoped. Needless to say it delights all of them.

The fourth day after the events had transpired, both Seonghwa and Wooyoung had cornered Yeosang in the kitchen on their end of the house, San not so sneakily appearing a moment later.

“Yeosang,” the eldest’s voice was stern, shooting the younger male a pointed look.

“No.” Yeosang’s reply is immediate, quirking an eyebrow knowingly at the three males across from him.

“We haven’t even said anything, yet.” San pouts, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I’m not telling you anything,” Yeosang shakes his head. “If you want to know, find out yourself. Better yet, ask her.”

“Come on, Sangie,” Wooyoung whines. “Won’t you at least tell us something? Just one tiny, little thing?”

Slowly, Yeosang tilts his head at his three brothers, blinking at them a few times as a soft smile tugs at his features. They just know he’s reminiscing about whatever transpired between you and him that one morning those few days ago. Though, at the way he gets lost in his own head, they know he’s not cracking.

A frustrated huff escapes the eldest’s lips as both San and Wooyoung pout, but they leave him be. For now.

At least by the fifth day, you no longer smell like him, his scent finally dissipating from your skin, much to their content. Though, Yeosang would beg to differ. He believes you should always be covered in each other, especially now.

What really drives them up the walls, though, is when you seemingly start to get lost in your thoughts around them more often than not. They just know you’re thinking back on the events that had transpired between you and Yeosang mere days ago, especially when that loving smile of yours stretches across your features.

Unluckily for them, you seem to always zone out like this while in the kitchen as you sit at the counter. A fact which has a pout usually tugging at any one of their lips, chests swirling with that all too familiar jealous beast that they’ve all become so used to. Why can’t you be thinking about them like that? Why can’t they be the one on your mind so much so that you cannot help but get bashful when you so much as hear their name?

They just want your everything, and each male is going crazy knowing that he could be so close to having you, yet you still feel so far away.

Perhaps you just don’t know what you’re missing, yet. Which is exactly why on that fifth evening, just as you settle down for bed, one of them makes a plan. One way or another, he’ll make you crave him. So much so, that you’ll come running to him as soon as you wake up, begging for him to touch you.

One thing you still haven’t quite managed to figure out is how to keep your void up when you sleep. Occasionally, if any one of the guys can sense you’re having a bit of an unpleasant dream, they will alter it, implementing the sweetest visions into your mind which immediately has you relaxing, and your mind calming.

There have even been a few times where they have planted small seeds of desire in you, filling your dreams with sultry dialogue, and the occasional touch here and there. Usually when this happens, you manage to kick them out, which is why this plan of his is so risky.

You have always been able to lucid dream, being aware of what is real and what is fake. Lately, though, you seem to be allowing them free reign in your mindscape during these more recent nights instead of kicking them out right away. A fact which could not make them happier, or work in his favour tonight.

Which is why when he feels that familiar loosening of your void, sinking into the water until he’s fully submerged himself in that inky blackness, he smirks. Time for him to finally consume your every thought, just as you always consume his.

Tumbling into unconsciousness, you feel yourself sitting on top of an antique wooden desk, the polished lacquer shining beneath the light of the full moon. Turning your head to the side reveals a beautiful paned window, a row of bookcases lining either side of the entrance to the balcony that sits just to the right.

You seem to be in a bedroom, waiting for someone to return. Though, why you seem to be eating from a bag of marshmallows is beyond you. Weird, but you’ll roll with it for now. It’s not the first time you’ve popped up in a gorgeous setting only to be either wearing, eating, or doing something completely out of the ordinary.

The sound of the door opening and closing draws your attention, and you turn your head to the left to see a figure enter the room. He’s dressed in all black, a wide rimmed hat resting on his head and blocking most of his features from your sight. Again, you cannot help but think of Wangyeo, your lovable (and favourite) fictional reaper, even if this man’s outfit is slightly different. Though, he doesn’t remove his hat right away like he usually does when you envision this scenario in your mind.

That should have been your first clue.

The man smirks. A notion of which you take notice of as his lips seem to be the only feature visible to you as he begins making his way over to the desk you’re sitting on top of.

“I’ve missed you, Baby,” his voice rumbles out, and you swear it sounds so familiar to you, but you just cannot place it for the moment.

A longing begins to ache in the centre of your chest for this man, of whom you believe to be Wangyeo for the moment. Not that you’re complaining. You’d gladly have any and all dreams you can about your favourite reaper any day of the week.

You place your bag of marshmallows on the desk beside you, extending your free hand out for him to take. He does, almost immediately, his fingers wrapping delicately around your own as his heart thunders in his chest.

In the next moment, he steps in front of you, the rim of his hat still angled downwards as it covers most of his face. “Did you miss me, too?”

“More than anything, Baby,” you hear yourself reply, reaching out for him in the next second and pulling him flush into you.

Naturally, he comes to stand between your parted legs as your hands run over his shoulders, then down his chest, until you wrap them around his back, leaning into him so that your head is resting right over his heart. The intensity you can hear pounding against his chest makes you smile.

You notice you’re clinging onto him for dear life, as if you’re afraid he might leave you again or disappear if you let him go. Though, the same desperation felt in your grip you can feel mirrored in his own as his hands find purchase on your back, holding you to his chest lovingly.

“Don’t ever leave me again,” you hear yourself whisper, a mere plea on your lips.

You feel his chest rumble with a chuckle, “I wouldn’t dream of it, My Queen,”

That should have been your second clue, but your mind is far too consumed by this vision in front of you right now. It’s almost exactly like the little fantasy you had the other week, so you’re not complaining. You’re just mildly surprised you’re dreaming of it now.

Guess you’re more horny than you thought.

Slowly, his hands begin to slide down your body until they find purchase on your thighs. An appreciative squeeze is all you receive as you pull the slightest bit away from him before his lips are on yours, successfully managing to steal your breath away.

The kiss is desperate, and so unbelievably needy, like you are the very air he needs to breathe. Exactly like how you pictured him being in your little fantasy the other week. Your hands splay themselves over his back, pulling him in closer as you deepen the kiss, a whine building in your throat as you feel his tongue brushing against yours in the most sinful of ways.

You start to unbutton his coat.

Funny, you don’t remember it being this short as you go to push it off of his shoulders. The material feels different, too.

That should have been your third clue. Only, you don’t get to think about it for too long as the male pulls you in closer, a low groan escaping his throat as he feels your legs wrap themselves around his waist. He grinds into you then, and the gasp that he hears escaping your lips as you break from his heated kiss has a shiver of pleasure running up his spine, even if it’s a sound he’s hearing for him only in your dreams.

Immediately, his lips are back on yours and your hands move to tangle in his hair, causing his hat to tumble off of his head and fall to the floor in the next second. You think nothing of letting your own head tilt back as he begins to place open mouthed kisses along the side of your neck soon after, teeth nipping at the delicate skin. Your eyes remain closed for the moment, revelling in the feeling of his tongue laving over your pulse until you spare a glance at the male suckling at your neck.

A flash of pink catches your eyes.

In the next moment, you’ve shoved him off of you, mouth parted in disbelief as you see an all too familiar face staring back at you with a slight pout on his lips, chest heaving as he attempts to catch his breath.

“San?” You grip the edge of the desk for support. “What the fuck? Why the fuck are you in my dream?”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it a moment ago,” he mumbles, that all too familiar pout of his still tugging at his features.

“To be fucking fair, I thought this was something else entirely,” you say, motioning vaguely around the room.

Something in his eyes flash, recognition settling over his features until he’s letting out a huff. “I bet you wouldn’t have any problem with Yeosang being here right now.”

Your eyebrows raise considerably in disbelief. “You invaded my dream because you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” his reply is instantaneous, a frown pulling at his brow.

“Mmhmm,” you purse your lips. “Sure you aren’t. Which is exactly why you pretended to be Wangyeo and-“ your voice catches in your throat as if you’ve just realized something. A tight smile begins to pull at your features as you blink at him multiple times. “San,” the way you say his name has him swallowing quite nervously all of a sudden, “why did you decide to invade my dream and make me think you were Wangyeo?”

He quiet for a moment, tense as he stands before you.

“You wouldn’t have wanted me, otherwise. If I didn’t recreate that damn fantasy of yours-“ he catches himself, immediately cutting his words short as he sees your eyes flash.

“My what?” You smile tersely, eyes shining with hidden malice as you tilt your head slightly, hopping off of the desk you’ve been sitting on top of in the next moment.

He shakes his head, eyes wide as if he just admitted to something he shouldn’t have. Of which he knows will get him in trouble.

“Okay, first of all, shame on you for assuming what, or whom I would want. You can, and will never make that decision for me,” your words are pointed as you cross your arms in front of your chest, “but we can talk about that later. I want to know exactly what you mean by that ‘damn fantasy’ of mine.”

He remains quiet, a tight pull of his lips as a grimace rests on his features. However, you don’t even need to hear anything from him to be able to put two and two together. This scenario, his outfit, the way he was touching you and subsequently letting you touch him, letting you believe you were dreaming about your fantasy all add up.

You inhale sharply, a chill running down your spine as your eyes flash once more.

“Run.” Your voice is ominous, probably the darkest tone he’s ever heard from you directed towards him.

“Baby, please, I can explain-“ he attempts to reason with you, extending his hands out in a nonthreatening motion, but a baseball bat appearing in your hand has him blinking in shock at you in the next second.

He’s in your domain now.

“You really want to attempt to explain your way out of this one?” You take a slow step towards him, grip tightening on the handle of the bat in your hand. “Let me do it for you, yeah?” You tilt your head slightly, that crazed look shining in your eyes that he hasn’t seen since you threw that mug at Wooyoung’s head. “You invaded my dream here because you’re jealous that I fell in love with and subsequently had sex with your brother before you. Then, deciding that I haven’t been giving you enough attention in the real world, you created my dream here using a fantasy I had made for myself after you overheard me getting off because you thought I wouldn’t want you any other way. Does that sound about right?”

Not to mention the fact that if he overheard you, then they all did.

“Uh,” San blinks, his whole body frozen to the spot for the moment as his gaze remains transfixed on the bat in your hand which you have moved to rest over your one shoulder. “Baby, why do you have a bat?”

“If you want to gain my affections, this is not the way to do it.” You seethe, completely ignoring his question. “I don’t need you and your voyeristic tendencies invading my mind, especially when I’m sleeping.”

Something within his eyes flash, and his entire demeanour is shifting. You can just tell from the way his hands lower, a sneer painting his features as he rolls his eyes that that all too familiar jealous beast is making a reappearance.

“But you’ll fall in love with the biggest voyer of us all, and sleep with him first,” he huffs, moving to cross his arms over his chest.

The silence that settles around the both of you is deadly, and the longer it lingers, the more San becomes uncomfortable by how still you’ve gone.

The tip of the bat touching the ground echoes through the room as you drop you hand back to your side, eyes flashing once more. “Run.”

Immediately, San is thrown from your dream, meaning you’ve returned to consciousness. He lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair before slumping back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. Now, he’s stuck staring at the counter, a frown on his face as he glares at the bag of marshmallows in front of him. Not even his favourite treat can pull him out of his frustrations right now.

Well, that didn’t go as planned.

Meanwhile, as soon as you feel consciousness returning to you, you’re sitting up in bed and flinging the covers off of your body. Angrily, you shove your feet into your slippers, standing in the next moment. Your eyes blaze with an irritated fury unlike ever before as you stomp your way over to your door, flinging the piece of wood open in the next moment.

Jongho, who had been casually walking down the hallway and towards the cinema room, stops in his tracks as soon as he sees you. He blinks a few times, noting how you meet his gaze with bloodshot eyes, a fire burning behind your orbs from what he may or may not have just observed happen in your dream.

“Darling, are you-“

“Where is he?” Your voice is low, threatening as your words rumble out of you.

“Who?” He’ll play along for now. Besides, if he gets to watch you kick his brother’s ass, he will. Jongho will absolutely revel in it.

“Jongho, sweetie,” for a brief moment, a sickly sweet smile takes over your features as you relax your tense shoulders. “Could I please have a baseball bat?”

In the blink of an eye, said male makes the object appear in his hand, the wooden bat being handed seamlessly to you in an instant. You grin maniacally.

“Thank you, love,” you move to walk passed him, patting his arm affectionately as you do so.

“Don’t smash any of the vases, Hongjoong will be upset.” He informs you, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Oh, believe me, this isn’t for any vases.” You turn to spare a glance at him from over your shoulder, that same unnerving smile pulling at your features. “Now, where is San?”

“He’s in our kitchen.” Jongho chuckles knowingly as he senses Wooyoung pop his head out from the dance studio down the hallway. “Why, Darling?”

“Because,” you shoot him a final tense smile from over your shoulder before turning around, dragging the tip of the bat along the floor behind you as you once more begin to walk down the hallway and towards their side of the house. “I’m going to break him.”

A pleasant shiver runs up both Wooyoung’s and Jongho’s spine as you say this, muttering something about smashing San’s kneecaps in as your figure retreats down the hallway. Of course, they know you won’t actually do anything to their brother. Sure, you may be mad, but this is a different kind of anger than they’ve felt from you before. Besides, it’s not like you could really hurt San physically with a bat, even if you tried. Unless he let you.

As soon as you round the corner to the entrance to their kitchen to see San sitting at the counter with his shoulders slumped, a crazed grin takes over your features once more.

“Oh, Sannie,” your voice is sickly sweet, and you immediately notice how his entire body tenses as it reaches his ears.

You’re no fool. You know he knew you were coming. You also know he knows you’re holding a bat in your hand right now, probably having overheard you ask Jongho for one from down the hall.

“I thought I told you to run.”

Instantly, he’s on his feet, turning to face you with his hands outstretched in front of him in attempts to calm you down. Your eyes briefly dart to the bag of marshmallows on the counter, and you realize now why you probably had been eating some in your dream.

“A bat? Again?” Comes his first response, quirking a brow at you in curiosity. “Baby, you know you can’t hurt me with that.”

“I know,” you huff amusedly, “but I can try.”

Something in his eyes flash, and you notice how pained he seems to be in the next moment. “Are you that mad that you would hit me over it?”

“I might,” your eyes flash.

“You would beat me?” His question sounds as if his voice catches in his throat, eyes drooping as he looks at you.

Immediately, the bat is falling from your hand as your breath hitches in your throat.

“No! Oh my god, no!” You shake your head, eyes going wide. “San, I may be upset, but I would never beat you over it.”

“I know,” a cheeky grin stretches across his face as he casually leans against the counter using one hand for support. “You probably couldn’t, even if you tried. I just needed you to drop the bat.”

Sure enough, when you look down at the ground, the bat has disappeared from sight.

“Look,” you sigh, raising your one hand to rub at the side of your head, “I can handle you guys altering my dreams. I’ve known you’ve been doing so since I got here.” He quirks a brow at you. “However, what I don’t appreciate is you invading my mind because you’re fucking jealous over a stupid, petty reason, and using my own fantasies for your own gain.”

“So, if I did it if I wasn’t jealous for that reason, it’d be okay?” He smirks knowingly.

“No!” You reply exasperatedly. “Are you even listening to what I’m saying?”

“Of course I am, Baby,” he meets your gaze.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself, calming your frustrations for the moment.

“Then, do you understand why I’m so upset?” You cross your arms over your chest as you meet his gaze.

“Because I got jealous.”

“Oh, no, the jealousy I can handle.” Your response clearly catches him off guard. “I expect it from you guys, so that’s nothing new. It’s still a bit ridiculous, in my opinion, and I feel bad that you all feel that insecure about out relationships to cause such jealousy within you. You all cannot expect me to fall in love with you at the same rate, that’s just unrealistic.” You shake your head, waving your hand in the air as if dismissing the thought for the moment. “Anyways, that’s beside the point.”

You can tell he’s still stunned just from the way he blinks at you in response.

“No, I’m upset at the fact that you believed that I would only want you if you posed as someone else.” You continue, raising a finger pointedly in the air for emphasis. “First of all, that’s untrue. Second of all,” you slowly begin closing the distance between the both of you, and you notice how he backs himself against the wall until you’re standing right before him. Without thinking, you place a hand beside his shoulder to support yourself, practically holding him there as he watches you with hooded eyes. “The fact that you decided to make that choice for me, irritates me. You don’t know what I want. Hell, I don’t know what I want half the time, but I don’t appreciate you making that decision for me.”

“Also, you don’t think I haven’t come to terms with the fact that I know you’ve all seen me naked before with your little voyeristic tendencies?” You notice the way he swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes briefly trail down the front of your body. “Believe me, that took some heavy mental talking through on my part to even be in the same room as you all after I figured that one out. Knowing Yeosang may or may not be the biggest voyer of you all changes nothing about what I feel for him now.”

A low growl emanates from his chest, and you have to suppress the way you want to roll your eyes. Only, you fail to notice the way his own dart to a spot beside your head, seemingly looking past you for the moment.

“What upsets me, is the fact that because of your jealousy, you would attempt to throw your own brother under the bus because of the way I feel about him.” You meet his gaze once more. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to work.”

“Oh, yeah?” He quirks a brow, eyes briefly darting down to your lips for the moment before staring deeply into your own. His voice drops to a mere whisper. “Just what am I trying to do here, Baby?”

“You,” you shift your hand that had been supporting yourself against the wall in order to place a pointed finger on his chest, “are trying to get me not to like him more than you. Only, your little plan has now backfired on you tremendously.”

His chest rises and falls dramatically. The spot where your finger is pressed against his skin, even if separated by the material of his shirt, burns. A heat floods his veins as he attempts to control his breathing for the time being, but being this close to you, given the situation, San cannot help but become surrounded by everything you.

Again, he glances at your lips, eyes hooding over as he licks his own.

“Oh, you want to kiss me so badly right now,” he smirks. “Don’t you?”

Your brow quirks, and you mirror the smug look on his face with one of your own. Slowly, you trail your finger up, allowing your nail to graze over his chest as you come to cup the side of his jaw in the palm of your hand, thumb settling dangerously close to the corner of his mouth as you lean in. The ghost of your breath tickles the skin of his lips.

“San,” the way you whisper his name as you glance downwards has a pleasant shudder wracking his entire body, anticipation clawing at his chest. “You’re projecting.”

Patting the side of his cheek a few times, you go to pull away from him, much to his disappointment. The pout is back on his face in an instant, even deeper than before as he watches you slowly back away from him.

“Next time I catch any of you in my dreams like that, I won’t hesitate to kick your ass in my own domain.” You state, raising your finger to point threateningly at him. “Also, I’m stealing these.”

Swiping the bag of marshmallows off of the counter, you go to turn around. Only, you don’t expect to see Yeosang leaning against the entranceway when you do, a smug look pulling at his features.

“Oh, stop looking so smug, you’d be in the same boat if the roles were reversed.” You roll your eyes playfully at him, and you watch as he tilts his head in slight acknowledgement. Carefully, you lean back onto the counter, grabbing a marshmallow out of the bag and holding it in your hand. “So, which one of you is going to tell me who the voyer was that spied on me that first night in the bathtub?”

Yeosang nearly loses his balance against the doorframe, righting himself in the next moment as he and San share a look.

“You think I didn’t realize it was fucking one of you after that whole 'we can appear in mirrors’ bit?” You quirk a brow, popping the treat into your mouth before pulling another from the bag. Swallowing the sugar in your mouth, you then add, a little louder than before, “I include all of you in this, by the way.”

Immediately, you feel that pure white string humming with vibration. You open your void.

It wasn’t me, I swear, Gorgeous. Wooyoung’s voice echoes through your head, a bit desperate with how he pleads for you to believe him. I stole your panties, but that was it.

I believe you, Woo. The instant relief you can sense from him as you say this has you huffing in amusement before closing off your mind once more.

You shoot an expectant look towards Yeosang, brow raised in question as he practically sputters in his spot, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Well?” You tilt your head slightly at him. “Who was it?”

You hear San laugh from beside you, snatching the marshmallow still held in your hand before raising it to his lips. “You’re staring right at him, Baby. I wasn’t lying when I told you that he’s the biggest voyer of us all.”

You blank, blinking a few times as you watch Yeosang glare at his brother beside you who happily pops the sweet treat into his mouth in the next second. His expression says it all.

A loud sigh escapes your lips as you pull another marshmallow out of the bag, staring at it in contemplation as you rotate it slowly in your hand. Not even a moment later, you freeze, eyes darting up to meet Yeosang’s who stands there as still as a deer in headlights.

“You little shit,” you throw the marshmallow in your hand at him, running after him in the next second as he takes off sprinting down the hall. “Get back here!”

Even more marshmallows are tossed after him as you chase him around the first floor of the house, the soft ammunition bouncing harmlessly off of him each time they meet their target.

A laugh is in his voice as he apologizes, attempting to calm you down. The best part though, is that you both know you’re not really mad at him, just slightly exasperated for the moment. It’s quite amusing to watch, and overhear. At least, for the others.

Ten minutes later and you’ve given up trying to catch him as you’ve ran out of marshmallows to throw. You sternly tell him, and subsequently all of them, not to do something like that, or what San did earlier, again. Of which, they all immediately assure you that they haven’t since you came to them all those weeks ago, and they won’t do so now, anyways.

Well, there go your plans for sleeping early today seeing as you’re now wide awake.

Letting out a small breath through your nose, you make your way towards the cinema room, figuring you can probably watch something to take your mind off of things for now. Plus, it’ll probably make you tired enough to sleep again.

Entering the room a moment later, you notice both Mingi and Jongho sitting on opposite couches seemingly watching a movie. Kuroo appears to be curled up beside Mingi’s legs which are stretched out before him on the chaise portion of the sofa. A fact of which has your lips quirking slightly in the corners as you see the little black ball of fluff raise his head to watch you walk over to where Mingi is sitting in the next moment.

“Are your brothers always this frustrating?” You huff jokingly as you plop yourself onto the couch, laying down immediately so that your head is resting in Mingi’s lap, much to the male’s surprise.

Jongho spares a glance in your direction, a small pout tugging at his lips as he notices Mingi’s typical giddy grin stretching across his features as he looks down at you resting on his lap. That should be him.

“What was your first clue?” Mingi chuckles, finally over his initial shock of you coming right in only to lay yourself in his lap.

“Oh, there were many,” you nod, as if reminiscing the facts.

Not even a moment later, Kuroo stands from his spot, giving a big stretch before crawling over Mingi to settle himself on top of your chest once more. You think it’s starting to become one of his favourite spots.

“Well, hello there, Sir,” you chuckle, giving him a few scratches on his head as he curls into you. “Aren’t you a cutie?”

You continue to coo at the little kitten on your chest, unaware of how both males now gaze at you with such tender love and affection in their eyes. Their hearts swell knowing how comfortable you seem to be in this moment, and they absolutely revel in your presence. Though, none are as smug and happy as Mingi is right now. This is the first time you’ve sat with him, hell, with any of them like this, that he cannot help but to never want to move again. As long as you stay here with him like this, he doesn’t mind at all.

Briefly, the two males share a glance, Mingi shooting a pointed look at the younger male all the while.

Letting out a sigh through his nose, Jongho stands, muttering under his breath about having to go and do something or other. Only, you fail to notice his pout, or the way he pauses slightly in the entranceway, hoping that you’ll get him to stay.

Unfortunately for him, you seem to be too caught up in petting the kitten for the moment. In fact, if Jongho didn’t know any better, he’d say you didn’t even notice him leave. His pout deepens, finally leaving the room and allowing his brother to spend some quality time alone with the one they love most.

“I thought you would have went back to bed,” Mingi’s voice manages to pull you out of your own thoughts as you mindlessly stroke a hand through Kuroo’s fur.

“Can’t sleep,” you shake your head slightly. “I’m awake now.”

“Ah,” Mingi hums, raising his one hand to begin petting Kuroo alongside your own. “I see.”

“Is this okay, by the way?” You look up at him with wide eyes, and Mingi has to strongly resist the urge to lean down and kiss you. “I sort of just invaded your personal space without asking.”

“Of course!” His answer is immediate, an eagerness to his tone. He clears his throat in the next second, composing himself a bit better. “You can lean on me whenever you want. You don’t even have to ask, I really don’t mind.”

“Good,” you grin cheekily, “cause I wasn’t planning on moving any time soon.”

A pleased rumble builds in his chest, fingers twitching as he resists the urge to touch you. All Mingi wants to do is run his fingers over your scalp, maybe massage your head a little bit, and share in that intimacy with you. Except, he doesn’t want to overstep, or push his luck for the moment. You’re already in his lap, and the last thing he wants to do is push you away. Literally.

“Thanks, Min,” you meet his gaze, a soft smile gracing your features as a gentle fondness shines in your eyes. A fondness Mingi has only ever dreamed of being on the receiving end of. “I really do appreciate it.”

“Of course, Starlight,” he returns your smile, heart racing in his chest as he cannot stop himself from brushing a hand over the top of your head affectionately. The way your eyelids flutter closed, a slight hitch in your breath following has a warmth blooming in his chest. “I am always happy to spend time with you, in any and every way I can.”

“I enjoy spending time with you, Mingi,” your eyelids fall closed once more as he continues to massage his fingers over your scalp, you practically humming in content. “You make me happy.”

“Starlight,” Mingi’s voice is but a whisper on his lips, his heart feeling as if it’s about to burst from his chest as nothing but pure love for you floods his veins.

“I’m serious, Min,” you take the time to place your hand over his which has paused momentarily over Kuroo’s body. “I know this might feel like it’s coming out of nowhere, but I really appreciate you and everything you do - everything that you’ve done - for me.”

He smiles softly, intertwining your fingers together on top of Kuroo’s fur. “I will always be here for you, whenever you may need me.”

Slowly, you bring his hand up, placing a gentle kiss onto the skin of his exposed wrist and feeling his whole body shudder beneath your touch. You allow your eyelids to flutter closed once more as you let your lips linger on his skin, feeling the way his fingers tighten their grip ever so slightly in your own.

“I care about you, Min,” you breathe out, the ghost of your breath tickling his skin as his pulse races beneath your touch. “Deeply. Probably more than I should.”

His breath hitches in his throat as he meets your eyes once more, and the tremendous amount of fondness he can see swirling within could not make him any happier than he is in this very moment.

“That’s not a bad thing, Starlight.” He whispers, eyes shining as he looks down at you resting comfortably against his thigh.

You smile faintly, “I never said it was.”

Giving his hand a small squeeze, you settle your interlocked fingers against your stomach, raising your opposite hand so that it rests on top of Mingi’s as well. In an instant, he goes back to gently running the fingers of his other hand over your scalp once more.

You turn your attention to the screen, clearing your throat lightly as a heat rushes to your cheeks. “What are we watching?”

“Oh, this?” Mingi’s lips twitch upwards slightly, noting the change in subject for the time being. “I just put it on for background noise. We can watch whatever you’d like, Starlight.”

“Oh, really, now?” You quirk a brow playfully at him. “And you’re not just saying that for me, are you? If you were watching this earlier, Min, I really don’t mind.”

“Of course not, Starlight,” he shakes his head lightly, eyes crinkling at the sides as he smiles down at you. “I want to watch whatever you want to watch.”

“Well, I want to watch whatever you want to watch, Min,” you stick your tongue out at him teasingly, throwing his own words back at him. “What’s your favourite movie?”

“Oh, no, I know what you’re trying to do here,” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“And just what am I trying to do, Min?” You quirk a brow, repeating the same words that had been spoken to you earlier that night.

“You’re trying to get my favourite movie out of me to put it on.” He replies, as if he’s caught you in your own act.

“Guilty,” you shrug. “Is it wrong to want to know more about My Moonlight?”

The way you can hear his breath hitch in his throat as you say this has a smile tugging at your features.

“Please, won’t you share your favourite movies with me, Min?” The way you’re looking up at him, innocent eyes wide and blinking, has his heart swelling in his chest.

He gives your hand a slight squeeze. “I would love to.”

Seeing your excited expression, lips stretching wide as your eyes crinkle at the sides, has a warmth unlike any other flooding his chest as he sets up his favourite movie on screen. Eagerly, you turn your head as the opening credits appear, settling deeper against his thigh as you make yourself more comfortable for the moment.

Recognition flashes across your features.

“So, you like Bond movies?” Your voice holds nothing but curiosity as you turn your attention back to him for the moment, a small quirk to your eyebrow.

“They’re some of my favourites,” he nods, a grin pulling at his features. Then, he adds with a shrug, “I just think he’s cool.”

“Sure, James Bond is cool as fuck,” you hum in agreement as you meet his eyes. “I still think you’re cooler, though.”

Mingi can hear his heart pounding in his ears as a vibrant blush creeps up his neck and onto his face, that all too familiar giddy smile taking over his features as he squeezes your hand lovingly. “Thank you, Starlight.”

“You’re probably a better spy than him, too,” you observe, eyes briefly meeting his own, “or should I say, assassin?”

A pleased rumble builds in his chest at your praise, sitting a little straighter in his seat for the moment. “You could say that.”

“Not gonna lie, Min,” you bite your bottom lip, almost teasingly. “That’s really hot.”

The growl that escapes him is nothing short of smug, his grip tightening on your hand as he pulls you slightly closer into him.

“I always aim to please,” his voice is low, words but a growl on his lips as his gaze stares transfixed with your own.

“As far as I’m concerned,” the corner of your lips twitches upwards in a smirk as your tongue darts out to wet them, “you haven’t missed yet.”

For a moment, only the sounds from the movie playing in the background can be heard as you both stare deeply into each other’s eyes. Mingi has to suppress the urge to pull you up and into his lap in this very moment, claiming your lips with his like he so often wants to do. Still, he cannot help the way his heart positively flutters at your confession.

The both of you are pulled out of your thoughts as you watch Kuroo stand on your chest, stretching briefly before jumping down and trotting out of the room. A pained noise leaves you as he does so, your free hand moving to grasp over your left breast.

“Kuroo, that hurt, you little shit!” You call after him, a pout pulling at your features.

Mingi cannot suppress the laugh that escapes him, even as you turn your overdramatic pout towards him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll survive.” You chuckle, rubbing at the skin of your chest lightly. “My boob will never be the same, though.”

“I could inspect it for you,” Mingi offers casually, his attention back onto the screen in front of you briefly before he quirks a brow playfully as he glances down at you once more. “You know, make sure everything’s still working properly, and stuff.”

“Mingi!” Your mouth parts in shock, moving to slap his arm playfully with your free hand. “You pervert!”

“Just doing my duty and expressing my concern for you, Starlight,” he chuckles, noticing how you avert your gaze in embarrassment in the next moment.

“Mmhmm,” you scoff, rolling your eyes teasingly. “Just say you want to touch my boobs and be done with it.”

“I mean,” he shoots you a hopeful look out of the corner of his eyes, “if you’re offering.”

“Mingi!” You sound so scandalized as your mouth falls open once more, laughter falling from your lips in disbelief. “Don’t make me bite you.”

“You say that as a threat, Starlight, but honestly, that just sounds like a good time to me,” his voice rumbles out, more chuckles falling from his lips as his eyes flash in amusement.

You open your mouth as if to say something else, before deciding against it. The cutest frustrated pout pulls at your features as you turn yourself onto your side, head still resting against his thigh as you tuck his arm underneath your own, grumbling under your breath about ‘damn horny demons and their damn perverted ways.’

Mingi cannot help but laugh once more, a pleased hum building in his chest as he feels you still laying against him. You even go so far as to settle deeper against his thigh, making yourself more comfortable in this new position as you watch the screen in front of you.

The best part? You still have his arm tucked up against you for the moment, even if you’ve let his hand go. Though, not for long as your opposite arm comes to wrap itself over the back of his own seeing as it’s more comfortable for you in this position.

Then, you do something that Mingi does not expect at all.

Slowly, you begin to move his hand upwards the slightest bit until his entire palm is resting over the skin of your one breast, directly over your heart.

Mingi freezes, the tips of his ears burning bright red as he attempts to control his breathing for the moment. So badly does he want to let his eyes shift, but he holds them off. For now. Especially when he sees you turn to look at him with a sharp gaze in the next moment.

“No funny business,” you warn him, a playfully stern look on your features before turning your attention back to the screen in front of you. “Your hand is warm, that’s all.”

Carefully, Mingi allows his hand to relax against your chest, loving how you keep yours curled securely around his own as his fingers come to settle against your skin. Even despite the barrier of clothing between his palm and your breast, he cannot help the tingles that erupt on the palm of his hand, travelling up his arm and settling comfortably in his chest as another content rumble builds within.

The comforting beat of your heart pulses beneath the skin of his palm, and he feels every breath you take. Each time your heart races, his fingers twitch, the tips subtly pressing firmer into your skin just to be able to feel your pulse better.

Nothing could take this intimate moment away from him right now. The fact that you feel comfortable enough with him, that you trust him enough to hold his palm against your heart like this, practically cupping his hand against your one breast, could not bring him any greater joy than he feels in this moment with you.

For over an hour, the two of you rest like this together, simply basking in each other’s presence as the movie plays on before you. It gets even better when Mingi feels you curling in closer to him at one point, your breathing evening out and signifying that you’ve managed to fall asleep against him.

Mingi only hopes the sound of his own racing heart isn’t loud enough to pull you out of your slumber. Never does he want to wake you, let alone move you from this position with him, for this is everything he could have ever asked for, and so much more. The significance behind this moment surrounds him, flooding his veins at the fact that you are comfortable enough to not only curl up against his leg with his hand resting on your chest, but also fall asleep on him.

A soft smile tugs at his features as he gently runs his free hand over the top of you head once more, feeling you hum subconsciously as he does so. Fuck, if Mingi already wasn’t head over heels in love with you, this moment only proves just how deeply he is.

All too soon, the movie comes to an end, and Mingi almost contemplates putting on another one just so that the two of you can stay in this position for a little while longer. However, he knows he shouldn’t, and that it would be in his best interest to actually help you into bed. It is quite late, and you have been sleeping against him for the better part of an hour already. Besides, he doesn’t want you to strain your neck.

Dragging out his movements for as long as possible, Mingi slowly turns off the system around him. For a moment, he contemplates simply teleporting you to your room, but he figures you’d probably appreciate it more if he let you enter it yourself instead of just inviting himself in, even if it’s just to drop you off in your bed.

Carefully, Mingi begins brushing his hand over the top of your head, voice gentle as he pulls you from your slumber.

“Starlight,” he coos, thumb brushing against your forehead. “Starlight, come on, let’s get you to bed.”

A small groan is heard from you as you return to consciousness for the moment. You stretch lightly, lashes groggily fluttering open as you look up at Mingi through tired eyes. “Moonlight?”

“It’s just me,” he smiles down at you, helping you sit up in your sleep filled haze. “Come on, you’ll be more comfortable in your own bed.”

“Okay,” you mumble, standing to your feet in the next moment, only for your entire body to wobble slightly, practically falling into Mingi as he steps in to support you in the next moment.

Your head practically lulls onto his chest as he wraps an arm around your waist to help support you. He can tell you’re still half asleep, given the way he guides your body out of the cinema room after flipping off the lights, and down the hallway to your own bedroom in the next moment.

Stepping through the threshold, Mingi notices Kuroo already curled up in the centre of your bed, letting out a small chuckle as the kitten raises his head to observe the sudden intruders into your room. At seeing that it’s two familiar faces, Kuroo settles back down into his little ball, mewling softly as Mingi helps you sit on the edge of the bed.

Not even a minute later, Mingi has shifted Kuroo over enough to help you crawl beneath your covers, noting the way your eyes can barely stay open for the moment as you smile up at him from your pillow.

“Thank you, Min,” you mutter, a yawn escaping you in the next moment as you settle deeper into your bed.

“Of course, Starlight,” he smiles down at you, leaning in to place a lingering kiss onto your forehead. “Sleep well, Pretty One.”

Just as he goes to turn away, the feeling of your hand reaching out from beneath your covers and grasping onto his own has him pausing in his movements. Sparing a glance down at the way your hand grasps his own, Mingi can only blink at you with wide eyes, chest swirling with anticipation as his breath catches in his throat.

“Where-“ you inhale a deep breath, “going?” You seem to be fighting against every urge telling you to fall back into your deep slumber for the moment as you give a weak tug on his arm. “Want-“ you yawn once more, “stay.”

Mingi swears his heart is about to leap from his chest at the way it begins thundering beneath his skin. “You want me to stay?”

The vigorous nod you manage to make has a warmth unlike any other blooming within him.

“Alright, Starlight,” he smiles lovingly down at you, noticing how a relaxed, yet pleased all the same, smile stretches across your features. “I’ll stay. Just let me close the door.”

The second nod you give him is much more lax than the first, this one being a simple jerk of your chin as your eyes remain closed for the moment.

In no time at all, Mingi has softly closed the door to your room, moved Kuroo to the end of the bed, and crawled in beside you on the opposite side. Almost immediately after his head hits the pillow, you’re turning to face him, curling yourself into him with your head on his chest and your arms wrapped securely around his waist. Hell, even your one leg gets tossed over one of his own.

“S’okay?” You mumble into the skin of his chest, wiggling slightly closer as you feel him wrap his one arm around your back, the other coming up to gently cradle the side of your face.

“Always, Starlight.” He hums, and he just knows from the way you smile sleepily that you can hear how frantically his heart is racing beneath your head right now. “Are you okay? Are you comfortable?”

“Very.” You nod once more, words slightly more coherent for the moment as you tilt your head upwards to gaze at his face through heavily lidded eyes. “You’re very comfy, Min.” You hum, “and warm.”

The content rumble that reverberates against you has you chuckling faintly, another hum escaping you.

“Pretty Min,” you sigh, curling deeper into him as you rest your chin against his chest in order to continue staring into his eyes. Then, you’re lifting yourself slightly upwards, all the while moving closer into him. “Will you kiss me goodnight?”

Mingi swears that were he not already laying down, he would have collapsed right there on the spot. Instantly, his grip is tightening around your waist, the hand he has gently resting against your cheek gripping onto you a bit firmer as he guides your lips to his own, holding them there for a moment just incase you want to back out still. Once he knows you won’t, his hands begin to shake.

“Always, My Queen,” his voice is but a whisper against your lips before he’s pressing his own to yours gently.

The kiss is soft; tender. Neither of you expect more than what the other is willing to give for the moment, but it conveys all that you want it to. It portrays your feelings: the happiness you feel in this moment, and how comfortable he makes you. Most of all, though, even if it’s just a simple meeting of your lips and nothing more, you both can feel the love each other pours into such a brief moment in time shared with one another.

Pulling away, a soft smile rests on each of your faces. Mingi’s thumb gently strokes over the skin of your cheek as you come to settle against his chest once more.

“Goodnight, Min,” you hum, allowing your eyes to flutter shut once more as the sound of his beating heart begins to lull you back into the world of dreams.

“Goodnight, My Queen.” His voice is barely above a whisper, lips still tingling from the feeling of your own pressed against his mere seconds before.

A moment of silence passes between the both of you as you revel in each other’s arms. That is, until you’re breaking it once more.

“Hey Mingi?” Your soft voice calling his name catches his attention once more, him humming lowly in acknowledgement in the next second. A brief pause. “I love you.” You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat. “I am in love with you.”

Mingi blanks, his entire body feeling as if it’s come alive as your words settle over him. The way he knows you can hear his heart thundering in his chest, especially as you tighten your grip around him in the next moment has an ecstasy that he has not felt in centuries flooding through his veins.

He pulls you in closer, tears dotting the corners of his vision as he places a tender kiss against the top of your head, wanting to revel in this moment for just a little while longer as his emotions overwhelm him. He clears his throat, blinking away his tears and only causing once to slowly trail down the side of his face before it falls, his happiness being absorbed into the material of your pillows.

“My Queen,” his heart positively flutters in his chest as he says this, his emotions consuming him for the moment as he tightens his grip around you, pulling you impossibly closer into his chest. “I love you.”

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broken-risk-assessment-module · 3 months

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The Adaptation That Shall Not Be Named aside, I had an idea for an interesting way you could represent ART in a visual medium: it's cameras.

We know that, in any visual medium, what The Camera (be that literal in film or figurative in animation) chooses to show and focus on is important. Its the primary way the piece of media communicates to its audience, and the framing of a scene tells us a lot about how we're supposed to interpret it. What is on screen and how it's on screen convey authorial intent.

Take all that, and turn "authorial intent" into character expression (in this case, for ART). A conversation between Murderbot and ART that would traditionally be shot-reverse-shot becomes shot-ARTPOVshot, so both shots would be of Murderbot, but one would be from The Camera and one would be from ART. Even though the subject is the same, the difference between them could show us something about ART in the same way a reverse shot shows us something about any other character.

To me its like those shots from a monster's POV in horror movies, where one second you're with your protagonists, the next you're watching them from a far off angle between some blades of grass, shaky cam, ragged breathing. It's a classic, even a cliche, but it does the job of conveying the sense of unsafety, of Something Out There Watching Them, of monstrosity, of something feral and dangerous. All without needing to see the monster. What if that type of shot was all we ever got of a character?

(Also, in all honesty, some of my favourite meta about this series is how it's in conversation with the horror genre. ART and SecUnits being the type of characters that would be The Monster in another story, or from another perspective, is compelling to me, so i'm drawing on that a bit here. The idea of characterising but not visualising ART by taking pages out of horror monster cinematography? I just think it's neat.)

Anyway, you could also do all the sci-fi Augmented Vision stuff with it too. ART POV shots where we watch it pull up a feed tab over the camera feed and replay a section of audio, or check Murderbot's diagnostics, or look at Some Code Or Perhaps A Graph. ART POV shots that are broken into multiple feeds showing different things. ART POV shots that give you the sense of it being textually present without it being physically present.

You could use some of this for Murderbot itself, if you leant into how its drones are an extension of its awareness. You could even use it in a similar way to how Murderbot uses its narration, narrating less when it's upset as well as leaving out major details. What if, when Murderbot is tired of people looking at it or in a more vulnerable headspace, we get more drone POV shots without Murderbot in frame. It's still there, but present in a different way, behind The Camera rather than in front of it.

I think there's potential in using POV shots from ART's cameras to characterise it without visualising it in a traditional way. I think there's potential in using horror movie monster language on ART and Murderbot. I think there's potential in having the cinematography focus on what they're seeing in a way that emphasises the amount of Surveillance both of them are constantly doing.

I think there's potential in a show using The Camera as cleverly as the books use Narration.

#like can you IMAGINE.#“You dislike your function.” [subtle zoom on MB's face to see its reaction]#a human asking MB a person question and rather than the cut close up to see its reaction #the camera cuts away so its no longer even in frame #what does MB sending its GovernorModulePunishment.exe to ART look like from ARTs POV???#that one time MB shut down after ART probed too much and ART just waited until it woke up.#its just a ART cam timelapse of MB lying Unmoving for three hours #do you see the vision???? am i crazy????#murderbot #the murderbot diaries #art/perihelion #murderbot meta #stuff i made

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slasher-male-wife · 2 months

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Horror characters with an s/o in a band head canons

Sorry for barely posting. I say this every time I post but I've been very busy lately with a lot of stuff but I'm still trying to find time to write time for y'all. So for these head canons I'm just putting a blanket statement of the reader is in a rock band. Also I'm looking into writing for fem readers as I explore my own gender identity. But reader's gender isn't specified in this.

Includes: Corey Cunningham, Tiffany Valentine, Amanda Young, Billy Loomis, and Martin Mathias

Content includes: Possessive behavior, murder mentions, implied murder, mentions of saw traps in Amanda's section, brief 'stalking' mentions, not proof read

Corey Cunningham

Pre-Michael he's going to feel a little awkward going into a show that you're playing at. If you play something like shoe gaze or some kind of softer rock music he won't feel as awkward going into to see you preform but if you play harder rock or even metal he's going to feel very out of place.

Pre-Michael Corey would also try his hardest to learn about whatever instrument you play for the band or if you sing he'll try his best to learn about singing and the best way to do it without hurting your vocal cords. He'll do his research on what you do because he wants to be the best supportive boyfriend he can be.

Pre-Michael Corey won't really get jealous of people cheering you on or being supportive of your music. He understands that they just enjoy your music and they want to show their support for you. After all, he's the one who gets to go back stage with you and to all the practices. He's really the lucky one.

Post Michael however is a different story. Now he's more open to whatever music you play. Even if it's harder music like metal or some kind of hard/alternative rock he's down for it. I wouldn't say he'd get in a mosh pit or anything like that anytime soon.

When he's post Michael he'll still keep knowledge about whatever instrument you play or how to take care of you if you sing. He'll become a little obsessive about it, going with you to every band practice or he'll watch you from somewhere else while you practice. Same goes for when you're at home. If you don't want him there you won't know that he's there.

Post Michael Corey is also a little more protective when it comes to your fans. Now he knows that you won't have that many fans that push boundaries with you, but any that try to push boundaries with you on this are going to pay the price.

Tiffany Valentine

Tiffany (in my opinion) is a gothic rock, post punk, dark wave, other goth music genres kind of girl. So if you play any of those kinds of music genres she's more than happy to go to one of your shows and support you there.

She will happily tell anyone listening that her lovely s/o is in the band playing on stage and that you're super talented, and it doesn't matter if they care about it or not, she's proud of you and she cares.

She might not know much about music but I can promise you that she's going to try her best to help you with practicing whatever instrument you play or whatever you need help with that's music related.

If you want her to go to your band practices with you she's all for that. She's happy to sit in and listen to whatever you're working on, it's not like she's going to tell anyone what you're doing, she'd never do you dirty like that.

She WILL be dressing up for all of your shows. It doesn't matter how big or small they are she needs to represent you and how well you treat her. She also just really likes getting dressed up to go out and this is an excuse to do that.

If you have band merch she will also wear it. Even if it's just some shirt with your band name or logo on it then she'll wear it while she sleeps or some other time. She prefers more feminine clothes so she might go as far as to paint on your band name and or logo onto some old dress she has just for fun.

Amanda Young

Amanda is a metalhead plain and simple. She likes harder music and if you play harder music she'll be happy to go to your show. If you play slower music, she hopes you won't take offense, but she might not go to all of your shows.

She might not go to all of your shows anyway because she's busy with her jigsaw work but she'll try to see at least a couple of your shows every time you have some.

I feel like if you're stuck on lyrics or where to go with a song she'll be there to help you with it. She might not be the most knowledgeable on music but she's going to try her best to help you get out of that rut.

If you need a song name she'll suggest something based off a trap she's made or just a trap in general. "What about 'knob twister'?" "What about Venus Fly Trap?" But she'll be more subtle with it if you're unaware of her being a jigsaw apprentice.

She won't take any of the other apprentices to your shows, she'll honestly keep you pretty separate from her 'work life' outside of telling John about you. If any of them somehow find out about you and your band she will get very defensive of you and she will swear if Hoffman ever goes to one of your shows she's going to put him in a reverse bear trap.

She won't get super jealous of fans of your music unless they start pushing boundaries. She gets people being fans of your work and wanting to meet you and stuff, but if they end up getting a little too far 'into' your music she may or may not put them in a trap.

Billy Loomis

It's the 90's and just like look at him, he's probably going to be into that slower, more shoegaze kind of stuff, he's the og male manipulator in more ways than one.

He'll try to be open to the kind of music that you play but if it doesn't interest him he probably won't be going to every single one of your shows. He'll make up excuses about having to do stuff for school and whatever.

But don't get it twisted, if anyone tries to make fun of you for the kind of music you play they're gonna meet ghostface real soon. Just because he might not be into your music it doesn't mean that other people are allowed to be mean to you about it.

This also applies to fans of your band who try and get a little too close to you for Billy's comfort. He understands that you're going to have fans of your music but that doesn't mean people are going to just get away with being obsessed with you, that's his job god damn it!

But if he's being as possessive as he usually is he'll have Stu go to one of your shows for him just to check things out and make sure nothing bad is happening there. He doesn't think you're going to cheat on him, he trusts you, he just doesn't trust other guys, unless it's Stu.

He'll play down how much he really does care about your music. He tries to keep up this kind of 'whatever' 'cool guy' persona but he really does care about your music and he might stalk you a little bit and just watch you at your band practices for fun.

#corey cunningham x reader #tiffany valentine x reader #amanda young x reader #billy loomis x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction

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grayve-mistake · 10 months

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this is just kind of a big tangent but like I fucking hate when nerd ass losers see a game with even vague similarities to another game and go "ERMMM. HOW ORIGINALL (SARCASTIC). THIS IS JUST ANOTHER GAME IN THE STUPID TREND OF-" and then they list every genre/label under the sun to try and discredit the game as unoriginal by comparing it to other games. 90% of the time they haven't even played the game they're complaining about. they just see pixel art and get angry ig.

like look at this image. look at this and tell me it's not just alphabet soup. what do half of these words even mean. congrats on discovering what a genre is I guess?????????? good for you?????? do you want a fuckin award or something???? a little handclap??? shall I pour you a little glass of wine for being oh so smart and sophisticated for figuring out that Things Can Have Little Similarities Sometimes?????? just say that 7 years later you're still bitter that undertale got popular and leave oh my god "quirky dialogue" oh I'm sorry did you want your dialogue boring and soulless yeah let me just remove the personality from the game. here's your Nothing Burger I hope you're happy. "pixel art" oh so i guess like almost every game that came out in the 80s and 90s is actually just part of a so-called "2010s-2020s trend". These people genuinely think earthbound and celeste are "Basically The Same". it's not even an rpg. You had to throw in platformers in your disgusting word smoothie because otherwise you couldn't even find any real similarities besides "has a story and contains pixels". they think the psychological horror game Omori is just Undertale 2. yeah sorry guys Super Fuckin Mario Brothers is part of the quirky rpg metroidvania fjhksdgjhlkfgsdhkfgh-like diarrhea trend. cant play it now or you're cringe and bad. do you people ever get TIIIRRREEDDDDD. DO YOU EVER ENJOY THINGS. ON THEIR OWN MERIT. DO YOU EVEN GIVE THINGS A CHANCE. YOU'RE NOT SPECIAL FOR NOT LIKING THINGS YOU'RE BORING AND ANNOYING AS FUCK. I'm so fucking done

#im not gonna even unpack the meme format it's literally just “haha fat person said the thing so it's bad and cringe” like grow the fuck up #rant #this is just the notlikeothergirls thing except it's mostly grown ass men doing it so it's seen as more acceptable somehow #like “ERMMM I DONT LIKE POPULAR GAMESSSS... IM TOO COOL FOR THAT...” no one likes you #if they played the games and decided they weren't for them that'd be one thing. I can understand that.#not everyone is going to like the same things I like and I can live with that. that's fine.#but when you look at a game you so obviously haven't even touched #and decide it's terrible based on Nothing (aka Because It's Marginally Successful/Popular)#and then try to excuse that by somehow connecting it back to every other game you don't like no matter how big of a stretch it takes #that's shitty!#just say you don't wanna play it and leave people who like it alone #you don't have to moralize your taste in media #omori #celeste #earthbound #undertale #metroid #rpg #rpgmaker #indie game #indie games #indie rpg #games #gaming #video games

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darkcircles4lyfe · 10 months

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Love in Chaos

The way chapter 393 seized me from the inside out, brought me to my knees, smiling with fierce glee—it was all the proof I needed. All at once, a checklist I didn’t even know I was keeping started getting all its boxes ticked. I’ll admit that for some time, I haven’t been sure exactly how Toga’s story should be handled for her to get the care, nuance, and dignity she deserves. So I’ve been resigned, waiting to see what Horikoshi has to say about it. I didn’t know until I saw it, but I can tell we’re on exactly the same page.

This fight between Ochako and Toga—or should I say Himiko, since ya know, they’re both on a first name basis now—it’s a kind of breaking point for the overarching narrative and its themes. Here is where the big questions about hero/villain society are not only asked, but answered. Himiko, more than any of the other main villains, was branded with that label as far back as she can remember, without her having done anything except exist. Thus, she carries the weight of their society’s problems and becomes a symbol of the injustice in prejudice and fear, the brutal agony of being rejected by the world. I’ve maintained this resolve about the story for a long time: I will not be satisfied with an ending that constitutes a return to normal, or even a slightly amended normal. I know that it would be a disservice to Himiko if she were made to fit into society again, whether that be in death or reform or containment. Society has to change for her. After 393, I can tell that Horikoshi knows this too.

It’s the way Ochako steps up to this conversation so boldly and positions herself on Himiko’s side. When Himiko dismisses her words as fickle, claims she’ll go back on them and do horrible things to punish her according to hero society, Ochako comes right back and says no, this isn’t about what you’ve done, this is about you. I see you. I see your beautiful smile and I want to protect it.

Throughout her life, Himiko has not been treated like a real person, so of course this is what she needs. No lecture on morals could disarm her the way acceptance can. It’s also extremely refreshing and reassuring to see Himiko being taken seriously. I’m so incredibly excited for Ochako to accomplish such a completely transgressive act of unconditional love against this harsh world. I could stare in awe of the panels in this chapter for hours, how they’re drawn at the exact intersection of beauty, pain, and honesty. Grotesque violence and elegance. Power and vulnerability. I was so overcome that, for a while, I failed to register a crucial implication.

Enter: The Female Vampire Carmilla

She is referenced merely in passing, but as a rejected villain name for Himiko, speaks volumes. It’s difficult for me to find the words to summarize… perhaps you’ve heard by now that Carmilla is a gothic horror novella about a lesbian vampire. THE lesbian vampire, in fact—the one who popularized the trope. Knowing this, it is simple enough to apply the story of Laura and Carmilla in parallel to Ochako and Himiko, and register it as direct proof of the dynamic’s sapphic undertones being acknowledged and intentional. I mean. Look at them.

Yeah. But that’s not all. That isn’t what really makes it noteworthy. Put in context: Himiko has been called a soulless inhuman vampire since childhood, and shunned for it. To her, this or any villain name would be a reminder of her lack of agency in identity. Add to this the overall themes of 393 I just described, and suddenly it becomes clear that Himiko is set in contrast against much of what Carmilla, as a fearful narrative about the supernatural, represents.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me provide some details about Carmilla for those who aren’t familiar. The story was written in 1872 by Sheridan Le Fanu, and belongs to a genre characterized by a revival of Gothic aesthetics in service of providing mystery, intrigue, and suspense to a very Victorian expression of fear. On top of that, Carmilla directly influenced Bram Stoker’s Dracula, and set the precedent for many vampire portrayals to come. Many female vampire characters reference her at least in their name, and the novella has been adapted and reinterpreted countless times. Because of this, it is admittedly difficult to be sure of Horikoshi’s familiarity with the original, or pinpoint any other potential influence he may have picked up from another adaptation. One could quite literally write a whole book about the many iterations and widespread impact of Carmilla. This is why, however, I believe I can confidently say that Himiko being compared to a female vampire has implications that are felt no matter one’s familiarity with the origin of the trope. Certain things are baked into the definition through generations of media. The female (lesbian) vampire implies predation, deception, lust, a danger to innocent young women. She represents an inhuman desire that must be vanquished.

In the novella, the main character Laura becomes a fast, intimate friend to Carmilla, a strikingly beautiful and captivating young lady who has suddenly appeared in her life. Laura admires and loves Carmilla dearly, but feels conflicted in moments where Carmilla is overcome by a desire that is explicitly compared to that of a lover. She talks of blood, death, sacrifice, and unity all while holding her close and kissing her. Whether or not this is hot, or whether Laura reciprocates any desire is, I guess, up to interpretation. But one thing is for sure: the ending of the story is not in Carmilla’s favor. I’d argue it’s not in Laura’s favor either. Look, I was an English major. I’m very familiar with discussions along the lines of “is ___ gay?” and “is ___ a sympathetic portrayal of ___ ?” It’s definitely gay, but the rest is unclear. There might be a tangent to go on about how Le Fanu’s complicated relationship with religion may have informed his characterization of General Spielsdorf and the other men who hunted down Carmilla’s grave and destroyed her. Regardless, there is narrative injustice in the way Laura is removed from these events, sent home and only told about what happened later. She loses agency. Her narrations become distant and clinical. In the very end, she describes being plagued by visions of Carmilla, sometimes as her beloved companion, and sometimes as a fearful monster. To me, this represents the lack of closure she has, either to reconcile these two sides of her, or mourn her loss.

There is also so much we’ll never know about Carmilla herself. The finality of her condemnation silences the multifaceted character that was only partially revealed to us. There is an inferred humanity to her, a self-awareness, a true romanticism, that gets dismissed by the people’s understanding of what a vampire is: a deception.

Keep in mind this tragedy. Fast forward through countless vampire portrayals to the present, to Himiko. What a contrast indeed. Remember, she does not want to be called “Carmilla,” or “Vampire.” To make such a reference in a chapter that is showcasing Ochako’s acceptance of Himiko implies that the trope is being broken. It is as if Laura were to go running to Carmilla’s grave herself, throw her own body over her in protection, and shun everyone else’s superstition and desire for vengeance.

(footnote: the above is supposed to say “Himiko-chan” but you know who is a buttface)

Here’s the kicker: since female vampires are so closely tied to negative and predatory portrayals of lesbians, this humanization of Himiko also suggests that her queerness will likewise be treated openly and sympathetically, because there no longer exists an allegory that could be used for dismissing it. Ochako has already made monumental assertions in this chapter. By saying she admires her openness and envies her beautiful smile, and by presenting complete vulnerability in offering her blood, she swiftly separates herself from the lifetime of persecution Himiko has dealt with. It all represents so much more than those who mistakenly call it “yuri pandering” could hope to understand. This is the real deal.

So what is this talk about romance they’re supposed to have? I firmly believe whatever Ochako says, it has to be a very surprising revelation, for both Himiko as well as us, the audience. Otherwise all the hype and mystery makes no sense. If Ochako has something so important to say, it can’t be to confirm Himiko’s assumptions. Whenever I try to dissect the exact possibilities, I get hopelessly tangled up in semantics, but ultimately I just hope to get Ochako’s perspective in full, especially as it relates to what other people think of her.

Actually, I had an idea while writing this. I saw someone on twitter (I think jokingly) bring up the All Might doll, like oh god, what if it comes up again. Ok but listen. There’s a LOT of potential symbolism in the token from Izuku that Ochako has kept being a doll of All Might specifically. We all know it calls to mind Izuku’s emulation of All Might, which resulted in the aspects of Izuku that Ochako herself admired. We can also easily infer that during the mission to rescue Izuku, Ochako saw the darker side of these traits. Okay, so here’s another wrinkle: All Might, as a near mythical figure, represents hero society. He’s the hero archetype, an upholder of the status quo, “peace,” and his weakening under all the pressure implies a flawed system.

Nighteye predicted All Might’s death, but also admitted that a strong enough collective will can change the course of his predictions. Ochako sites Nighteye’s own death as an origin for her beginning to question who exactly in this world needs saving. If you know my meta, you know that I believe All Might needs to die in symbol only. Right now, Ochako is throwing out an awful lot of things heroes take for granted. Things everyone takes for granted. The outcome of this fight could be a turning point in the war that completely changes the tone. If Ochako is to accomplish this by way of an intimate talk of romance, well…

Bye-bye, All Might!

#for the record I love toshinori so much #bnha 393 #bnha manga #mha #toga himiko #uraraka ochako #togachako #meta #lin speaks #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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artbyblastweave · 2 months

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Have you got any opinions of Left 4 Dead 1/2's cast of survivors?

One thing I've been thinking about a lot lately is when a work of apocalyptic fiction treats the end of the world as a site for personal reinvention. On the one hand it's potent theming, because the questions of how you choose to behave when utterly freed from existing societal constraints, and how you reconstruct your sense of identity after total context collapse, are sort of inherently packaged in with the premise. On the other hand you're kind of playing with fire, because if you treat the apocalypse as something primarily liberatory or empowering for the protagonists I personally often find it offputting. Congratulations! Your personal growth was purchased at the low low price of the death of billions! You can get away with that kind of thing if you take it in a lighter direction and maintain, like, a deliberately mock-misanthropic tone, or play up the inherent comedy of a person whose life sucks so much that the apocalypse represents a step up- but it's a knifes-edge to walk. I've found that a satisfying synthesis is examine that act of personal reinvention as a coping mechanism, a story that the person doing it is telling about themselves in order to deal with the horror of their surroundings. Zone One by Coulson Whitehead and Rot and Ruin by Jonathan Maberry are pieces of zombie fiction that I think use this lens in an interesting way. I believe that Left 4 Dead is close-to-unique among Valve properties in that they actually released a close-to-standalone self-contained narrative starring game's the principal cast, in the form of The Sacrifice*, and I feel like the comic explored this dynamic in interesting ways, because the four survivors exist on a distribution between "Apocalypse-as-New-Lease-On-Life" and "Turbofucked," in ways that pointedly affect their behavior and outlook.

Louis, the eternal optimist, Certified Gamer, still clad in white-collar garb two weeks into the apocalypse, is revealed to have been the one of the four who had the most going for him before the outbreak, a middle-class job with a well-defined upwards trajectory. His dogged insistence that things will eventually be okay is implicitly informed by how badly his life got upended by all his coworkers going nuts and trying to eat him. On the flip side, though, the comic portrays him as having had the fewest actual interpersonal connections- the only person he interacts with in his flashback is his coworker Ray, and that interaction is defined by how Ray is nowhere near ride-or-die enough for Louis to risk coming into the office at his request. He barely registers that the guy in the bathroom who attacks him is a zombie. Make of this what you will.

Zoey was a step down on the ratchet-she was floundering, but it was a comfortable flounder that's likely familiar to a lot of us. Struggling in college, no direction in life, a would-be creative struggling to turn her interest in fiction into an actual career. Parents separated and at each other's throats- but she had parents, had support, had options even as she was treading water. The apocalypse is superficially her call to adventure, letting her live out the fiction she immersed herself in before the outbreak, and you see glimmers of bravado stemming from that- but that same genre immersion is directly tied to her decision to put down her father before his immunity was apparent, because they thought that they were living out a trope that they aren't. She embodies the gap between the nerdy apocalypse fantasy and the horror of actually living through that.

On the other end of things you have Francis, who's downright gleefully cynical about the apocalypse- marrying the assertation that they're all going to die, and that nothing will ever be okay again, with the claim that the apocalypse as the best thing that ever happened to him. Before the outbreak Francis had a strong social circle but was also slated for prison; the apocalypse eliminated the immediate threat of jail, but his pre-outbreak social circle very pointedly isn't around anymore, in a way he's kind of talking circles around when he brings it up with Zoey; he mainly brings them up in the context of contrasting them with how competent Bill is at navigating the apocalypse, and you can infer that his initial attempt to treat the end of the world like an opportunity for a party didn't turn out so hot. He very badly wants to be the guy who had nothing to lose, the guy who's having a blast, he wants to inhabit that role, but there's an undercurrent of performativity there.

Then you get to Bill, who genuinely had nothing, in a way that inform his post-outbreak behavior in really interesting ways. He had no friends, no family, no purpose, and he wasn't in particularly good health. The apocalypse is, in many ways, straightforwardly a step up from his previous situation, in ways that isn't true of any of the others- now he has friends, a goal, a reason to keep moving. The Sacrifice is interested in how that affects his decision making, for better or for worse- he's myopic, invested in the well-being of an extremely tight in-group at the expense of others, monomaniacally good at fighting the infected in a way that even the other survivors find somewhat unnerving. There's a sense in which the brave new world is Bill-shaped. Admittedly the brave new world killed him dead. But it killed him dead in a significantly more badass way than he otherwise would have died, and on some level that was probably his preference. (I don't really go to Dead By Daylight, but I'm tickled pink by their implication that getting to do asymmetric survival horror multiplayer forever is sort of like a Valhalla situation for him.)

#left 4 dead #thoughts #meta #asks #no thoughts on the l4d2 crew at this time #ask

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storiesbyrhi · 11 months

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Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence, swearing, animal death, no beta, warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: Bury a candle and give allegiance. 2740 words.

1986

Time had passed since you’d delivered the final line of the spell. Nine minutes, to be precise. You’d said the words, then got off your knees to sit more comfortably on the tiles, your back to the wall. Edward sunk into the bath, letting the water come up to his shoulders.

“We’re almost done,” you whispered. “You have to bury the candle.”

As he dried off and dressed, you retrieved a glass from the kitchen while making a mental note to add clothes to your shopping list.

Carrying the glass of the powered bathwater, you lead the way outside, through Forest Hills, and out to the small wooded area you’d first crossed paths with him. A few neighbours watched you as you went by, but most were busy packing to leave Hawkins.

The vampire dug a small hole and placed the candle in it, then took the glass of water and poured that on top. He covered it up and stood by your side.

“It’s done,” you confirmed. “How do you feel?”

He considered the question for a moment. “The same,”

“You don’t remember anything else?”

Shaking his head, he looked at you. “I’m sorry,”

“What? What are you sorry for?”

“I wasn’t your burden to bear,” he offered. “You do not owe me anything.”

You felt you did though. It was a deep and profound feeling. One that somehow surpassed everything you knew to be true about vampires. It surpassed witch allegiance, seeing you undo another’s hex. And it surpassed both your innate need to protect living creatures and your oath to harm none.

There had to be a reason, but searching for the meaning was a dangerous road to go down. It was a luxury too, one that Hawkins would not afford you.

“We should go home,” you said. “We have a lot to talk about.”

…

1836

“You would never tell me a lie, would you?” You fluttered your eyelashes.

“Me? Deceive you? My beloved little witch? Never.” Although there was levity in his voice, you knew he was being truthful.

“So, then you can confess to me. You can transform into a bat!”

Eddie laughed. “I promise you, I cannot,”

“But the stories!”

“And what of the witches in the stories?” he counterargued, rolling onto his side.

It was past midnight and you were lying together beneath an old oak tree. The ground was still warm, fall not yet prickling the dark with a cool change.

Eddie reached out to gently touch your face. His skin was cold, but it made you flush hot.

“Vampires are very boring,” you teased.

“Imagine my good fortune then, being bound to bore for all eternity, only to find you.”

A day had not passed by since that first kiss without you sneaking off after dark to meet with Eddie. The sun has risen and set no less than sixty days.

In the moonlight you listened to Eddie tell you how he came to be a vampire, how he was damned, amoral, and evil like the others. You knew he was different. It did not matter what he had done, it mattered what he was doing. He hadn’t hunted any of the villagers who lived unaware of such beasts, nor the Native Americans who knew a monster when they saw one.

You knew there were things Eddie kept hidden. How, sometimes he ushered you back to the village earlier than usual, and he’d hunt elsewhere. Inhuman speed allowing him to travel great distances quickly. No, your vampire was not on an animal diet. It was something left unspoken between you.

Instead, you spoke about the places you had been and how the world use to be. You theorised about the future, about how the 1800s would end and what the 1900s would look like. “I cannot picture you in the year 2000,” you said as you sat up.

“No?”

You crossed your legs and Eddie shuffled to lay his head in your lap. As you began to braid sections of his long hair, you tried to imagine it. “Well, we change with the world…”

“I can change with the world,” he argued.

“Can you? How many days did it take for you to answer to Eddie,”

“But I answer to it now,”

“True. You do.” You leaned down to place a kiss on his forehead. He smiled, his upper canines slotting neatly into the lower. “Would you answer to it when you’re in your bat form?”

Eddie moved quick, had your fingers between his teeth. There was no pressure, you could take them back at any moment. He looked up at you with his dark eyes, something feral and held in reserve glinting through. He let your hand go.

“If I could do that, would I not be hidden in your pocket all the time?”

Giggling, you nodded. “You would. I would like that,”

“No bats. No… garlic undoings…” He tried to think of all the falsehoods. “Nor beds of soil from the grounds of our deaths. Nor hawthorn. Nor insight into your thoughts…”

It was terrifying, how little of the stories were true. What did that leave known about the vampires?

“Can I protect the humans by telling them not to invite anyone over the threshold of their homes? By arming them with blessed water?”

Eddie’s smile dropped. “Protect them from me?”

“No… Not you. But-”

“My kind… The colony…” He sat up and looked at you.

“I will not feel guilt for this,”

“I wouldn’t expect a witch to feel guilt about anything. The spoils of the righteous,”

“Eddie,” you whispered, reaching out for him.

He flinched, at first. A darkness settled over him. He was still in absolute.

“The colony – are they your family?” you asked.

“If they are, will you tell your coven to stop the hunt?”

It was the first acknowledgment of both Eddie’s colony and the coven’s hunt for them.

A vampire’s warning always comes in the death of livestock. Vicious killings of cows and lamb. They had been infrequent, not enough to alarm the farmers. The witches wove fact with fiction to keep the peace. It had been three seasons since the first lost sheep.

That is why you weren’t surprised by the vampire when you first crossed paths.

There was a limit to how many animals a witch would let die so brutally. Eddie’s colony had yet to reach it. Likewise, they had not brought harm to any townspeople. Until those conditions were met, the witches only prepared for the hunt. They sharpened their weapons and perfected their spells. They would lay in wait until then.

“There will be no hunting unless-”

“When,” Eddie interrupted. “When they come upon your village like a plague or Pestilence himself in the night, it won’t matter if they are kin.”

Your eyes had welled up. “No,” you agreed as a tear slipped down your cheek. “I will protect the humans.”

Eddie nodded slowly, then took your hand and let you cup his face. He closed his eyes. “Little witch. I envy your world of absolutes. And I love you so.”

When he took you in his arms, you held on tight, refusing to let him go until the first songs of the morning birds sang misery.

…

1986

“So, I keep trying to call you… Edward… in my head, but it’s not sticking,” you admitted as you checked the temperature of the water in the kettle, putting it back on the stove to reach boiling point. “So, maybe we’ll need that nickname after all,”

“Nickname?”

“Yeah, I mean, you do look like an Edward. But the only people that would go by Edward now are, um, the elderly, and while me and you both technically count… let’s try to keep you as inconspicuous as possible.”

Back inside the trailer, the vampire had sat on the couch, tried his hand at looking normal. It was coming back to him, how to move in this body and how to find his words.

While you mentally added ‘nice tea’ to your ever-growing shopping list, you continued on your train of thought. “But, you’re lucky, because Edward, Ed, Eddie, easy. Take your pick.”

He only took a few seconds. “Eddie,” he decided, waiting on you for approval.

“Eddie…” You looked at him from the kitchen bench, how he was watching you intently. Nodding once you turned away as the kettle whistled.

With your mug of tea warming your palms, you sat on the couch next to Eddie. Pulling your legs up and crossing them, you shuffled around to face him.

“You should go first… Have you remembered anything else?”

“No,” he said quietly. “I… I’ve been here for many, many years,”

“Longer than the humans?”

“No… The humans have always been here. Not as they are now though. They were once… quiet. And they…” Eddie struggled to explain how it used to be. “They have changed the land,”

“They have,” you replied. “They used to know better. They… They know, now. It’s like they’ve forgotten to care.”

Eddie could hear the sadness in your voice. Did he feel empathy… or was it simple recognition? “You love them,” he stated.

“I did once. I don’t know if love is what I would call it anymore. It’s complicated. Do you remember that about witches? That we watch over the humans?”

Eddie’s gaze wandered up and away as he searched through his mind. “Maybe… Yes… That is why we…” As his sentence failed, you saw an expression creep over his features. It was the first time he looked truly vampiric. It wasn’t a smile. It was a knowing smirk. “We are not friends,” Eddie finished, his eyes snapping back to yours suddenly.

“Do you remember what happened to the vampires?” The need to assert yourself as not only a healing witch, but as a dangerous thing too bubbled up in you.

“No,”

“There are no more. Not anywhere on this earth.”

Eddie’s head tilted and his little grin fell. “Vampires cannot be killed,”

“You couldn’t. Not a stake through the heart or even sunlight. But we figured it out,”

“We?”

The tension was rising but you held steady, refusing to feel regret or fear. “Witches spent eons hunting vampires who hunted humans. Covens got so close to working out how to properly kill… them. But it was my coven, here in Hawkins, that did it. It was more than a lifetime ago, but it still feels… recent, I guess.”

Eddie’s stare was unblinking. “Clever witches,” he whispered. “I was… hexed… before that then,”

“Yeah. They would have just killed you otherwise,” you confirmed.

Eddie remembered to blink. He nodded. “And what year is it now?”

“1986.”

There was knowledge stored in his cells. Small pieces of information in his biology, but not much. Just… vampire. Blood. Apex, cannot be killed. Walk by moonlight. Don’t trust a witch. The thought led Eddie to his first question for you.

“Why help me?”

“I… I didn’t know what you were. I thought you were just an injured bat,”

“But you didn’t stop… helping me. When you knew.”

You opened your mouth to speak but got caught wordless. Shrugging, you shook your head. “I don’t know.”

Eddie wanted to force more out of you. He wanted to know what would possess a witch to resurrect an already defeated enemy. He wanted to know what it felt like to hand over the dog. He wanted to know how often hexes were reversed.

The wetness of your eyes and the shaky breath you were trying to even, they made him settle for an ‘I don’t know.’

“Next question. Do you know about what’s happening here? The evil?”

“It has been here for a long time,” Eddie answered with a slow nod.

You cocked your head. “Have you seen him?”

“Him?”

“Uh, the humans call him Vecna. He’s something else. Not like us,” you told him.

Eddie smiled. “How are we alike?”

“Oh… I guess… I guess we’re not. I meant, he was somehow made, by other humans… But… so are vampires… So was the first vampire,”

“The evil is like me,”

“No. It’s different.” It was getting under your skin, the comparison between Eddie and Vecna. Why though? “I wish I knew more. But whatever doorway was opened, it’s not one witches can see through. All I know is that there is world beyond this one and he hides there. He travels through the mind and has power over people. He’s already killed people and hurt more.”

Eddie thought of the white long-limbed creature with its face of teeth. The monster made of humans, how it snapped and crushed. They had been visible from the sky; he’d tailed the chaos as a bat. Vecna had never shown himself like those things had.

“Where are the witches?” Eddie asked.

“They are… not coming. As far as we can tell, Vecna doesn’t know about us. Or anything supernatural beyond his own world. The coven fears if he discovers it, he’ll either try to drain our power or kill us all. Or both,”

“And what of the humans?”

Despite the questions being entirely valid, you felt interrogated. “They have won before. More than once,”

“And if they fail?”

You sucked in your bottom lip and chewed while you formulated a response. “The coven will intervene… They won’t let him go further than Hawkins,”

“You do not sound convinced,” Eddie observed.

“I will intervene. I will protect the humans.”

Eddie’s instincts told him that witches were steadfast in their conventions. Virtuous and stubborn. Yet, every rule you had, you’d seemed to have already broken or committed to doing so. He couldn’t remember if he was meant to feel. Was he meant to like you, to show preference at all? You were so flawed though and it endeared him to you.

“If it comes to that, I will help you…” He didn't say your name. It didn't feel right on his tongue. There’s something else there though, living on the tip of it. It’s lost. Trapped in the memories your spell couldn’t bring back.

You nodded and gave him a forced smile. Vecna hurt to think about. The children hurt to think about; Erica Sinclair at age eleven.

“Something called me here,” you said suddenly. You were caught off guard by your own admission. “To Hawkins. My coven thinks it’s… not haunted, but something like that. None of us have been back since we left. But when Vecna did what he did, I started to hear it,”

“The calling,”

“Yeah. When prolific events happen, it unsettles everything. What he did to the earth and to his victims… It could have changed something. Let me hear something I couldn’t before.” Part of you was simply thinking out loud, a stream of consciousness that finally had an audience in Eddie. And, an attentive audience at that.

Eddie had relaxed back into the couch like he’d grown up on that very one. Every minute he spent reinhabiting his old body was comfort. He was watching you still, those dark eyes trained on your changing expressions and lively movements.

“When you hear it, does it have a voice?” he asked you.

“Almost? It almost did… Just like there were almost words. But… it was… I don’t know. Like someone else’s thoughts in my head. But it stopped when I got here. I kind of sold this whole thing to myself as following that voice. That it had to mean something. But now it’s gone. And I don’t know if it was him… or…”

“Me,” Eddie finished for you.

You nodded. “But you… you didn’t,”

“I don’t have magic,” he reminded you. “And I was… just a bat,”

“Right,” you said slowly, trying to recognise the emotion on his face. “Just a bat…”

“I owe the voice my gratitude,” Eddie said, dipping his head and smiling. “And, maybe… Vecna… He will rue the day that voice dared to call to this little witch.”

It exploded across Eddie’s body. A prickly warmth that responded to the combination of those two little words. He watched your pupils expand at his words. Your blood smelt rich. Thick. Hot.

It was entirely beyond either of your understanding. What had happened. What was happening. And what hadn’t yet transpired. Yet, for a fleeting moment on the couch of a run down trailer, you and the vampire were of one mind.

End Note: No, it won't be as easy as the unhexing spell bringing back Eddie's memories. And now, there is a looming threat in Vecna that may sidetrack this little witch's mission to turn back time. Thank you for reading. I am frothing at all the predictions of what is going to happen and what is going to be revealed. Some of you are hot and some are cold. xo Rhi

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