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jooniyah · 4 years

Text

Poison Apple

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Fem Reader ; Min Yoongi x Fem Reader

AU: Yandere!au, Moneylender!Taehyung

Genre: Angst, Mature, Smut

Warnings: NON CON, Hard Yandere behavior, forced witness, kidnapping, implied forced pregnancy, emotional abuse, violence, character death, voluntary starvation, degradation and physical abuse, manipulation, profanity, smut, blood, knives, guns, and murder.

Word count: 22.35k

I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I waterd it in fears, Night & morning with my tears: And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night. Till it bore an apple bright.

- William Blake

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and I do not condone any of the actions of the characters in this fiction. This is to be treated as pure fantasy, and should not be misconstrued to be demeaning the idols in any way. If any of the above warnings cause you discomfort, kindly refrain from reading.

This is a non-consensual setting, please proceed only if you are not triggered by the warnings. I repeat, please be sure to read all the warnings carefully.

Author’s note: This is the longest fic I’ve ever written. I’ve been mulling it over in my head for years now. Please don’t come at my throat, it is non-con yandere. Enjoy!

*****

“Baby?” you chirped, watching your husband absent-mindedly stare at the windows. You huffed, turning off the stove and brandishing the ladle at him.

“Honey? You didn’t tell me if it tasted good.”

He didn’t respond, clutching the half-eaten pork rib, lost in thought.

“YOONGI,” you called out, shaking him by the shoulders, “Look at me.”

He snapped out of his trance, looking at you with bewildered eyes.

“Huh?”

The confusion on his face served to make him look even more lost.

“So, you never listened to my rant about Hoseok’s pork ribs?” He looked blank. “What happened to you, Yoongs?” you asked, clearing out the counter and perching on top of it next to him.

He sighed heavily and hung his head with a faint “Nothing.” As you stared at the soft whorl of his thick black hair, a rising panic bubbled up in your chest. It had been so long since your husband had talked more than five syllables with you. You had jumped out of bed on finding him missing one night, only to find him curled up on the terrace in the biting cold. Over the course of days, his eyes had become bloodshot. He had suddenly become a light sleeper, waking up startled on the slightest of noises. Now, looking at him, you found he had become gaunt and morbidly pale. What was it that ate away at his soul like this? He hadn’t been to his office in days, and he had switched off his work phone. You drummed your fingers nervously on the counter. Was he… was he trying to hide something from you? If so, what was it? You couldn’t help biting your nails in apprehension. Was it an affair? Was it guilt that had made him unable to look at your face? Had he cheated on you? No. You couldn’t think of marriage-killing stuff like that ever happening between you guys.

“Baby,” you tried again, reaching out to entwine his bony fingers in yours. “You can tell me anything, you know that, right? Just tell me, baby, it is killing me to see you like this.”

He remained silent, the only acknowledgment of your words being a slight squeeze of your fingers. You waited in companionable silence, holding his hand and looking at the rays of light flooding in through the windows. As you were watching little particles dancing in the sunlight, there was a harsh squeal of tires outside. Like a bullet from a gun, Yoongi jumped off the counter and dashed to the windows. He looked out and jumped back as if he were electrocuted. He tugged the blinds harshly and ran to you, clutching your hand and dragging you off the counter.

“Baby, wha…”

He turned around and you saw his countenance had grown paler than ever, all the blood drained from his face. He urgently shushed you, pulling you flush against his body and sprinting to the door. Just as his fingers circled the doorknob, the door flew wide open, crashing against the wall with a heavy thud.

Men kept storming in, all heavyset and brawny. As they closed in on you both, Yoongi slid himself in front of you, shielding you as much as he could. The men advanced towards him, causing him to back further until you were pressed against the wall. Suddenly there was a hush inside the room, and you peeked out to see a tall man entering your home in unhurried strides. The men parted like water, allowing him to amble easily towards Yoongi. He had a shock of dark hair, which was long enough to dance on his eyebrows as he walked. He was dressed all in black, his suit contrasting with his pale complexion and lending a mysterious air to him. He had broad shoulders and a slim waist, accentuated by the perfectly fitting suit.

One of the men brought him a chair, which he turned around and placed about an arm’s length from your husband. He draped his legs on the sides lazily, holding on to the top of the backrest and resting his chin on his forearms. He looked innocently at your husband, his dark eyebrows suddenly shooting up as he caught sight of your lithe body shielded by Yoongi’s lean frame. You had no idea who all these men were, but something told you they were not good news. You closed your eyes and held on to your husband’s shirt, wishing they would all go away quickly. There was a tense silence in the room that hung around like dark clouds. A rich sonorous voice cut through the silence, causing you to peek again to see who owned it. To your surprise, it was coming from the stranger seated on your chair, it was unbelievable that such an orotund voice could emanate from the willowy man.

“Well, well, Min Yoongi, you seem to not own a calendar.” The man tsked in lazy irritation. “You know I hate irregulars.”

You could feel your husband tense up, and his chest heaved with his sigh.

“ I need a few more days, Taehyung.”

The stranger addressed as Taehyung threw his head back in mock surprise, widening his eyes and cupping his cheeks.

“Oh! I would have never come if I knew I could count on your word.”

The mockery in his eyes instantly morphed into a dangerous glint, and he pushed the chair away violently as he stood up. He moved forward and bunched the collar of your husband’s shirt, leering at him with rage. His eyes moved over to your terrified ones, and he whistled.

“Look what a doll we have here.”

He thrust his arm behind Yoongi and yanked you out, clutching your forearm in a painful grip.

“No! Leave her alone!”

Yoongi was screaming, trying vainly to catch hold of you. The Taehyung guy was stronger than you thought. He never budged as you jumped and thrashed about, trying to get his hand off your arm, where you knew bruises were stirring. Yoongi charged forward with gritted teeth.

“This is only between you and me.”

Taehyung smirked. “I beg to differ.”

Two burly men clasped their arms around Yoongi’s shoulders, throwing all their weight on him to keep him locked in place. You turned to see your husband struggling against their hold, mouth snarling with his exertion. Long fingers circled the collar of your soft white nightshirt, bunching the material up and pulling you closer to their owner’s body. Taehyung’s tall frame dwarfed you, his long black bangs brushing his eyebrows as his fiery eyes stared at you. He leaned over, his nose nuzzling against yours.

“How is this just between me and him,” he breathed, eyes never leaving yours, “-when he has such a doll of a wife who clearly needs explaining?”

Your eyes quickly darted to Yoongi’s figure, when the man in black cupped your jaw and shifted your focus back to him.

“Whatever is your problem with him?” you spat at him through clenched teeth.

There was a deep hearty chuckle, which reverberated throughout his body. His eyes crinkled in amusement and he leaned back a little to survey your face.

“You don’t even know what your husband has been up to behind your back?”

You drew a sharp breath, which felt like cold ice slicing through your innards. What had Yoongi done?

“Y/N don’t look at me like that. He makes it sound so bad. It really isn’t,” Yoongi pleaded in a hoarse voice.

“Shut him up,” Taehyung ordered, and the command immediately earned Yoongi a box to the ears and a knife to his throat. Pulling the overturned chair back upright, Taehyung sat down in front of you. His slim legs were too long for the chair, which caused him to slide further in the seat with his legs jutting out, making him look like he was made up entirely of legs.

“Wanna sit on my lap while you listen, sugar?” he asked, patting his pants.

You crossed your arms, glaring at him. His casual tone was really riling you up.

“Just get on with it. And don’t call me ‘sugar’ ever.”

There was another deep chuckle. He leaned back and stretched lazily, causing two legs of the chair to hover mid-air.

“Alright, sugar. I would love to tell you all of it, but I’m in a bit of a rush.” He winked at you as he drawled, “ Pity I am not free tonight.”

Your eyes narrowed in impatience and he loved the way your face twisted in annoyance.

“Long story short, your husband owes me 50 million dollars.”

Your mouth fell open, disbelief coursing all over you. No, this had to be a mistake. Yoongi hadn’t ever mentioned being in debt. He hadn’t even been having trouble with his company. Or had he?

“You look surprised, honey.”

You were still frozen in place, not quite comprehending why Yoongi would have borrowed so much money. You looked at your husband, hoping that he would say that it was all a misunderstanding. But Yoongi had gone silent, his eyes were downcast.

“Yoongi?”

Nothing but a small nod to prove that Taehyung was indeed telling the truth.

“50 million dollars, Yoongi?” you asked, your voice incredulous. “What were you even thinking?”

“I hoped I could pay him back,“ Yoongi mumbled softly.

Taehyung crossed his legs, one hand ruffling his long unruly hair and the other gripping the chair. He gazed at you; he could almost hear the wheels turning in your head.

“Well, sugar? Which of you two is going to give me my money back?” He flicked his wrist and looked at his watch. “I want it now.”

“I … We don’t have that much money with us right now.“ Sweat blossomed on your forehead. “This is the first time I’m hearing about this.”

“Sorry I broke the news that your husband doesn’t trust you, love. But I don’t give a fuck about your trust issues. I need my money. Now.”

“Please, just give us some more time. We will pay you back somehow.”

“And how would I trust you, considering your man is already penniless? How would you pay me back?”

“We will … we will figure something out. Please, just trust me.”

He pursed his plump lips like a playful child, crinkling his eyebrows at you. Something about your doe-eyes softened him. He had almost skipped coming; the original plan had been to send only his men to your house. But now, watching your wide eyes pleading to him, he was glad he had decided to come himself. He remembered the loaded gun inside his coat pocket, which he had intended to use before he had set his eyes on you.

“Alright. Let’s see how trustable you are. You have three days.”

You heaved a sigh of relief.

“But I’ll take the bastard with me.”

The relieved smile was instantly wiped off your face.

“But…” you sputtered, hands flailing wildly. “I don’t have any idea how I…”

“He hid his debt from you. Now he has left you to clean up the mess all by yourself, huh sweetie?” He tilted his head to the side. “Are you really willing to do it for a man who didn’t even trust you, his wife?”

He could see your face flinch as his words cut through you. He decided Min Yoongi was a fool to have fallen headfirst in his trap, especially with you not knowing. But then, Yoongi would probably not have borrowed as much if you had known and stepped in to curb the snowballing of his debt. It would have foiled his trap. He smiled. He was happy that Yoongi had managed to get neck-deep in trouble.

“Don’t worry, Yoongi. I will come fetch you as soon as I can, honey.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up as he caught the moment’s hesitation before the word ‘honey’. He knew it was uttered for his benefit. The word was your shield, a magic circle you drew around yourself, thinking it would help ward off his flirtatious advances. Underlining you were Yoongi’s, a taken woman. You really thought you could hide behind it? His heart warmed. You were too adorable.

Swinging his feet off the chair, he rose and strode to Yoongi. He stared at the bloodshot eyes that glared back at him.

“Let’s go, loser.”

You helplessly watched your husband being dragged out by the collar.

"I love you, Y/N. I am sorry,“ Yoongi shouted across his shoulder, as he was manhandled roughly out of the door. All the men poured out of the apartment, leaving you standing alone. Your eyes welled up as you looked at the empty doorway.

"I love you too.”

*****

You had no idea where to start. There were only three days to get all the money ready. Frankly, you were clueless. Yoongi had never been intent on saving. Almost all his earnings went back into his business. Your job as an interior designer paid well, but nowhere near millions of dollars.

It was a stupid idea, to begin with. Borrowing 50 million dollars from a goon? What even had got into Yoongi? How were you expected to pay all of it back within 3 days? It was absolutely impossible. That Taehyung guy was evidently setting you up to fail.

Your brain felt like it had stopped working. Nothing you thought of seemed to make sense. ‘Okay okay, Y/N,’ you told yourself, ‘fucking get it together.’ Your head was pounding. Every minute reminded you that you were getting closer to the deadline. It only made you even more nervous.

Your stomach tightened in a knot. It felt like you were going to be sick. ‘No,’ you muttered, ‘think of something that’ll help.’ You closed your eyes as you massaged your throbbing temples. You could visualize the sands of time rapidly falling down your 3-day sand clock.

Back at his office, Taehyung couldn’t stop thinking about you. He had never been a man of romance; his only encounters had been with easy women looking for hookups in bars. As a unique exception, he found himself obsessing over a woman who was neither easy nor available. He twirled his pen in his hands as he thought about your beautiful doe eyes. He could swear he could still smell the faint berry scent of your hairspray.

As he looked out the window, lost in thought, your visuals came rushing to him. He remembered your high nose, your slender neck, and the sharp angle of your chin that could cut his heart to shreds. Your full figure that the thin nightshirt had done little to hide. The faint gloss on your lips that had allured him. He couldn’t remember the last time that he had ever noticed another woman this much. Was it because he hadn’t been laid in weeks? He didn’t think so. There was something about you that not only inspired lust but also made him fiercely protective. He had never felt that way with any other woman. He was a man who fucked once and then closed the door on the woman for good. But with you, he wanted to own your pretty eyes. He wanted to be the man your eyes searched for in a crowd. He wanted his hand to be the one you reached for. He wanted to worship you and protect you with his entire being. Your heart, your smile, your soft hair, your lithe frame, he wanted all of it.

He looked at the gardener watering the lawn. As he eyed the little droplets of water spraying from the hose, his mind wandered to the fantasy of seeing you wearing that thin nightshirt, drenched in water so he could see everything you had to offer. A heady sensation overtook him so hard that his eyes rolled back in his head. He shook his head and looked down at his pants. Just thinking about you had brought on a hard-on.

*****

If someone had told you two years ago that Yoongi would fall in debt and lose all his money, you would have laughed in their face. Yoongi was not a newbie to the business. He was the son of the richest businessman in the county. His family was old money, and they were wildly popular in elite circles. There was not a party that his mother wasn’t invited to. People stood in respectful silence if his father walked past them. As the only son and the heir of the Min family fortune, Yoongi had a lot of expectations to live up to.

He had been burdened with expectations ever since he had been born. While other children went out on hikes and summer camps, he had the best tutors in the nation mercilessly hounding him with business tactics. While his friends read Rowling and discussed magic, he was forced to read dry books on management and debate with his tutors. He had found early on in his life that there were two kinds of people around him. The ones who wanted to be friends with him to bask in his achievements, and the ones who genuinely liked him for who he was. Like the boy who came every day to play Chess with him. No wait, there was only him, no one else was on that list. He wasn’t sure which category his university friends fell into. No one felt genuine, at the same time, no one felt utterly fake. That was one of the reasons Yoongi had a hard time trusting anyone. All that was set to change one day, thanks to his mom.

Yoongi had never kissed a girl in his life. It was not something he was proud of. Not that he wasn’t interested though. He had a bevy of girls swarming around him all the time, trying their best to catch his eye. To them, he was a gold mine that assured them a luxurious future. He was also exceptionally handsome and that sealed the deal. But he found none of them were really interested in him as an individual. He had once found an attractive girl in a frat party and had thought his first kiss was going to be with her. She had seemed smart and funny too. Until she had flashed him a gorgeous set of pearly whites saying “… so I heard you’re going to inherit the whole of the Min family estate, huh?”

It was on a late evening that Yoongi stood in his porch, nursing a Baccarat wine glass and wondering if he would step into his 24th year on Earth never having kissed a woman. That was when a car skidded to a halt before him, and you stepped out. He watched you alight and smooth your pencil skirt, an unhurried look on your pretty face. You reached again into the car to fetch your sleek briefcase and looked at your watch. A smile graced your features. Yoongi was impressed. A punctual woman. You walked with the brisk tap-taps of your heels and sailed past him without a glance. As you crossed him, he could smell the lingering flowery notes of your perfume. His phone dinged in his pocket announcing it was time for yet another overseas call. As he turned back to reach his room, your perfume lingered in a corner of his mind long after the traces of the scent had vanished.

Yoongi’s mother was an elite socialite. Her name was uttered with reverence in the high circles. She had a web of powerful friends which she relied on for anything of importance. Like when she wanted to re-decorate her office in alignment with the latest trends. She had asked Mrs. Park for ideas, and the lady had provided her with your number. You had been struggling to land a project fresh out of your apprenticeship. Mrs. Park had tried you out for her daughter’s new apartment and had found your work commendable. She had readily advised Mrs. Min to hire you, whispering conspiratorially into her phone, “She doesn’t charge as much for her work, but I think she should. She really is a steal at her price.” And so, Mrs. Min had called you to her place.

And that was the start of your new project. Mrs. Min was not a person who traveled to offices that didn’t belong to conglomerates. So, it came about that you visited her once in two days, bringing your designs and seeking her inputs on them. You found her very friendly, she listened to your explanations patiently without trying to interrupt like a know-it-all. She hadn’t any airs, contrary to what you had expected when you had first met her.

Yoongi hadn’t seen you on your previous visits. Understandable, considering his jam-packed schedule. But one innocent question to his mother told him who you were, and on what days you were expected to visit. It started as a mild curiosity on his part. He simply thought you were interesting and wished to see more of you. Increasingly, his schedule adjusted to your visits, and he often walked in on you, dropping business news to his mother while sneaking a look at you. He lived in a condo, away from his parents. But he needed to meet his father and discuss business several times a week. And given his sudden interest in you, it was a pleasure for him to drop by at his parents’ home.

Things came to a head on a stormy Friday night. You had stayed far too long in Mrs. Min’s chamber, poring over the plans and jotting down her suggestions. She had caught you staring at the empty glass on her table and had excused you to fetch yourself a drink.

“Ask the maid to hand you wine, my dear,” she urged, “We have a splendid collection.”

So, you found yourself wandering to the cellar in pursuit of a drink. Maybe it wasn’t necessary to bother the maids, you were sure you could get a glass yourself. You reached the pitch-dark cellar and felt around for the light switch. When you switched it on, the lights lit up all the shelves in a wonderful ambiance. Rows and rows of bottles were stacked on the shelves, the light catching on their glossy bodies and illuminating them. Taking all of it in, you whistled under your breath as you saw bottles dating back decades.

“I’ll be damned.”

Picking an elegant Chateau Latour, you poured some of the crimson liquid into a crystal glass and set it on the marble counter. There was a stool that you pulled and sat on, kicking off your heels. You were not a woman who wore ridiculously high heels, but the heels that day had not been exactly comfortable. You bent down, massaging your slightly sore feet, when a shadow fell on you, darkening your vision and casting a long shadow on you. You raised your head and saw a man standing before you. He hadn’t seen you; he had come in to pick a bottle for himself. You quickly rose to your feet and the sudden movement caught his attention. With a swift turn, he swung around to face you.

Yoongi had never seen you up close. It felt like a dream to him. The dim light from the shelves fell on you, highlighting your cheekbones and lending a captivating air of mystery to your features. Your eyes glinted and sparkled, the light from the bottles making it seem like you had swallowed all the stars in the sky with your eyes. He cleared his throat, running his hand through his hair as he racked his brain for a suitable line to say.

“Mr. Min, a pleasure meeting you.” Stepping forward on your naked feet, you offered him your hand.

“Likewise,” he said, giving your hand a firm shake. He smiled at you, little gummy smile and all.

“A fine collection you have here,” you ventured, nodding at the shelves.

He nodded proudly, gesturing to another row of shelves at the far back.

“We have our finest wines here, dating back centuries.”

You smiled politely, suddenly remembering your haphazardly strewn heels and the bare state of your feet. He saw you shuffling awkwardly, and his eyes landed on your feet. His eyes widened. He had never seen such dainty little toes before. With a sheepish smile, you bent down and picked up the heels, slipping your feet into them and effectively disturbing his appreciative gaze on them.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then,” he muttered, reaching out to pick a bottle. When he turned and left, you found you had held your breath the entire time. Sighing, you finished your drink and proceeded to return to Mrs. Min’s office. A good two hours later, it was pouring with rain outside. As you filed all your papers and returned them to your briefcase, you worried about having to drive through the pounding rain. Mrs. Min seemed to read your uneasiness.

“Would you be able to ride in this downpour, dear?” She craned her head to watch the sheets of rain. “I think you’d better stay the night here.”

“Oh, that’s alright Mrs. Min, I’m sure I would be fine.”

“At least, let me send one of my people with you.” She paused and decided it wouldn’t do to send a maid or manservant with you at that hour of the night. The drivers had retired to their beds already. Wait-her son was still home.

“Let me find Min Yoongi and send him with you.”

Without waiting for an answer, she went off to her husband’s study where Yoongi usually stayed up till the wee hours of dawn, working on company matters. She was back in a couple of minutes, with Yoongi in tow.

“Allow my son to drive you,” Mrs. Min patted her son’s fine back. He nodded at you, not an over-enthusiastic nod but a crisp let’s-get-on-with-this nod. You started to feel he didn’t want to do anything with you, and it made you feel awkward.

The short ride to your apartment happened in two moods. You were nervous that Yoongi was miffed at having to drive you; Yoongi was nervous that you seemed cold and imagined you hated being alone with him. Neither of you guessed that the tension in the air between you had nothing to do with annoyance or hate.

As Yoongi nosed his car into the parking lot, you worked up the courage to say in a small voice, “Uh, would you like to come in and wait the storm out?”

Yoongi’s grip on his steering wheel tightened. He could feel his heart hammering away. The moisture in his palms started to make the steering wheel slippery. What was this? He was completely baffled. Did you want him to go in and sit with you? Or was this one of those cheeky invites to-, he shuddered, - to go in and kiss? Your intent gaze, as you waited for him to respond, was not helping his confusion in any way. Before he could think more, he found his voice saying “Sure.” He was surprised at how calm he had sounded because on the inside he was anything but.

Once inside, you made straight for the couch, nothing about your face suggested flirtation. He exhaled and calmed himself down, sitting across from you, watching you as you kicked your heels off happily. He looked around at your apartment, everything was neatly arranged, not a thing was out of place. His eyes were drawn to your biggest asset that occupied a large portion of your hall: your bookshelf.

“Virginia Woolf?” His eyebrows shot up as he scanned the shelf.

You said nothing, words refused to come out.

“Language is wine upon the lips.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, hearing those words from him, of all people. The word 'wine’ instantly took you back to that cellar, where he had stood before you, framed by that insanely beautiful light as if he were a revelation.

“Y/N?” His lips curled in a grin. “I never thought quoting Woolf was the best way to earn a woman’s reverence.”

Your cheeks flushed crimson, and you racked your brains for a witty reply.

“When you consider things like the stars, our affairs don’t seem to matter very much, do they?”

His grin widened, breaking out into a hearty chuckle. He nodded dramatically, eyes shining in amusement. You regarded him with an interested gaze.

"I never thought you’d have read Woolf.“

He rolled his head back lazily. “Ah, you’re the first and last person to know.”

“I’m honored.” You smiled at him as he scanned your shelf again.

“Charlotte Bronte.” He jerked his head at you with a raised eyebrow.

“She’s my favorite. I am crazy about Jane Eyre.”

He pursed his lips comically, pressing his index fingers together as if he were meditating.

“She wasn’t beautiful, Rochester was not handsome, they had a 20-year age gap,” he counted out on his fingers, mischief on his face.

“That’s the beauty, isn’t it? Heroes and heroines are usually described as beautiful and handsome respectively, but this time the book focused on love, just between two normal people.” You paused and looked ahead, stars in your eyes. “Helen was my favorite character; she was wise beyond her age. I feel so strongly drawn to such peaceful tranquility.“

He closed his eyes and decided that you were the smartest woman he had ever come across, second only to his mother. As both of you discussed more about literary characters, he found himself wishing that the storm would never abate. He wanted more of your presence, he wanted to hear your voice talk about things he had secretly loved all his life.

The time came for him to leave, and he grumblingly got up to bid good-bye.

” I’ll ask one of the drivers to fetch you your car in the morning,“ he said, slipping into his coat. “And allow me to say that this was the best night of my life.”

Blood rose to your cheeks, making you feel feverish. “That makes two of us,” you said, heart brimming with happiness on seeing him smile.

Long after he had left, you found yourself staring at the doorway. With a sigh, you closed the door, knowing that you loved every moment he had spent with you, but there was no doubt you would have loved it, even more, had things gone a little bit differently.

*****

Ever since that fateful night, Yoongi found himself making pleasant small talk with you whenever you visited Mrs. Min. And each time, he found himself wondering if he was more than just interested in you. He could feel the way his pulse quickened on seeing you, the way all the hair on his arms stood up when you brushed him accidentally. He started noticing your little habits. He loved the small twist of hair that fluttered while you walked, the little tear-shaped earrings you wore, the small jingle of your metal bracelet when it hit the table as you worked. He was amused at the way you wrote the number 5, starting at the bottom and ending at the top. The lone dimple on your left cheek that flashed only when you grinned in genuine pleasure always left his knees weak.

Yoongi had no experience with women, and he found it maddening that he didn’t know how to properly flirt. So, he turned to his chess-mate for help. The guy was quite helpful, but Yoongi was doubtful if his suggestions were a bit too cheesy. He began to panic, unsure if you preferred the corny lines his friend fed him, or the poetic ones aplenty in the old literary gold you were clearly fond of.

So, it was a very confused Yoongi that was sitting with you a few days later on the stone bench in his mother’s lawn. His mother had gone out on an urgent errand. You had already parked your car on the porch when the news of her being away reached you. It turned out you were at a free end that evening, which Yoongi decided to benefit from. The stone bench felt warm from all the sun’s rays that had fallen on it throughout the day. You had been talking about your work day, and he had been listening happily.

Suddenly, without even knowing it happened, he dipped his head down, capturing your soft lips in a hesitant kiss. It was pleasant for a moment until he realized he was supposed to deepen it. He started panicking. He knew tongues would be involved, but how on Earth was he going to achieve that feat? Sweat started running down his neck, and his breathing became labored. You noticed his discomfort and leaned back, opening your mouth to form “What…” He saw your mouth open and took the chance to dive in again, relaxing thankfully when there was no opposition from your side. When both of you finally broke the kiss, he was so embarrassed that he couldn’t bring himself to look at your eyes.

He was certain you had hated it. He knew he had been sloppy, and he vowed to blame his kissing abilities if you never wanted to see him again. While he was internally kicking himself, you put your little hand in his large ones, with a mild “Are you alright, Yoongi?” When he didn’t answer, you added wickedly, “That was a hell of a kiss.”

His head shot up, indignant at first, the annoyance quickly morphing into merriment as he took in your coy wink.

“Trust me they’ll get better.”

When there was no reply, his confidence plummeted again. He started to stammer “I didn’t imply-” before he was silenced with another searing kiss.

*****

It was the night of your sixth date when both of you were cuddled up in one blanket, feet dangling from the roof of his balcony. Yoongi was content with you at his side, your sweet-smelling hair cascading down your shoulders and brushing against him. He wanted to say something and seal the moment. But what should he say? Taking your index finger in his hands, he started tracing the delicate bones as he worked up his nerves.

Closing his eyes, he blurted out, “Design our home.”

You looked at him, startled. “Do you want me to be your designer?”

He shook his head, pressing the bridge of his nose with his thumb. “No. I am asking you to own my home and make it beautiful by being in it.”

He was screaming at himself for not phrasing the words better. He made a mental note to go kick his chess mate’s balls off for suggesting the damned line. There was a heavy silence, so heavy that it suffocated him. He slowly opened his eyes. Just as he decided he had lost you forever, a tinkling giggle reached his ears, leaving him dumbstruck. The giggle amplified into more giggles, finally breaking out into peals of joyful laughter. As the laughter subsided, you wiped your streaming eyes and replied: “Only if you promise to remain this cute.”

*****

The next day, Yoongi took you to his parents and announced the engagement. He had proposed again properly, with a beautiful ring, but you had told him you really preferred the first version of his proposal. Mrs. Min took the news very well, she smiled as she hugged you and pecked you on the cheek. “I knew it was just a matter of time before he fell for you,” she whispered with a twinkle in her eyes.

After four glorious months of being engaged, you had a beautiful white wedding that Mrs.Min organized with aplomb. You had no parents, so your best friend Hoseok happily agreed to give you away. Your friends did everything they could to soothe the pain of your parents not being there to see your happiness. There were festoons engraved with Yoongi’s and your initials, adorning every nook and corner, declaring your love to the world.

As you walked down the aisle with a proud Hoseok beaming all over his face, Yoongi felt like he could choke with happiness. You grinned at him as you reached his side, tilting your head to allow Hoseok to peck your cheeks. Hoseok then shook hands with Yoongi, winking at him and slapping his back. And then the magic moment arrived.

All the words that the minister said felt like cotton candy. It all just blew away, and only the sweetest words remained- “I do.” You had tears in your eyes as you accepted Yoongi as your lawfully wedded husband. Yoongi’s mother passed down her own mother’s wedding ring, a beautiful solitaire diamond ring that glittered and shone. Yoongi smiled through tears, whispering “In case you ever foolishly forget: I am never not thinking of you,” as he slipped it on your finger, claiming you as his own. The wedding kiss had tears from Yoongi’s cheeks and yours falling onto the lips, strangely tasting sweeter than the choicest nectar.

As he walked out of the church, he was filled with a deep pride. You loved him. You were his. You were Mrs.Min.

*****

The Min family welcomed you as one of their own with open arms. As a wedding gift, Yoongi’s parents gifted you a charming house, a skeleton of a house really. It was yours to design and furnish, yours to apply all your designing skills and turn it into your home. Your days passed happily, enjoying the lavish affection your husband showered on you, and doing what you loved when he went away for the day.

Your clientele grew, as you were now part of the elite club. There were commissions from Mrs. Min’s friends to help alter and redecorate their offices and homes. Yoongi worked all day, managing his father’s businesses and clients. But when he came home, all his stress evaporated away, leaving only fierce embers of love. He was doting, sweet, animalistic, feral, subtle, blunt, all thrown into one perfect balance, leaving you gasping and deliciously wanting for more.

Just as life seemed that it was all sunshine and happiness, tragedy struck. Your father-in-law was involved in a bad car accident, which left him severely injured. The days were filled with frantic phone calls from investors, grim faces of doctors, alcohol-sprayed hospital rooms, and the slowly fraying nerves of your husband. Your mother-in-law never lost her composure, she went about her duties robotically. She tended to her husband, watching as his body struggled to recuperate. She witnessed his body slowly shutting down one part at a time. She read to him, prayed at his side, slept at the bedside, never leaving him. But on the day she saw him breathing his last, your mother-in-law broke.

Min Sung-Hee had been a proud woman, who had defied societal conventions and broken ties to marry the man she loved. His demise was a severe blow to her, she had never thought her husband was even capable of dying. She had clung on to the gossamer hope that he would recover, and when he failed to do so, the thread snapped. She was left unhinged.

You brought her to live with you, but nothing was helping her steer towards sanity. Each night, you were kept awake with the heart-breaking howls and sobs that reverberated through the walls. Her eyes lost their luster, tired wrinkles covered her face the way moss silently creeps on rocks and obscures them. On a particularly desolate night, you found her holding a knife, face impassive. When you tried to call her name, she paid no heed. Suddenly, with a blood-curling yowl, she hurled herself at the mirror, shattering it and sending shards flying all over the place. You screamed for Yoongi as she kept banging her head on the broken mirror. Your screams disturbed her and she flew at you, knife aimed straight at your throat.

There was a rush of footsteps behind you, and a strong hand pushed you to the side. Yoongi wrestled his fragile mother as softly as he could, prying the knife away from her and locking her in a tight hold. You were trembling when you ran down to fetch a glass of water, the eyes that had looked at you had been devoid of any recognition.

It was very painful but Yoongi knew he had no choice but to send his mother to an institution. He didn’t want you to be afraid in your own home. He was scared for you, and for his mother’s safety too. He wanted her to get the best care, and an institution seemed to be the best way to go. He reasoned with you, telling you it had to be done. It was not an easy decision, but when Yoongi saw his mother’s cold manic eyes looking back at him on the way to the institution, he knew he was doing the right thing to protect his family.

*****

Yoongi inherited his father’s businesses and everything his parents owned. Financially, you were richer, but emotionally you felt poorer. You had grown to consider Yoongi’s parents your own, and their absence scarred you deeply. The playful Yoongi was gone, replaced by a serious man who had to suddenly take charge of his father’s legacy and shoulder responsibilities that were thrust upon him.

Gone were the days when he would rush home from work to lift you as if you were his precious child. As the days passed, he became more and more trapped at his office. You longed for those magical days when there were four of you at the table, when Yoongi’s eyes had been filled with mischief and fun. It was hard to focus on your designs, but you trudged through them zealously. Yoongi still loved you, and you just had to wait for him to get a hold of his business responsibilities.

Indeed, there was a brief period when Yoongi returned early, brought you flowers, and even took you out on dinner dates. That was after he had hired Wo Bin, his new manager. For months, Yoongi was all praise for his manager. He left Wo Bin in-charge whenever he had other pressing matters to attend to. He grew to trust the man, even letting him handle a few acquisitions all by himself. He once brought Wo Bin home, and you were amused at the shy, bespectacled man who your husband had often spoken so highly of.

But it was just a matter of months before the relaxed Yoongi disappeared again, and an even more stressed husband returned to you each night. You tried asking him gently, but he remained silent, not even trying to explain. You assumed it was a deal gone bad, which your husband would surely recover from. But weeks rolled by, and Yoongi’s moodiness showed no signs of abating. If anything, he had only grown even more remote, stubbornly refusing to answer your questions, and skipping meals several days a week. You prayed and begged, but he simply shut his mouth tight, refusing to respond. That was when panic set in, gnawing at your chest. Was he guilty of something? Had he cheated on you?

Many such tumultuous thoughts had been flittering in your mind as you had grilled pork ribs on that fateful day, trying to cheer your husband up. That had been the day your world turned upside down: Taehyung had stepped into your house, tearing your husband away from you, giving you just three days to pay him fifty million dollars.

*****

“What?!”

Your scream echoed through the small glass-paneled office. Seated across you, nervously twiddling his thumbs, was Bong Ju, Yoongi’s legal advisor.

“Yes, Mrs.Min. The Min corporation has indeed filed for bankruptcy.”

You felt as if all your blood had evaporated and clouded around your face in a red haze. This was the worst thing to ever happen. Your husband was not around, the company was dying, your only relative was in an institution, and you had to cough up 50 million dollars within 68 hours. Three hours had already been wasted in Bong Ju’s explanation of the debts, there was no more time to lose.

“How the heck did the company fall so deep in debt? Last quarter’s reports were so good!”

Bong Ju shook his head vigorously. “Yes, there is nothing wrong with our company.” He paused and scratched his head. “ In fact, we would have still been an incredibly profitable company, if it weren’t for Wo Bin.”

“Wo Bin? The executive manager? What did he do?” Your knuckles were white from gripping the handles of the chair too hard.

“He struck deals with ridiculously high prices, there were so many useless acquisitions for millions of dollars. He also embezzled millions of dollars in company funds. He absconded with all the money.”

“You couldn’t trace that bastard?”

“No, Mrs.Min. He well and truly vanished. All the investors found out and they threatened to sue the company. Mr. Min had no option but to settle and avoid a legal battle. He had to file for bankruptcy, that was the only way he could pay them off.”

“And how did Taehyung come into all this?”

“He loaned Mr. Min most of the money to reach a settlement with the investors. Kim Taehyung charges exorbitant interests, but Mr. Min went ahead and borrowed huge amounts of money. He never expected to be dragged this deep into the mire.”

You buried your head in your hands. There was a serious urge to tear at your hair, which you controlled with the last of your patience. How on Earth were you expected to save the company? There was no way in Hell you could raise all the money and still salvage the company.

The man stayed mute for a few minutes, scared of setting you off again. He saw you chewing on your lip, horror written all over your face. Timidly, he cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses.

“You could… ”

“I could what?”

“Er… Mrs.Min, you could uh… try mortgaging the Min estate?”

He wiped the sweat on his forehead as he watched your face in apprehension. He was almost ready to jump out of the window than sit in that stifling atmosphere with the wife of his employer shooting daggers at him.

“Do you think that will cover it? It’s 50 MILLION dollars!” you yelled.

“Maybe, you have other assets? Like your home? I am sure you could mortgage your home too.”

You slid down a bit on your chair, massaging your temples. Your home? This man was asking you to mortgage your home? But it was your dream home! You had designed every tile on that building with love. You fanned your hot cheeks. This was about Yoongi, not the house. You could always design a new house. Swallowing the bitter taste in your mouth, you nodded. You remembered something else too.

“I have two million dollars in my savings deposit.”

You bit your lips and controlled the tears that were threatening to fall. You had put aside some of the money you earned in a deposit. It was meant to be used when you had babies. Every month, you had giggled happily while transferring money to the deposit. It had been your secret; you had never dreamt that you would be required to withdraw all of it for a reason other than your babies. It was all you had saved, just for your future children. You sniffed, deciding it had to be done to save Yoongi.

“ Withdraw the money, and start the work to mortgage our home and the Min estate.”

The man obligingly stood up, nodding.

“I will start on the course of action, Mrs.Min.”

You watched as he bowed to you, turning to leave. A thought struck you out of the blue.

“Just a minute, Bong Ju.” The tone made him turn abruptly. “Why did you not suggest mortgaging the property before, to my husband?“

There was a heavy silence. He took out his handkerchief, wiping his bald head as he licked his lips.

"Well, you see Mrs.Min,” the man advanced to you in slow steps, “Mr. Min didn’t want you to know about the financial crisis. He had hoped to resolve it before it snowballed into a full-blown nightmare.” He saw the uncertainty on your face. “You… uh, you would have come to know if he ever mortgaged the estate or the house, your signature would have been necessary.”

You deflated, wishing your husband had just believed in you and told you about his monetary struggles. Taehyung’s words repeated in your head. Had Yoongi really not trusted you enough? You shook your head. No, that couldn’t be the reason. You couldn’t lose your head over this; time was running out.

“Well, there’s one more thing, Bong Ju.” You looked at your hand, a deep sorrow weighing your heart down. With tears blurring your eyes, you slid your wedding ring off. The diamond glinted at you, looking even more radiant through your tears. You extended the ring to the man.

“Mortgage this too, it is a family treasure.”

The man looked uncomfortable. He eyed the ring on his palm warily. “Are you sure, Mrs. Min? I think-”

“Just go.”

He left without a word, leaving you alone, swirling in the emotions that were choking your lungs.

*****

You were pacing around your study, wondering what was happening to Yoongi. There had been a phone call exactly at midnight. A low raspy voice had said, “You have two days,” before cutting off abruptly. The call had left you wide-eyed and worried.

Now, as you paced impatiently, you wished you could turn to someone for help. Your mother-in-law was sure to have stowed away some money in security deposits. But how could you ask her? She barely recognized you, she would surely have no recollection of her deposits, whatsoever. On an impulse, you dialed the number of the institution in which she was housed.

You listened to the dial-back tone, nervously biting your nails. God, you smelt like a tramp. You hadn’t showered, hadn’t eaten a morsel, or even had a sip of water. The line crackled and a high-pitched voice answered.

“Klammer Institute.”

You sucked in a deep breath. “Hi, I am Min Sung-Hee’s family. How is she?”

“Oh, Good morning Mrs.Min. I am afraid she has been catatonic; Dr. Stevens upped her dosage last night to see if she responds.”

“Oh.” Your heart fell. But this was to be expected. “Is it possible for me to speak to her?”

“Let me see if she will talk, hold on.”

You waited; the answer already clear as day. It was the most foolish thing ever to expect any good outcome from this. Were you losing your mind too? It wasn’t like you to cling on to fruitless threads like this. You heard the woman speak to your mother-in-law, announcing your arrival. There was a rustle, and then silence.

“Hello?” you ventured after a few seconds of the deafening silence.

“Hm?” the voice sounded painfully feeble.

“Hey, Ma. I am Y/N. How are you?” You held your breath.

“Y/N? I don’t know any Y/N.”

“I am your daughter-in-law,” you began to explain patiently before she cut you off.

“Where is Min? Give the phone to him.”

She was asking for her husband, the poor darling. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that he had died. You were an idiot. What had you expected? A miracle?

“He… He isn’t around right now, Ma.”

“Tell him I am so lonely. Why did he leave me here? I feel so…” There was a pause. “Who are you again?”

“Never you mind, Ma. Please rest. Let me speak to the orderly.”

After inquiring more about your mother-in-law’s health, you cut the call with a sigh. There was no possible way you could ask your only relative for help. You felt even worse than when you had placed the call.

*****

There were only 12 hours left for the deadline to end. You had not showered in three days. There were tired dark circles around your eyes. You hadn’t slept in more than 30 hours, and it was making your eyes sting to look at any light. The same white nightshirt you had been wearing when Yoongi was dragged out by goons clung to your famished body. You had moved out of your house and had taken up a room in a mediocre hotel. Luxury hotels charged so much it made your ears burn.

There was an urgent knock on the door, and you sprinted to open it. Bong Ju was standing outside, a big black suitcase weighing his arm down. You practically ripped his arm off, pulling him into the room and banging the door shut.

“Well?”

You could hear your pulse throbbing in your ears. He nodded swiftly, rushing to the bed and heaving the suitcase on it. He threw it open, wiping his eyebrows in the crook of his elbow. There were stacks of crisp banknotes, arranged neatly and secured with elastic.

“There’s 50 million dollars in here, Mrs.Min.”

You looked at him with a faint sense of foreboding. “Did everything… did it all just fetch- only 50 million dollars?”

You had mortgaged your entire life. And it had all amounted to just covering your ass?

“I naturally had to avoid much negotiation, you see. Time is of the essence here and we couldn’t possibly waste it in bargaining.”

You nodded. Everything felt like water slipping through your fingers.

“And the ring?” you managed to whisper.

“It fetched 75 thousand dollars, Mrs. Min. And solely because it was an heirloom.” He lowered his voice and added, “The appraiser was an old friend of mine.”

You huffed in impatience. Who cared if he had pulled strings to get you the money? It was his job. Also, he was partly responsible for the mess your company was in. What kind of legal advisor couldn’t advise the CEO not to trust a stranger too much? You narrowed your eyes at him. It sickened you to see his greasy smile. Did he expect you to appreciate him or something? Dick.

“There’s only 11 hours and thirty minutes left.” You leaped to the bed and clamped the suitcase shut. Lugging it behind, you bolted through the door. You heard the man mutter something behind you. No time to listen. If you had turned and lent an ear, you would have heard him hiss at you:

“Mrs.Min, you are in your pajamas!”

*****

You hailed a cab, not caring in the least about the stares from all around you. A cab screeched to a halt in front of you.

“Where to, miss?” He took in your disheveled appearance. “What the hell, lady? Problems with the family?”

You jumped in and slammed the door shut. Your knuckles were aching from your hold on the suitcase. It contained your whole life.

“I need to go to the South Boulevard.”

He turned from his seat, eyeing you warily.

“That’s not a very safe neighborhood,” he shrugged, “not a place for a young woman like yourself.”

“That’s alright. I need to go there.”

“Where exactly, if I may ask?”

“Uh, Kim Taehyung’s mansion. Do you know it?”

“Oh, him.” There was a long pause. “I know that place.”

There was no more conversation after that, and you rode in silence. You chewed your nails, wondering if you should have actually counted the money for yourself. What if that sleazy Bong Ju had tried to steal some for himself? Wiping your eyebrows, you looked out the windows. Now you had no way of knowing if you really had 50 million dollars in your suitcase. It would not be safe to count the money inside the cab. You looked at the driver’s face in the rearview mirror. Suddenly you were filled with distrust that spanned to every living thing around you.

The cab ground to a halt in front of a sprawling mansion. You stumbled around with trembling fingers for change to cover the fare. As he reached his palm out to take it, the man suddenly stilled. He opened the door and stepped out, much to your alarm. He removed his coat and extended it to you.

“Take this.” He raised an eyebrow in the general direction of the mansion. “Can’t go in there in just your pajamas, lady.”

The suspicion rolled off your body and evaporated into thin air. You wrapped yourself in his coat and stammered your thanks. You stood watching the cab pull away, and shook yourself as it disappeared out of sight. 'Okay, Y/N. Time to go into the monster’s den.’

Dragging the suitcase, you charged through the gates, not paying attention to all the armed men walking around. They paused and stared, but didn’t stop you. You wouldn’t lie, all your nerves were tightly wound, almost to snapping point. You walked with your calf muscles burning, storming through the lawns and making a beeline to the enormous oak door. On reaching the door, a man with a rifle thrust his weapon at you, blocking your way.

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetmeat?”

Disgust rolled up your throat and you gritted your teeth. The man’s sweaty odor was enough to make you want to puke.

“Let me through. I need to go in to pay up my debt.”

He ran his eyes all over you, making you squirm in your nightclothes. With a sickening smirk, he lifted his rifle and allowed you to pass, calling behind you, “Boss is on the second floor. Also, nice ass.”

*****

Puffing and heaving, you reached the second floor. There were a lot of guards outside the first door, and you decided that was where Taehyung probably was. Not paying heed to the guards, you pushed the door open. Sure enough, there was the devil, his legs propped on his table, his eyes scanning a file. A gun was strewn on the table carelessly.

Taehyung looked up and saw you standing framed by the doorway. He couldn’t believe you were there, wearing the exact nightshirt that had haunted him in his dreams. He could see the damp spot on your chest, where your sweat had moistened the cloth and turned it deliciously translucent. Your hair was damp with sweat, all those little wisps of hair had stuck to your forehead like a wreath. The way your chest heaved with each breath sent a sharp ache down his groin. He looked at the suitcase in your hand, and his lips stretched in a sly smile.

“Brought my money back, huh, sugar?”

He manspread his legs on the desk, his crotch as clear as day. He was enjoying the way your eyes grew wide. The bob of your throat as you swallowed nervously sent his mind spinning with images of making you gag around him. He picked his gun and spun it as he regarded you with an arrogant smirk.

You glared at him and threw the suitcase on the table, opening it wide to show him the stacks of money.

“Take this and let Yoongi go.”

He threw his head back with a sigh. He inhaled slowly, closing his eyes. Crossing his heels on the table, he lazily toyed with his gun.

“Oh, baby doll, I wish I could.”

You tensed, electric jolts going haywire in your brain.

“What? What the fuck do you mean?”

“I don’t think I can let him go, baby girl.”

“Fucking take the money and give me my husband, KIM TAEHYUNG!”

He swung his legs off the table, watching you as he swiveled sideways on his chair. Two guards rushed in on hearing your screams. Taehyung blew on the muzzle of his gun with disinterest.

“And what if I won’t?”

You threw your hands up in despair.

“What the fuck more do you want?”

He got up and ambled around the mahogany desk. He precariously sat on the table with one leg on the floor, supporting his weight. He still had the gun in his hand, rubbing it in slow strokes on the side of his pants.

“Ah,” he said, looking beyond you at the guards in the doorway. “There’s no problem here, Wo Bin-ah. You can wait outside.”

In a flash, you spun on your heel to look at Wo Bin, standing there with a rifle. He wasn’t wearing glasses, and he towered over you, his chest puffed up.

“What? Wo Bin? You? You! You!” You lunged at him, arms outstretched in rage. He jabbed your chin with the butt of his rifle, sending shooting pain throughout your skull. Head swimming, you saw his blurred outline walk out of the room.

As you clutched your jaw, there was a deep chuckle behind you.

“Confused, honey?”

You turned and glared at Taehyung.

“What is that.. what is that scum doing here?”

“He works for me.”

“What?!”

“Hmm.” He hummed softly, rubbing his temple with the gun. He took a step towards you. “He’s been with me for years.”

“How- what was he- Where is Yoongi?” There was a sudden panic coursing through your veins. You needed to fetch Yoongi and get out of here.

“You’ll get him if you give me what I want.” He was now talking slow steps towards you.

“I already brought you the money, dickwad assbutt.”

He chuckled again, shaking his head.

“I want you.”

You froze, jaw hanging open.

He drawled lazily. “Min Yoongi is a penniless loser. He has nothing left in the world.” He came nearer. “But you just made me 50 million dollars richer. I have everything. I am so much better than him, sugar”

His eyes blazed at you. “Be mine.”

He reached out and tugged at your coat, brushing his fingers against the fabric. When you didn’t move, he circled you and stood behind you. Ghosting his arm around your waist, he spooned you from behind. He bent slightly to take a whiff of your hair. Mmm. Berries. The movement thrust his entire body snug against you.

His hands were reaching your chest, almost groping you. Suddenly, you were aware of a hard bulge pressing against you.

“NO,” you shouted shrilly at the top of your lungs, wriggling vigorously to get out of his grip. His arm tightened around your midsection and you scratched and clawed at his flesh until he hissed and released you. You pushed off his chest, screaming. His fingers clawed at the air and found your coat, holding you back as you tried to run. He held on to your coat in a vice-like grip, not allowing you to advance. With a wild shrug, you got out of the coat, catapulting to the door in the momentum. Without looking back, you ran out as if your head were on fire.

Taehyung spat out on seeing the angry red nail marks on his arms. He shouted to his men, commanding them to run after you. He would not let you get away. He ran out like a madman, slamming himself against the balcony when he saw your figure darting across the lawns. The men were chasing you, but you were running like the wind. He gritted his teeth, seeing you jump across the hedges like a hare.

He roared to a guy, shouting at him to get his car. He was going to get you, no matter what.

*****

You ran faster than you had ever run in your life. The adrenaline pushed your limits, sending you blazing through the boulevard. You cut across lanes, doing your best to not go down the obvious route. It had been almost half an hour on the run before your lungs gave out. You squinted your eyes, making out the towers of a suspension bridge that stretched over the sea, and you knew where to go.

You were thoroughly spent when you wheezed and stumbled to the bridge. The cars were whirring past, oblivious to the skimpily clad figure trudging along the bridge. It was illegal to walk on the bridge’s deck, you knew, but you didn’t care. It would be lucky for you to get into prison, at least you would be safe there. Reaching the hard left of the bridge, you gripped the railing and peered down.

The sea was lapping at the visible parts of the bridge’s foundations. The water looked frightening, stretching out in such a vast expanse that made you feel insignificant. You looked around. Cars were still moving back and forth, no one seemed to have seen you loitering on the bridge. There was no time to lose.

Throwing your leg over the railing, you hoisted yourself on the suspender cables that had the lowest elevation. You kicked your feet off the railing, resolving to not look down at the deep, deep sea splashing around down beneath. A sick panic climbed up from the pit of your stomach as you dangled from the railing, with nothing to support you but your hands. It was so hard to hold on to the metal, the afternoon sun had heated it to scalding point. Pain shot up your shoulder joints, causing you to wince in agony. The three-day starvation was quickly catching up, and you felt like you were going to pass out.

There was immediate death beckoning to you from below. The drop itself would kill you. A vague newspaper fragment floated to your mind’s eye. There had been a passage once on the newspaper about this bridge, and you knew this one was 75 feet high. Sweat rolled down your forehead, forming fat beads on your eyelashes. No, you could not let go, you would plummet to your death. The drops of sweat flowed into your eyes, stinging them and causing you to curse out loud. You had to get a move on before your arms gave out.

A few feet away, there was a small platform jutting out from under the deck of the bridge. Blinking away the salty drops blurring your vision, you swung your arm out to catch the next rail. Oh God, was it difficult. Fuck those action heroes who did it above safety nets and made it look easy as pie. You were sure your arms would tear off from all the strain. Muttering a fluent string of curse words, you heaved your body from rail to rail, never looking down.

It felt like ages before you reached the damned platform. It was made of metal, and you squealed in pain as it scorched your bottom. The thin pajamas were not helping either. Biting down on your tongue, you rolled on your bottom, wishing the heat dissipated quickly. The platform was very small, it was probably never intended to provide sanctuary for a human. The strip of metal was long, and you decided to align yourself along the length of it. There was no support on the sides, you could easily roll over and fall into the crashing waves.

You lay still, holding on to the edge of the platform for dear life. The sun was beating down on your face mercilessly. You were sure you’d be sunburnt beyond recognition if you stayed here long enough. A little farther, there were a couple of ships moving slowly against the horizon. You were watching them when you heard cars whiz past the deck, causing the platform to vibrate hard. Closing your eyes, you wondered if any of those cars carried Taehyung or his gang of goons.

*****

Taehyung couldn’t believe he had let you slip that easily. He had moved every piece in the game so carefully. How could he have lost you after so much effort? His men were combing the streets for you, dozens of his cars were patrolling the land. No one had gotten any whiff of you so far. But they would. He knew it was just a matter of hours before you would be back in his arms, nightshirt and all.

As he rode in stony anger, seated in the back of his car, he remembered the first time he had seen you.

Taehyung’s family was not old money, they had no old family ties with the rest of the elite. His father had been a part of the mafia, and the family thrived prosperously. But it still wasn’t enough to grant Taehyung the privileges Yoongi’s family enjoyed. He was invited to a lot of social gatherings, yes, but somehow he was always on a lower rung on the social ladder.

There were many events that Taehyung was excluded from. He and Yoongi never mingled. The tension in the room whenever he was in an elite gathering always made Taehyung queasy. He felt like everyone looked down on him, even if he had as much money as the rest of them. Their stares and whispers served to infuriate him, making him feel deeply resentful towards affluent families like the Min clan.

It was one such night when Taehyung had stormed out of a party hosted by one of Mrs.Min friends. He had felt passively insulted, and he had gone in an attempt to prevent screaming his head off. It had begun to drizzle, and just as he decided to turn back, he saw you.

You were walking towards the crosswalk, a book in hand. You were probably returning from a library. There was a serene vibe about you, and it drew him in completely. He watched as you waited for the light to turn green, turning your head up to feel the rain patter against your forehead. The little curve of your lips as the drops streamed down your face made his heart beat faster. Suddenly you seemed to remember about the book, and hugged it to yourself, covering it with your jacket. He stood rooted to the spot, unmindful of the rain that had begun to wet his clothes. He followed you till you reached your home, and smiled to himself after you closed the door behind you. He was going to get to know you.

It was incredibly easy to follow you around, thanks to your cute obliviousness. He soon found out all your favorite books, restaurants, coffeehouses and pubs. He never got tired of tagging behind you. It was a pleasant feeling to follow you when you flitted like a butterfly before him. Until you drove into the Min house one evening.

Taehyung parked a few blocks outside the gates, watching you each day as you drove in and out that wretched house. He was mad at you for consorting with that family. Every time, he calmed his rage by telling himself that you were just there on business. He would tell you to cut off all business ties with that snobbish family after he started dating you.

It was on a particularly windy night that he waited outside the gates, muttering impatiently under his breath. A storm was brewing, and he chided you in his mind for staying in too long. What would you do if it rained hard? The roads would be slippery, not to mention the low visibility that would threaten your safety. He was too caught up in his worry that he almost missed the sleek black car that sailed out of the gates. Just as he was about to dismiss it thinking it wasn’t your car anyway, he caught a glimpse of the riders. You. In Min Yoongi’s car.

Gripping the steering wheel tight enough to make his fingers numb, he turned on the ignition and tailed Yoongi’s car stealthily. He felt like his nerves could pop from all the rage. That was his woman in that bastard Yoongi’s car! A part of him wanted to see reason. It was raining hard, and you needed to get home. Maybe the Yoongi fellow would drop you at your house and get lost soon.

But all the amiable feelings drained out of his system when he saw Yoongi getting out and following you into the house. Hot angry tears pricked his eyes when you closed the door and locked it behind you. He ground his teeth, looking at his watch every five minutes, hoping to see Yoongi get out. Tough luck, there was no sign of Yoongi leaving in a hurry. He was shaking with anger for a good two hours before the door opened again. That was when he knew he had to destroy Min Yoongi.

Just like he had feared, you fell for that rich snob. He watched you go on dinners with Yoongi, and he knew time was running out. It was a rude shock to him when he found out you were engaged to Yoongi. So soon? God, that slimy wretch Min was moving so fast to secure you. Taehyung had no choice but to witness you grow closer and closer to Yoongi. And before he knew it, you were married. It was the first time in years he drunk himself to oblivion and passed out on the floor of his bar.

*****

Taehyung had been miserable for months after your wedding. He had been invited to the wedding of course, and he had watched another man put a ring on you and claim you as his own. There was a deep void in his heart, so deep that he couldn’t spend one waking moment without thinking of you. He wanted you, he was not going to let the wedding deter him. You had flown out of his reach, but he resolved to get you back. He was going to ruin Min Yoongi. The game had just started.

It was a stroke of luck for Taehyung when Yoongi’s father died and left his son to take care of all the businesses. Taehyung was a smart man, and he pounced on the opportunity to dig Yoongi’s trench. He plotted carefully, weighing his options. Finally, he decided to infiltrate the enemy lines and place a Trojan horse in the Min camp. That was how Wo Bin got to work in the enemy’s company.

Taehyung was proud of Wo Bin. The man was excellent at his job. He meticulously followed Taehyung’s instructions and went on to win Yoongi’s confidence. When Wo Bin completed two successful acquisitions for the Min Corporation, Taehyung knew that the time was ripe.

Slowly and steadily, Wo Bin drained the coffers, striking extravagant deals and sabotaging the company from the inside out. He convinced Yoongi that the deals were futuristic, and no harm was going to befall the company due to them. He could sense that Yoongi was uneasy, but he came up with ridiculously complex theories and shut him up for good. One weekend, when Yoongi was away at Melbourne for a deal, Wo Bin moved in for the kill.

Taehyung made sure that he was the first person who called to console Yoongi when he returned from Melbourne and found himself neck-deep in debt. Taehyung started moving with the utmost caution to secure his traps. He struck up a cordial relationship with Yoongi, calling on him and arranging friendly meetings to 'cheer him up’. That was how Yoongi wound up in a bar with Taehyung, drinking away his sorrows and slurring his words as he told Taehyung of how badly he had been cheated by his manager.

It was not until he made Yoongi sufficiently drunk that Taehyung turned on his smooth charm. He buttered up to the man, gushing on how he wished to help. He was fishing for a reaction and Yoongi promptly gave him one.

“Really? You- you will lend me money to settle off my investors?”

Taehyung smiled smoothly, turning his glass in his hand. God, the man was so gullible.

“Sure. If that’s what you want.”

“I can’t believe this. 5 million dollars? Are you sure?”

“Hey, it’s just a few millions. The important thing is that I’m getting to help you out.” He struggled to keep the victorious smirk off his face as Yoongi fell for it hard. This was going perfectly according to plan.

So Yoongi borrowed the first 5 million from Taehyung. But to his surprise, it was becoming increasingly difficult to settle all his investors. The prices kept climbing up, and within no time he found himself borrowing 5 million more. And then the 5 million turned into 10 million and he felt like it was just in a blink of an eye that his total loan amounted to 50 million.

Taehyung had finally trapped Yoongi for good. As all the memories flashed in his mind, Taehyung grinned to himself. He had succeeded in reducing his enemy to dust. And he would soon have his reward: You.

*****

You lay terribly cramped on the platform, unable to move in fear of falling down. There were sure to be sunburn on your face. The fingers that had held on to the sides of the platform were now numb and senseless. You watched the sky turn orange, pink and purple, the colors amplified by the sea. Finally, the sky wore a deep blue cloak and stars came out twinkling. A chill breeze picked up salt from the sea and blew around you, smelling like fish and seaweed. The coldness wrapped around you like a blanket, engulfing you in the overwhelming smell of the sea. You could almost taste the salt in the air. There was a ship below which looked spectacular, decked in lights. The lights made you feel warm, and you kept wondering about all the lucky people who would be in that bright, cheerful ship.

You didn’t know when you had fallen asleep. But dawn was beginning to break according to the hues of the sky. You woke with a jolt when you dreamt of falling, and it was in sheer horror that you watched your slipper drop down the platform. You peeked over the edge and saw your slipper hurtling down. It became a speck as it touched the water, and a chill ran up your back when you saw the faint ripples that swallowed it and became calm again. You had to get out of there.

Where could you go? You had no home. Taehyung probably had men at the hotel you had stayed at previously. Yoongi still was in danger. You smelt like rotten fish. God, you had to wash up. The salt in the air had made your skin annoyingly sticky. The sun would soon be up, cars would start moving, and soon the platform would heat up again. Getting up and fighting the killer cramps in your legs, you held on to the suspender cables. Balancing your weight on the tips of your toes, you scanned the deck. There was very little traffic.

Making sure to grab the cables, you jumped up and caught hold of a rail. Good. Now all you had to do was pull yourself up. Easier said than done. After 30 minutes of cussing and panting, your feet were on the deck again.

This side of the city was clearly under construction. It was probably noon, but heavy rain clouds were gathering above you. As you jogged on, you could see trenches dug out and sealed off with construction tape, probably for road works. Some of them were pretty big and connected to successive trenches, almost like a muddy subway along the road. You were too absorbed in jogging to see a car tailing you. In a couple of minutes, two more cars joined it. The first drops of rain fell, and you decided to cut across the alleyways and wait out the rain.

Just as you turned and entered a lane, you ran smack into a car. The hood was hot, and you leaped back. The headlights blinked at you through the sheets of rain.

“Sorry. My bad.”

You attempted to walk around when you saw three cars blocking your path from the back. They slowly receded to a distance and blinked their lights and you turned again to see someone stepping out from the car before you. Him.

“Well, quite the chase, baby doll.”

He draped his arm over the door, watching you. The rain made your shirt transparent, causing it to stick to your body in the most delicious ways. The cold had made your nipples harden, and the nubs were poking against the shirt. His mind went into a frenzy as he took in the way the raindrops beaded on your face.

“Let’s go home now.” He advanced towards you, extending his arm.

“No.”

“Now now, baby girl, it is useless to keep resisting.”

“I will resist until I die.” Tears mixed with the rain, flowing down your face in torrents.

“We have all the time in the world for that.”

He pulled you against him, sniffing your hair loudly, making you cringe. With a harsh shove, he sent you flying into the car.

Your wet clothes were ruining his car, but to hell with that. He had found you. Reaching over a slender finger, he clicked the lock on your side of the door in place. The outline of your body was still visible through the sheer clothes, making his mouth water. God, was he going to have fun with you.

You had no way of escaping. The door was locked and the car was zooming past the trenches. Your eyes wandered to Taehyung’s side. And then you saw it. His side was unlocked. But how to get over there? Unless… ugh. But that was the only way to do it.

It was a surprise to Taehyung when you slid closer to him, face stony. He was even more surprised when you threw a hand over his lean, firm thigh. When you threw a leg over him and made a move as if to straddle him, his eyebrows shot up. Your eyes were closed, so he could not read the expression on your face. The wet clothes soaked through his pants and gave him gooseflesh. Eyes still closed, you slowly rutted against him, holding on to both his shoulders. Oh, Sweet God, how hot you looked, grinding against him, hair plastered against your forehead and water dripping from the ends of your locks onto his shirt. A sharp pang of want shot through the length of his dick and he moaned out loud. Before he knew it, you were gone.

As soon as he had closed his eyes with a moan, you had clicked his door open and jumped out, rolling on the muddy sloshy road.

When he found out and yelled to the driver to stop, he was too late. You were nowhere to be found. The beating rain made it harder to see. Muddy rivulets were running everywhere, dark brown and dirty. His body trembled in murderous rage on realizing that you had deceived him. Bitch. He pulled out a glinting object from his coat pocket. He gritted his teeth as he twirled your wedding ring in his fingers. The diamond sparkled and glinted at him as if laughing at his folly. He could almost shoot himself for being so foolish as to believe your little stunt. When Kim Taehyung flew out of his car, he was fit to murder.

*****

It was fortunate that there was no proper road where you had fallen. You had quickly rolled into a trench and stayed there. From your vantage point, you could see the trench extending on either way like a mini subway. You couldn’t stay there; the goons might check out the trenches too. So, with your head lowered, you crawled forward, palms splashing in the mud and splattering bright brown stains all over your clothes.

A good many yard later, the trenches grew deeper, meaning that you could now stand and still not be visible by anyone who wasn’t looking into the trenches. But by now, gravity had found its way and all the runoff from the rain was pouring into the dugout pits. As you walked further, you found with growing alarm that the water level was almost to your knees and still rising. The walking turned into wading, and the water never ceased flowing into the pits. A few blocks farther, the pits came to an abrupt end. There was no way to move forward. And when you turned back, there was no way to go back either.

The open tunnel was filling fast, and the muddy walls looked like they were going to collapse and fall in, burying you alive. The road was a few feet above your head, there was no way you could jump out of this muddy maze. The water was now up to your chest. So, this was it. This was how you were going to die. Drowned in a trench, muddied beyond recognition. But hey, better than being ravaged and killed by Taehyung.

Arms outstretched, you fumbled blindly around, even as your chin dipped in the water. Just a few more minutes and you’d drown. Helplessness made you wilder, and suddenly your fingers found purchase at a rock jutting out of the mud. Stepping on it, you heaved your weight on it, launching yourself a couple of inches upwards. Okay great, your chin was out of the water. But it soon would be in the water again. Shifting all your weight on one foot, you swung the other foot hard at the crude wall on your side. No harm in seeing if you could get out. It might fall in, but you would die either way.

On the third hit, your foot lodged well into the wall. Moment of truth. You shifted your weight to the foot on the wall and heaved up. When you opened your eyes again, you were still alive, the wall supporting your body and not crumbling as you had feared. One more swing. Another. Another. In a few minutes, you were lying on the mud outside the trenches, spitting out dirt and sputtering. There was a dump truck some feet away that looked deserted. Carefully scanning the path for any suspected goons, you hurried to the truck, crawling underneath, tucking yourself there and hoping to stay hidden till the rain stopped.

From under the truck, you could see a couple of cars whizzing past on the dirt road along the trenches. Suddenly, one of them stopped and three guys got out. They walked the length of the road and turned to leave when a guy abruptly turned and peeped into the flooded trench. The howling wind made it unable to clearly hear his voice, and you could only catch “… would have drowned if she had.” The men shrugged and walked back to the car, disappearing from view a couple minutes later.

There was only blank silence in your head as you lay under the truck. There were no thoughts, your mind was completely numb. Too much had happened in too little time, so your mind just blocked all the emotions out. Every part of your body screamed in agony. Damage was a sure thing if you threw yourself out of a speeding car. Throw in a muddy adventure with a near-death experience and you had one hell of a pain cocktail. The rain started to grow lighter, and soon you had to get going again. But where to? Damn the pounding headache that kicked in to add to your misery. Where could you go?

*****

Jung Hoseok had been stirring his coffee and looking out the window for a long time. He liked the rain, but only when he was not getting wet in it. The street looked deserted, everyone was probably huddled around the fire in their homes, sipping hot drinks. He turned to his wife Bo Na, who was reading a book.

“Leaves on the trees outside are all clean and green.”

She nodded, too engrossed in her book to comment. He looked out again. “Seems like they all had a shower and dressed up fresh.” She nodded again.

“I married an idiot.”

She almost nodded, caught herself and scowled, hitting him with the book. He laughed, pulling the book playfully.

“I wanted to check if you were paying attention, hon.” He was still laughing when he looked outside again, and the smile slowly faded.

“What is it, Hobi? What do you see?” His wife was now paying him attention.

“There’s a person all muddied up, walking down the street. Poor bugger. Homeless, probably.”

“What?” His wife stood up and craned her head to see better. “Oh yes, poor thing.”

Hoseok looked at the figure as it drew closer and suddenly stood up, toppling his coffee.

“Holy shit. That’s Y/N!”

He rushed to the door, yanking it open to reveal a figure completely caked with mud, with hair matted and dried up in brown clumps.

As soon as the door opened, you fell forward, sagging against him bodily, effectively passing out.

It was eighteen hours later that you opened your eyes. You were in bed, and a dull ache in your head made you wince. When you tried to turn, a jolting pain shot through your arm, startling you. And then all the memories came flooding back. You shot up in bed, looking down at yourself. Everything was clean, your skin, palms, clothes, feet, everything. The pajamas were not yours, they were baby blue, not the soiled mess you had been wearing before. There were Band-Aids on your arms, and you smelled fresh. Your hair felt soft and mud-free and you caught the familiar whiff of coconuts. Bo Na’s shampoo.

There was a pitcher of water on the bedside table. Just as you leaned over to reach it, a man came bounding inside, crushing you in a hug.

“Y/N! You scared me shitless! Thank God!”

“Hobi,” you managed to whisper, “How long was I out?”

“18 hours. What the hell were you doing, digging a tunnel to China?”

“Hobi - I …” you paused, lowering your head. “I’m hungry. Starving.”

“Oh yes, wait a sec. Let me get you something hot.”

When he returned, Bo Na was with him, a worried look on her face. Both of them wisely held their silence as you gobbled up all the pasta ravenously. When you were done, you fell back on the pillows, sighing contentedly. But guilt immediately set in, chilling your heart. Yoongi. Would he be starving? Would those bastards have provided him food? Water? Involuntary tears welled up and rolled down your cheeks.

“Hey,” Hoseok advanced, flicking a tear away with his finger. “What is it? What happened?”

And you told your friends what had happened, not leaving out a single detail. They listened with eyes that grew wider and wider in shock. Your voice caught several times, and Hoseok sat beside you, rubbing small circles on your back. When you finished, Bo Na’s mouth was set in a straight line.

“The sick bastard.”

She reached out and took your hand, squeezing it. “We will find Yoongi, Y/N. Let us go to the police.”

Hoseok shook his head. “There’s no proof to show that Taehyung did everything Y/N just said. No offense Y/N, I believe you completely. But the police might not. There’s no proof.”

“So?” Bo Na crossed her arms. “So, what else can we do? She already paid him back.”

“No proof of that either.”

You sat up, interjecting them. “But Bong Ju is a witness. He knows I went to Taehyung and paid the money back.”

“That’s right. So, what do we do now?”

Your forehead creased in thought. “Maybe… I’ll go to him and ask him what we should do? He might suggest something.”

“That’s like relying on crumbs, Y/N. No solid plan.” Hoseok stared into your eyes with frank honesty.

“I know, Hobi. But we can’t go to the police. Taehyung might seriously injure Yoongi if he knew we went to the police.”

“True, again. Well, in that case, let’s go to Bong Ju’s. I’ll drive you there.”

“That might risk your life, Hobi.”

“No probs. You are my best friend. Now come on, get dressed. Bo Na, lend some clothes to Y/N, honey.”

*****

You didn’t have your phone to look up Bong Ju’s number. You found him on the yellow pages and called ahead to let him know. When you turned to hand back the phone to Hoseok, he looked at you quizzically.

“What was that for?”

“What was what?”

He sighed. “Why call him? You know thugs are scouring the place to find you.”

You bit your lip. “I wanted to make sure he was at his place. Didn’t want to risk your neck twice in case he wasn’t.”

“Right.” Your friend still shook his head and went to the door. “Let’s go Y/N.”

When the car pulled up outside Bong Ju’s house, you had a sudden bout of anxiety. Would there be an ambush? You weren’t even sure if Bong Ju was genuine after all. You stepped out, whispering to Hoseok to wait down the street.

“I’ll be back in a bit.”

He nodded and eased the car down the road, and you turned to look at the house. As you took a step forward, you caught a movement out of the corner of your eye. The whole street was deserted, despite it being a fine day. Something felt odd. Maybe you should turn back? What you saw next made up your mind.

The window overlooking the street was open, and there were shadows on the wall of the room. Several round ones, like human heads. And one distinct one. A gun. Time to get the hell out of the place. You turned on your heel and pelted down the street, hearing a loud crash behind you as the door swung open. Burly guys ran out, hot on your heels. Shit, how much more running could you do?

You raced to the car, but there was no Hoseok in it.

“HOSEOK??” you screamed at the top of your lungs.

The guys were closer now, you had to make a run for it. Where was Hobi? You jumped in and searched for the keys. They were gone. “Shit, shit, shit. Not now” you were boiling with rage. Where the hell was Hoseok? A guy reached the car door and thrust his hand at you. Anger made you braver than ever, and you bit his arm with all your might. Kicking the door open and hitting his groin with a hard kick, you pushed him aside and fled down the street. By then, you were familiar with fleeing successfully. Taking detours through alleys and narrow lanes, you threw the guys off your scent and hid out in an apartment’s parking lot for some time, just to make sure.

*****

You had to take elaborate round-about lanes to go back to Hoseok’s. Taehyung’s stupid sons of bitches were everywhere, cropping up like mushrooms. Maybe your friend had already returned home. But Hoseok’s car was not in the garage. He had not come back. At least his car had not.

Maybe he had called Bo Na and informed her of his whereabouts. As you stepped in, the carpet muffling your footfalls, you heard Bo Na sobbing into the phone.

“I will send - I will send her.” There was a pause to accommodate a violent fit of sobs. “Please let him go.” A longer pause. “No no no, have her, take her, do whatever you want. Just give me my Hoseok back.”

You stood rooted to the spot, stunned. She sobbed and pleaded, emphasizing how much Hoseok meant to her. To be precise, how less you meant to her. With a final nod that the caller would never see, she hung up and turned to see you staring at her, openmouthed.

“Y/N! I - I never meant…”

“Save your breath, Bo Na.” You cast a hard glare at her. But inwardly you were shriveling up with guilt. It was true that Hoseok was in danger because of you. That was a hard fact. When you spoke again, your voice was barely a whisper.

“I’m sorry I inconvenienced both of you. And I’m sorry Hobi is in trouble because of me.” You wiped the corner of your eyes. “I will go to Taehyung. I’m sorry for all this. You will never see me again.”

“Y/N, it’s not like that -”

“It’s alright. I will get going now.” You turned and made for the door, and you had cleared the doorway when she ran up behind you and clutched your arm.

“Y/N, please. Please listen to me. I’m sorry.” She pulled your arm again. “Let me help you.”

“You’ve helped me enough, Bo Na.” As you tried to shrug her off, she held her ground and hissed angrily.

“Shut UP! Fucking shut up and listen, okay?” She loosened her grip, exhaling slowly. “I talked to one of my friends who knows someone who works for Taehyung. There’s no solid proof but it seems like Yoongi is not in Taehyung’s mansion right now. He’s somewhere else, in one of Taehyung’s luxury cottages. I got the general description of the place without asking the address straight out and raising suspicion.”

There was no word to describe your feelings, so you grasped her by the shoulders and blinked away tears. “Tell me more.”

She gave you a small note on which she had scrawled her friend’s description. “Don’t go to Taehyung’s. He will never take you to Yoongi. Go to the cottage.”

You nodded, staring at the paper in your hand.

Her voice broke again, and she whispered again.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I could never apologize enough. But wait, let me get you something.” She ran off and returned with a drawstring bag. “I’ve packed a flashlight, knife and a lighter in here. Take my car.”

She held out the bag, and you accepted it wordlessly. She tossed her keys, nodding at you in silence. With a hug, you turned and walked out.

*****

It wasn’t difficult to find Taehyung’s cottage. But getting in would be a whole other story. There were armed guys outside the gates, and it was not a quaint little place you had imagined it to be. The building was massive, almost the same size as his mansion, the only difference being more trees and shrubs on the grounds. It most certainly could be called a chateau. The sun was casting long shadows, it would soon be twilight. You decided it would be easier to wait and slink in the shadows after darkness fell.

While you waited in the car, you formed a mental image of how you were going to get in. There was barbed fencing on the walls, but whatever, you could scale them. Something had changed you. Jumping over fences and tackling armed guys was completely out of your league. But you found yourself not scared in the least. The man you loved was trapped in there. Your best friend was held somewhere too. Nothing would scare you off.

It was a full moon that shone down at you when you scaled the wall, silently cursing as the barbs tore through Bo Na’s jeans and drew blood. The drop from the wall was equally efficient in drawing more curses as you limped into the shadows. Once positioned in the shadows, you slowly slunk from tree to tree, staying in the shadows and moving whenever the coast was clear. Your adrenaline made your vision crystal clear; every sense was on high alert. Hands trembling, you scaled a wall again and landed on the corridor of the second floor with a soft thud.

Digging out the flashlight, you gripped it without turning it on. Yoongi had to be somewhere dark. Maybe this place had a basement. If you ever had a captive, you would surely have him tied up in the basement. Trying to make the least sound possible, you softly padded down the stairs until there were no more steps. But this place was no basement. It was only an empty dark space with no rooms, only pillars. Just as you turned to go back up, your foot hit a hard metal object on the floor, and you had to clamp your mouth shut to avoid screaming. You knelt down to inspect, running your fingers on the floor. It was a trap door.

So, there was a basement. But there should be another entrance to the basement, you were sure. Taehyung the high-and-mighty would not prefer jumping down a trap door. An entrance had to be inside the cottage itself, from where anyone could get in. Well, in that case, maybe there wouldn’t be guards guarding the trap door. It was probable they were posted near the other entrance. It would be an advantage for you. The door was a heavy bitch that refused to budge. Your ears buzzed with the effort as you heaved it up, panting and wheezing. You peered down and saw a dim light down below, and cracked marble flooring. There was no ladder to climb down.

It was a gamble to jump down. There might be someone there, who might see or hear you. There was also the light to be wary of. Lying down, you crawled and balanced yourself on your arms till you could hang your head down the entrance. There was no one as far as you could see. It was a tough call, but you decided to jump.

The sound of your shoes hitting the marble was like a gunshot, at least to you it sounded loud enough. You ran like the wind and ducked in a corner, waiting to see if someone had heard you. The basement had a marble corridor that outlined four rooms. The doors were all shut, and a single worn-out light illuminated the whole area. The steps leading down to the basement was at the very end of the corridor, they probably led up to some unused room in the cottage. Your worry was none of these. The doors. Yoongi was behind one of them. But there were four. What if you opened the wrong door?

A quick sweep of your eyes told you there were no guards around. At least for the moment. With a beating heart, you raced through the corridor, having a quick look at all the doors and reaching the stairs at the end. You crouched under the staircase, revisiting all four doors in your mind. Two had been unbolted, so they could be eliminated. The door closest to the stairs would probably be the one. It was easier to reach from the stairs, and the bolt had looked like it had been oiled recently. You decided to risk it and open that one.

*****

Taehyung was generous with his guys; he took good care of them. It made his goons like working for him. They were unfazed by his unscrupulous deeds. Hell, he was a rich bastard who paid them well. His guys were loyal to him and were ready to move Heaven and Earth to get him what he wanted. And now he wanted you.

Taehyung’s guards were not picked easily. They were former soldiers, dishonorably discharged army men, martial artists and such. Only the best of the bad lot served him. They were already fuming that a woman had outrun them not once but thrice. They had their best men combing the county for you. And the best gunmen patrolled the corridors of the cottage.

One such guard had just finished his patrol on the first floor. He methodically went down the stairs, even if he knew there might be no one down there. He stopped in his tracks when he saw a dull light cutting through the darkness. The trap door was open.

*****

It was incredibly dark inside the room. There was an old musty smell that slapped your face as soon as you opened the door. You could not make out anything in the darkness. Should you risk using the flashlight? Just as you weighed the options, a faint clink of metal on metal reached your ears. It sounded like a metal chain. Restraints? Your heart skipped a beat and you punched on the flashlight. The bright beam illuminated a long chain of metal. You ran the beam along the chain and stopped when it hit a figure curled up in a ball.

“Yoongi?”

Your whisper caused the figure to move, and the person sat up, facing the opposite direction as the chains clinked with his movements. It was Yoongi. It was your husband. You ran towards him, a sob catching in your throat. There was a muffled mumble that sounded like your name. You raced to him, slamming onto his back in a tight hug. He was handcuffed, a gag was muffling him, and there was blindfold in place, obscuring his sight.

“Baby, baby,” you sobbed, tearing at the cloth and freeing his eyes.

The gag went flying too, as your fingers gripped it and yanked it hard. You draped yourself on his back, hugging his neck like a koala. He winced in pain, and you drew back in horror.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” you crooned, squatting before him and taking in his face.

There were ugly black bruises around his eyes and more fresh purple ones along his cheek. His shirt had dried blood stains on it, and you lifted it gently to inspect his abdomen. There were bruises all over him, fresh and old, in varying colors ranging from blue to black. Your eyes fell on the metal chains and then your heart sank. Bo Na had anticipated ropes and had armed you with a knife. But these were metal. You couldn’t cut through metal with a knife. You leaned over and nuzzled your forehead against Yoongi’s.

“I’m sorry baby. I - I thought I could save you.” You sobbed out a bitter laugh. “At least I am with you. I let you down.”

He shook his head, wincing as he did so.

“No.” His voice was raspy. “I failed you. I was a fool. I couldn’t,” his face contorted in pain, “-I couldn’t protect you.”

You set the flashlight down, pulling him gently towards you and cradling him against your bosom.

“No honey, don’t say that. I love you, baby.” His face felt so bony. “God, they’ve starved you.”

You leaned in to kiss him, and you were gently brushing his lips when the light suddenly came on, blinding you and flooding the room with radiance. A man stood framed in the doorway, looking at you with cruel eyes. A slow grin spread over his features as he took in your startled eyes. Without a word, he stepped back, closed the door and bolted it, trapping you in with Yoongi.

*****

The door closed behind the guard, leaving Yoongi and you stunned. There was a sound of metal dropping on marble. And the next thing you saw was wisps of some vapor seeping into the room, curling around, the fine mist clearly visible in flashlight’s beam. The vapor grew in volume, oppressing the air around you and making you dizzy. And that was the last thing you remembered seeing before collapsing into unconsciousness.

When you came to, you were in a different room. A bright one. Your vision was hazy, and your mind was still groggy. You could feel your body, there were no ropes or restraints. Gingerly supporting yourself on your arms, you tried to sit upright. The sudden movement gave you a terrible headrush, and the room started spinning.

“Slowly, my princess.”

That voice. That damned deep voice again. You snapped your head to the side to see Kim Taehyung standing there in a full black suit, leaning casually against a glass wall. As your vision cleared, you saw that the glass was a partition. You jumped up and pounded on the glass. There, on the other side of the glass was Yoongi, head bowed and hands restrained. A long chain was wound around his waist, and the other end was attached firmly to a loop embedded in the wall.

Taehyung looked like he was enjoying himself.

“You came for me.”

You gritted your teeth in anger and snapped, “I came for Yoongi.”

“Yoongi! Yoongi!” You yelled yourself hoarse, balling your fists and hitting the glass. But he didn’t look up. Fear crawled all over you, and you shouted even louder.

“He won’t hear you, love. The glass is soundproof.” Taehyung did not move a muscle. “Maybe you’d like if I made him look your way?”

You did not answer, lips pursing up and trembling as sobs threatened to tear out of your body.

“Well, use your words, sugar.”

“Please, please just…”

He looked down at his shoes, bored. “Please what?”

Tears blurred your vision again. “Please let him go.”

“For what in return?”

“I - I gave you the money.”

“Oh, for God’s sakes, Y/N. I don’t care about the money.”

“But… but you wanted…”

“Yeah yeah but I got more than twice my money back. You are a great borrower.”

“What?” You wished he wouldn’t talk in circles. “What do you mean?”

“Who do you think gave you the mortgage on all your estates? Your house?” He paused for dramatic effect and reached into his coat pocket, dangling his trump card with a smirk. “Who bought your ring?”

You gasped, your lips forming an O, completely unable to believe it. Kim Taehyung got you to pledge all of your worldly possessions to him, and took the money you made from pledging it too? How cruel and twisted could a man be?

He enjoyed the look on your face, letting you work out things in your head before speaking. As you stood there stunned, he typed something on his phone. In a few seconds, the door on Yoongi’s side opened, and a guy came in. He landed a swift kick on Yoongi’s middle, waking him up from unconsciousness. There were two more kicks, and then the guy went out and closed the door behind him.

You watched Yoongi raise his head and take in the surroundings. Then his eyes landed on you. He instinctively rushed to move to the glass, but the chain around his waist jerked him back, making him bend over in pain.

Taehyung didn’t want Yoongi stealing his thunder. He cleared his voice, keeping it smooth and silky.

“You know, you made it so easy for me. Bong Ju told me it was a piece of cake to get you to mortgage all the property. Pity you wouldn’t agree to mortgage yourself though.”

“Bong Ju? He’s your man too? You bastard!”

The man simply chuckled. He dug his hands into the pockets of his pants.

“The important thing you have to consider now is,” he walked a couple of steps towards you, whispering, “I bought you out.”

He paused as he swung to take a look at poor Yoongi, still fighting the chains and grimacing in pain.

“You have nothing in the world, nothing except that loser over there. And I’ll take care of that too. But trust me, you won’t be orphaned. You’ll be mine. You’ll be a queen.”

There was nothing left to do except beg. You knelt down, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Please, please just let him go, Taehyung.”

His eyes flickered and he swallowed thickly. “Oh, I love it when you say my name.”

You stayed down on your knees, clasping your palms together as if in prayer. “Please don’t do this, Taehyung. Hoseok and Yoongi did nothing to deserve this.”

He snorted. “Hoseok? Oh, that bastard is already home. And as for him,” his eyes swung at Yoongi with venom, “He has done a lot to deserve this. He stole you from me. He married you and gave you his name.” The nerve running down the middle of his forehead almost popped in his murderous rage. “I could kill him for that.”

“Please, Taehyung. I’ll never cross your path again. Please stop this. I love him, I love Yoongi.”

“SHUT UP!” His voice made you jump, as the veins of his throat stood out due to the exertion. “I had him alive for so long as leverage, to draw you here. But I don’t need him anymore.”

“But- but”

“Enough of this chit-chat. Get here, tell me you’ll be mine.”

“No.” You stood up, furiously brushing the tears from your cheeks. “I’d rather be dead.”

You took a weak karate stance, it was hopeless, but you were not going to give up. He feigned surprise, crossing his hand over his heart.

“Oh, darling. How cute you are!” He came closer, clasping your hands in his. “Don’t be naive. Let me give you a tip.” He pulled you closer, pointing his finger at the tied-up Yoongi.

“Look at his forehead. Look closely.”

Your breath hitched in your throat when you saw what Taehyung pointed at. It was a red laser dot on Yoongi’s forehead, it was certainly from a gun’s laser sight. But there was no one else in the room apart from you, Yoongi and Taehyung. Who was aiming at Yoongi?

Taehyung loved the mix of fear and confusion on your face. He pulled you snug against him, rutting his hips slowly as your husband’s mouth moved in silent screams from the other side of the glass. The sounds were completely blocked by the glass, and Yoongi’s face turned red as he yelled himself hoarse.

Taehyung enjoyed this little show. He was going to claim you before Yoongi. He was going to show that bastard who owned you. All those times his family was insulted in social gatherings came tumbling back, making him lose his mind. Min Yoongi was going to die a loser, knowing that his wife was claimed by his rival.

Yoongi started crying, trying his best to pull himself closer to the glass. His face was covered in tears, wet and red from all the struggle. He closed his eyes and pulled himself forward, trying hard to stop the chain from crushing his midsection. You could almost hear him groan in pain, teeth bared as he charged towards the glass, hitting his palms against it in helpless anger.

The hand around your waist tightened. “Poor boy. Look at him strain. I think he deserves to see a good show before dying, don’t you?”

Your voice cracked down to a whisper. “Please don’t do this, Taehyung.”

“Wow, you sound so sexy with my name rolling off your tongue.”

He pushed you against the glass so Yoongi could see you closer. Your husband could not stand up, not without the chain breaking his ribs. He remained crouched, hands against the glass and eyes pleading, hot tears streaming down. The glass was the only wall that separated Yoongi and you.

Taehyung pushed himself against you, trapping you between his body and the glass.

“Someone brought a knife in a rucksack, hmm?” His hot breath fanned the shell of your ear. Your eyes were looking down, solely focused on the man who was on the other side of the glass. A strong leg pushed your knees apart, grazing your core. “Naughty little girl.”

“Taeh-”

“Shhh.” He grabbed a fistful of hair, sniffing it with deep breaths. “You don’t want him to die, do you?” His hot tongue licked a line along your jaw. “Then stay quiet.”

His large hands roamed your upper body, finding purchase on your breasts, gently kneading them as he moaned in lust. The glass vibrated against your body, as Yoongi beat against it, mouth moving in what clearly were angry expletives. This was the worst kind of torture a man could ever be subjected through, and you wanted to die and be gone before Taehyung went any further.

Fresh hot tears rolled down your closed eyelids when you felt the bulge pressing against your back as the man ground his hips against you. His hands continued kneading the soft flesh, and he twisted the nubs of your nipples, making you gasp and keen into his chest. He trailed soft butterfly kisses on your shoulder blades, one hand reaching between your legs and cupping your hot clothed core.

“Please, please don’t do this to Yoongi.” Your voice was heavily impacted by the sobs that racked your body.

“Oh baby,” he kissed your shoulder as he murmured, “you need privacy?” His cupped hand massaged your core, making you tremble. “This is the last he’ll see of you. Do you really want to cut that time short?”

“N-No.”

“Then just be a good girl and stop talking.” His hand gripped the zipper of your jeans, and you crouched down instinctively, delaying it as much as possible. He laughed lightly. Your crouched position was in level with Yoongi’s tired body on the other side.

“Want to save his neck some pain? I’m game.”

He knelt down, pushing his body against yours, spreading your body flush against the glass. Yoongi looked so miserable that you just couldn’t face him. The laser dot was still very much in place on his forehead. Taehyung tried prying your legs apart, but you just wouldn’t budge.

“Y/N, honey, I would love more foreplay. But not now, just open your legs.”

You didn’t reply. Nor did you move. A violent push sent your head banging against the glass, and two very strong hands dragged your jeans down, ripping the zipper open in the process. Yoongi threw himself at the glass, face utterly contorted in pain, the chain taut as it cut against his flesh.

Taehyung’s hands mercilessly tore the denim away from your legs, the big palms kneading the flesh of your bottom. You pressed your forehead against the glass, looking defeatedly at your husband crying on the other side.

Taehyung was practically salivating at having you in his grasp. This was an encounter he would never forget. His cheeks flushed at the sight of your bare legs and rotund butt. The white underwear was simple, but to him, it was incredibly hot. The fact that Yoongi was just on the other side, watching all of it in humiliation made him heady with lust. He dug a finger under the waistband and ripped the underwear off. You were wriggling far too much for his liking. He thrust an arm against the back of your neck, pinning your head in position, as he took in the view. He licked his lips and aligned his hips so he was spooning you. He was aching to be inside you already. The glass was made of special reinforced material, and he smirked at Yoongi lazily as the crying man pounded against the glass, pleading him to stop.

You had no choice but to stay put. You had to distract your mind from what Taehyung was doing. Your eyes focused on the red dot on Yoongi’s forehead. You just could not look Yoongi in the eye. Not when he was crying and screaming what looked like your name from the movement of his lips. You just wished it would be over soon.

There was the unmistakable sound of fingers unbuckling a belt. And then the sound of a zipper being pulled down. Within seconds, you could feel hot muscle pressed against your back. You were amazed that you still hadn’t shriveled up and died. The hand against your neck was removed. Just as quickly, you were pulled back, dragged by the waist and pushed down on all fours. You tried to keep your hips flat against the marble, but a sharp volley of slaps rained down upon your butt before your hips were forced into position.

Taehyung’s grip on your hips were as tight and hard as iron. You tried raising your body, only to be pushed down again with brutal force. Losing no time, Taehyung rammed himself inside you. He had been hard for so long, and the relief as he plunged into you drew a feral moan deep from his chest. You were too tight, and he grabbed your hair as he hissed at you.

“Fucking let me in, Y/N.”

He received no reply, not that he expected one. He could sense your body heaving, as strong sobs shook your entire being. He saw you raise your head a teeny bit, just to look at Yoongi in dismay. He picked up his pace, sending your head banging against the glass as he dove into you with each snap of his hips. He maintained an unforgiving pace, punctuating his thrusts with moans that almost chilled your blood.

“See how well I fit you, Y/N? You were made for me, baby.”

You had to say it. You couldn’t take it anymore. You had been waiting for Yoongi to be the first one to know. But it had to be said now. It couldn’t wait longer.

“I’m pregnant.” Your whisper came out sounding incredibly hoarse.

Taehyung’s hips stilled. There was a heavy silence, Yoongi’s hands beating the glass was the only mild noise in the otherwise quiet room.

“What?”

“I’m - carrying Yoongi’s baby.”

Taehyung’s jaw clenched. “Does he know?”

“I haven’t yet-” A big hand clamped your mouth shut as he hissed urgently in your ear.

“He shouldn’t.”

You remained silent, and he started thrusting more viciously.

He punctuated each word he spoke with a thrust. “Do.you.understand?”

You had to tell Yoongi. You knew that. Taehyung might kill Yoongi anytime. You did not know what to do. Should you die too? But if you did, the only other living piece of Yoongi would die with you. Whichever way this went, Yoongi had to know.

Taehyung was watching you as he plunged himself into you. Yoongi should never know about the baby. He should die a loser. He had to make sure it remained that way. He saw the red bleary eyes of the man opposite him. He read defeat clearly in those eyes. That should not change.

You tried to make eye contact with your husband. It was incredibly mortifying to look at him as another man pounded into you. But you had to convey the message. You had meant to tell him previously, but you had been unexpectedly gassed and knocked out cold. As soon as you saw him looking at you, your heart broke into a million pieces. The man staring at you was not your husband. He was just a shell of the man he had been. All the light had gone from his eyes. He was in a way already dead.

You mouthed the words urgently, but he just stared at you blankly.

“Baby, focus.” You prayed that he could make out the words. “I’m.” You pointed at yourself. “Pregnant.”

He still looked blank, there was no recognition. Taehyung was still going at it, and you decided to hazard a mime by pointing at your belly.

Just as your hands pointed to your belly and Yoongi’s eyebrows shot up, there was a splash of red all over the glass. You recoiled in fright, confused and scared. And then you saw. The red trickled down the glass, clearing the field to reveal a sight that would be burned into your memory forever. Taehyung finished with a long drawn out moan, spilling himself inside you. His lips curled in a sick smirk. His sniper certainly deserved a raise. And a bonus.

*****

Three years later

You had grown to be scared of the bedroom. Not only because of the things Taehyung did to you but also because of the nightmares. It was always the same horrible image of Yoongi’s bloodied face maimed beyond recognition. The blood splatters on the glass. The vacant eyes and the raised eyebrows that had stilled forever. It came back to haunt you every night, there was absolutely nothing that could erase it from your mind.

Every night was a battle. The bedroom made your heart wilt, it left you scared of sleeping. Every time your head hit the pillow, it made your chest tighten and burn like it was on fire. Just the thought of the approaching nightfall made your evenings anxious and dismal. It had been three years already, but you still half-expected Yoongi to come back and hug you, quoting Woolf in your ears in the softest of whispers. The only little part of Yoongi that was still alive was your daughter. Your baby girl made with the love that overflowed between Yoongi and you.

Taehyung had originally intended to destroy the baby. He did not want that man’s child growing up in his house. Those eyes and dark hair reminded him of his enemy every time he saw the child. He did not care for the girl; she was just a nuisance for him. But he knew that she was the only thread tying you to the world. If he snapped it, he might have to lose you too. So, he gritted his teeth and bore it, trying his best to steer clear of your daughter.

He had married you and given you his name. It was forced, of course, you had had no say in it. But much to his chagrin, the little bastard girl did not take his name. You had flat out refused to give her his surname. She remained the only Min in your world, the only little comfort in your otherwise horrible life.

It made your skin crawl whenever you felt Taehyung’s touch on you. It kept reminding you of the first time he took you in that room, letting your husband watch in humiliation. You could never ever forgive Taehyung for that.

Taehyung’s patience was wearing thin. He had let you keep that little horror, the mini version of Yoongi he so despised. He had given you ample time to get adjusted to him. What more was he expected to do? Just watching you tend to your daughter made him boil in rage. It was his child that you should be tending to. He was at a loss to understand how you still were not with his child, after all his efforts and precautions. He badly wanted to trap you and make you finally his. What better than a child to seal the deal?

*****

It was a cold winter morning. The lake near Taehyung’s winter villa had frozen and become a sheet of hard ice. The ice hadn’t properly frozen yet, there were still brittle patches of ice on the lake. You had made sure to lock the doors so your daughter wouldn’t wander out. You were in the process of baking some cookies for her when you heard Taehyung, your husband, shouting for you.

“Y/N!”

The sound came from the bedroom. Untying your apron and wiping your hands, you walked automatically in the direction of his voice. Ignoring him would only result in punishments, and you weren’t in the mood for them. These days, he had also started spanking your daughter if you didn’t toe the line.

The familiar tightening of your chest made your breath catch as you entered the bedroom. You stood there in complete shock, eyes wide and jaw hanging. The whole closet had been rummaged; all the clothes were strewn on the floor. Your eyes wandered along the strewn things on the floor until they stopped on finding what they had been scared to find. Your heart started beating fast, you were sure you were going to be sick.

Lying on the floor was an old shoebox, the contents of it scattered around. You had used it to keep little odds and ends, but the main object that you had hidden in it was missing.

“Searching for something?”

Taehyung held his hand out, rattling the pills in the little pillbox. His eyes were fiery, he looked like he was about to snap. Taehyung had two distinct tempers. One was the hot rage that would make him scream, hit you, overturn tables and break everything around him. The other was a cold mean streak, the one that made him plot so vehemently for the downfall of the entire Min clan. You were fearful and frightened, at a loss to know which side of him was going to pounce on you.

He stepped towards you slowly, eyes glinting murderously.

“Three years. Three years I’ve tried and you’ve just been taking these behind my back?”

He threw the pillbox down, sending it ricocheting off the floor.

“You think I’m a fool, Y/N?” His voice was rising to a dangerously high pitch. “You had the nerve to do this? After I let you keep that - that bastard’s child?”

One thing Taehyung had accomplished in three years was making your mouth never dare to answer him back. You stood motionless, unable to get a word out. You had been so sure that he wouldn’t find those birth control pills. You had hidden them successfully for so long. How could this happen?

“You answer me right now, bitch!”

His large fingers closed around your throat, threatening to choke you.

“I- I won’t carry your child.” The hold around your throat grew tighter.

“Oh, you won’t?” He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.

“I’d rather die than have your child.”

His hands left your neck abruptly as if he had touched something disgusting. There was a mean glint in his eyes as he stepped back and stared at you without breaking eye contact.

“We’ll see about that.”

He stormed out of the room. leaving you standing amid all the mess on the floor.

*****

You were back in the kitchen, fuming at Taehyung’s audacity in asking you to have his child. Who did he think you were? It was only because of your daughter that you suffered his existence around you. You had thought of poisoning him numerous times. But the clever bastard had made sure that you would have not a penny to your name if he died before you. You couldn’t be on the streets, not with Min Yoongi’s daughter. No. A good chunk of Taehyung’s money was what he conned and acquired from the Min family. It was your money, and your daughter’s. You just had to put up with him until you found a way out of all the mess.

You were whisking eggs, muttering to yourself furiously, thinking about what would happen later with Taehyung. He would surely give you hell. It made you tremble with anger. Just then, you thought you heard something. You looked out of the window, hearing the far-off voices of Taehyung and your daughter carrying through the wind. You couldn’t see from the kitchen window, and you hurried to the porch to see.

There, walking on the frozen lake with your little daughter by his side, was Taehyung. He was laughing and smiling down at her, letting her swirl around as she held his fingers. He was leading her to the middle of the lake. The part which hadn’t frozen over completely. The part which had a thin sheet of brittle ice.

“No!” You raced out of the house, not minding the cold air biting your bare arms. “Min Ha Neul! No, no! Come back!”

Ha Neul giggled on seeing you. She probably thought you were running to play with her too. She felt Taehyung tugging at her sleeve gently, and she followed him closer to the thin expanse of ice.

You pelted down the snow at full speed, shouting at your daughter to get away from the ice. Before you could reach her, it happened. Ha Neul was standing on the ice one moment, and gone the next. The ice cracked around her feet, plunging her into the horribly cold water.

“No! Baby!” You tripped on the slippery ice and fell, your leg suffering a nasty twist in the process. You couldn’t move, and you lay on the ice, pain shooting up your ankle. Your shouts were hysterical.

“Taehyung! Please! I’ll do anything! Please!”

The man had crossed his arms, standing away from the deep icy crater. When he heard your scream, his mouth twisted in a sweet smile.

“Are you sure?”

“God, just please get her out! I’ll do anything, I promise.”

There was a splash, and Taehyung disappeared too. You dragged your leg and crawled towards the hole he had jumped through. Within seconds, he returned, carrying an unconscious Ha Neul in his arms. He looked at you and flashed you a sickly-sweet smile. He had gotten his way.

*****

“Ready?”

Taehyung was lying on his side, hand supporting his head as he looked at you from the bed. His face betrayed no sign of depravity. He looked angelic, bangs brushing his brows as he eyed you eagerly. He was wearing his boxy smile, so bright and joyful that no one could ever guess what a monster he really was.

You were standing a little farther from him, near the little wastebasket in your bedroom. You had been completely defeated. There was no point in rebelling against him. You nodded wearily.

“Do it then.”

Your eyes welled up as you opened the pillbox in your hands, emptying all the pills into the wastebasket. You idly watched all the pills fall in slow motion, it felt like they were taking away your dignity with them. Finally, you tossed the box in, turning to Taehyung and holding up your empty hands.

His smile grew even wider. He stretched his hand out, extending it to you.

“Come here, baby”

You walked into his arms, and he pulled you onto him in a tight embrace. With a deep satisfied sniff, he inhaled the smell of your hair. His palms rubbed soft circles on your back.

“We’re going to have such beautiful babies, darling.”

2K notes · View notes

caffernnn · 3 years

Text

Haru’s hopelessness - an extensive rambling.

Watchers of Free! Eternal Summer - y’all remember this moment, right?

Throughout S2, as some of the boys now have to seriously think about their lives and paths after high school, Haru struggles to think past what he’s always known: swimming for his friends/himself, eating mackerel, and being free. Things arguably take a darker turn once Haru cannot run from the question anymore and breaks, lashing out at Rin and saying he doesn’t have a dream or a future.

There are so many things that can be unpacked from this quote alone, and my thoughts on the matter will probably be sporadic, but here are a few key things I’d like to try diving into in this post:

My interpretation of Haru’s, Makoto’s, and Rin’s characters’ mindsets

What Haru is likely trying to say

How Makoto and Rin interpret his words (based on their mindsets and experiences)

I’d love to hear other people’s thoughts on it all as well, so please feel free to add on :)

DISCLAIMER: This post will reference material outside of S2 itself to explain my insight/interpretation of the characters (S1 episodes, High Speed novel), but I won’t be putting full links to all of those materials in this post. If you’d like a specific link to anything I’m referencing, let me know and I can try to dig one up.

When first hearing Haru say that he doesn’t have a dream or a future, it is shocking and concerning, especially to his friends. However, as broken as lost as Haru is in this moment, the weight of his words and what he’s verbally trying to convey is most likely different than what his friends hear. I feel as if a big reason for this comes down to the different ways the characters perceive time and approach general goal-setting.

Here is a video that can give a frame of reference for what I mean by “time perception,” but I’ll still try to explain my thinking ---> https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJsdVUhu/

Rin and Haru butt heads on many occasions throughout the series due to having opposing characteristics and approaches to life. The big difference that comes into play during S2 is how they both approach goal-setting and time. As soon as we’re introduced to Rin, it becomes apparent that he is someone who is a visionary that has always set his sights on the future. From boldly proclaiming his Olympic goals in elementary school to encouraging their team to put their relay trophy into a time capsule, Rin establishes himself early on as a dreamer that puts his all into his long-term goals. Being someone who thinks about things in this manner isn’t inherently good or bad, but it does lend a hand to many of the issues we see Rin go through in S1 (having tunnel vision on his goal that isolates him from his friends, being prone to catastrophize when confronted with road blocks along the way [like when he breaks down after losing to Haru in middle school], etc.). However, all of that dreaming puts him at an advantage now when preparing to move forward into post-high-school life. He has a frame of reference for most of his next steps (winning races, talking to scouts), and now he just has to make it a reality.

Haru, in essence, lives his life in the moment. If he wants to swim, he’ll try to swim; if he wants mackerel, he’ll try to make mackerel. He lets the people around him (usually Makoto) worry about the possible consequences for his actions (swimming too early in spring might get him sick, swimming in a fish tank might get him kicked out of XYZ place, cooking mackerel after a long bath might make him late for school, etc.). The way he thinks about all of his “tomorrows” beyond acting freely on impulse is through having a consistent routine or norm to cling onto. When swimming, he’ll swim freestyle. When given a choice, he’ll default to eating mackerel. He’ll find a way to get in a swim or a bath most days because water is safe. He’ll walk with Makoto to and from school, sticking to the side of the path closest to the ocean and anticipating sharing the same split popsicle. This is about as much thought as he lends to the future, usually: he’ll keep doing the things that make him happy and comfortable, whatever that’ll mean to him in the moment. In opposition of Rin, this frame of mind based in immediacy and short-term goals helps him in S1 (teaching Rin to appreciate the moment, connecting with his friends, not getting lost in the overly analytical or competitive side of swimming), but it makes the challenges that come with his looming graduation in S2 much harder to cope with.

The reason that it’s important to understand how both Haru and Rin frame their perceptions of time is because it plays right into what Haru is saying during their argument. He is frustrated with Rin because Rin doesn’t understand the way Haru thinks/lives moment-to-moment (he yells as much in this fight) and he is tired of hearing people for years try and push him into long-term thinking about his future when he doesn’t naturally approach life that way. Think back to one of the first things Haru said in S1:

“When you're ten, they call you a prodigy. When you're fifteen, they call you a genius. Once you hit twenty, you're just an ordinary person. About three years until I'm ordinary. Man... I can't wait to be ordinary.”

Because of Haru’s swimming abilities, people have looked at him as a prodigy and have had their own visions about his potential or his future ever since he was young. Even if it seems like flattery, Haru feels boxed in by all of this. Being considered a prodigy comes with expectations that put him on a pedestal he never asked to be placed on -- if he’s going to swim, he’s expected to swim well; if he swims well, he’s expected to capitalize on his abilities in a competitive manner or expand his horizons to other forms of swimming; if he’s going to live his life tied to the water, people view him as a swimmer before they view him as anything/anyone else. Haru has been frustrated with all of this since he was younger (as expressed in S1), but it gets even worse as people close in on Haru from all sides with advice and sentiments that compound in Haru’s head as belonging to the echo chamber he hates so much.

So... what does this all mean in relevance to Haru saying he doesn’t have a dream or a future? Here’s my line of thinking: all of the internalized frustration Haru has with long-term thinkers (from his perspective) speaking over him and not taking time to understand his in-the-moment intuition-led mindset comes out in this line. What Haru is trying to say is that he doesn’t have a detailed long-term plan because he isn’t a romantic visionary like Rin. He wants to stick with his relatively free lifestyle (y’know, the one where he can do what he wants, but still ultimately sticks to a routine) because he sees no point in forcing himself to put effort into big changes if 1) he’s satisfied and 2) the system isn’t broken.*

*we learn later, especially through Haru and Makoto’s later fight, that these two points are up for debate, but this is what Haru has convinced himself to believe at the time of this specific confrontation.

However, with the way Haru vocalizes this frustration, it is vague enough that Rin and the others hear something much different. It’s written right on their faces. Like I mentioned earlier, being a long-term thinker prone to catastrophizing, Rin interprets (and possibly misconstrues) Haru’s words to mean that he doesn’t think he has the potential or abilities to strive for something. Rin feels Haru’s words like a punch to the gut because he relates Haru’s hopelessness to the times he has felt lost and hopeless, like when defeat after defeat led to him breaking down after his middle school race with Haru. It’s shocking and it stings for Rin to hear, because as much as he’s learned to believe in himself and his own future, he’s also held onto those dreams and hope for his friends. I’ll admit, his dedication and borderline obsession with swimming lends to him mostly vocalizing the dreams he has for his friends that are related to swimming (Makoto and Haru getting scouted, Sousuke returning to swimming), but the love is still there.

The idea of long-term vs short-term thinkers I’ve presented isn’t completely dichotomous or black-and-white, even though Haru and Rin tend to fall on the far opposite sides of the proposed spectrum. So, where does someone like Makoto fall?

Makoto is an interesting case. From how I’ve come to understand his character, I would say he also looks to the future, albeit in less idealistic or extreme ways than Rin. Makoto’s forward line of thinking presents itself through both his people-pleasing tendencies and his caring disposition. When Makoto interacts with people, he is often observant and calculating, trying to figure out how he can navigate a conversation in the most complimentary or polite manner. This ability and tendency to understand/empathize with others ties into a lot of the roles he takes on: team captain, big brother, part-time position as a swim coach, full-time position as Haru’s impulse control... he is inclined to think about the future and all of the possible consequences for his actions. This also ties into some of the other things we know Makoto’s character for, such as being a scaredy-cat (aka, someone who overthinks consequences in fear of the unknown) and a ray of sunshine (aka, someone who wants to see the best in people and holds onto optimism/hope for the people he loves, even if it sometimes means not saving enough for himself and his own abilities).

Despite being more of a forward-thinker, Makoto has definitely been influenced by his close relationship with Haru. Makoto has spent most of his life observing and learning how to read Haru, and it has been shown time and time again that Makoto is one of the people (if not, the person) that understands Haru best. He understands that Haru values the freedom of choice and harbors a desire for unconditional appreciation. He understands that Haru puts stock in consistency/reliability and needs time and space to process or reflect when life deviates from that carefully-crafted norm. Makoto’s actions towards Haru over the years all reflect him trying to be respectful of these observations. Even when he can tell something is bothering Haru, Makoto tries to let Haru work it out on his own first, not prodding him for information but letting his presence/support be known all the same. I digress, being best friends, their lives and routines are tightly woven together. Because of this, Makoto spends a lot of time also living in-the-moment with Haru -- he is a large proponent in Haru’s “free” lifestyle.

Since Makoto has a foot in both Haru and Rin’s respective worlds, how does he interpret Haru’s declaration that he doesn’t have a dream or a future? Surely, since he understands Haru and his position so well and has always been respectful of his mindset/wishes, he gets what Haru is trying to say... right?

Unfortunately for Haru (or fortunately, depending on who you ask), Makoto is immediately concerned by those words in a way similar to Rin. Like I mentioned earlier, Makoto holds deep optimism and hope in his chest for all of the people he cares about. Even though he never forced lofty expectations onto Haru to swim or be anything other than himself, he still holds so much care and hope for his best friend. For Makoto to hear that Haru might not have that faith in himself or the belief that he is worth a bright future, it breaks his heart. Similar to Rin, he is probably thinking back to his own moments of hopelessness, and I can’t help but think back to the lost and scared Makoto fighting with himself during the middle school days. When entering middle school, Makoto struggles with his identity, trying to figure out just how dependent he is on Haru’s friendship. One of his darkest moments in my mind comes from Chapter 8 of the High Speed! 2 novel, when Makoto is beating himself up especially hard after being frozen by his fear of the ocean yet again. Haru finds Makoto alone on a secluded part of the shore, where he says this:

“Will I be alright even if Haru isn’t here? …..I wanted to make sure of that.”

Raising his eyebrows, he shows a lonely smile. Makoto was fighting all along. He was suffering, all along. In a place where Haruka’s thoughts couldn’t possibly reach...

“Would Haru be alright even if I weren’t here?”

If Makoto’s internal struggles throughout their middle school days reveal anything, it is that Makoto has experienced a hopelessness that he wouldn’t ever wish on his friends. To think that Haru might now be at war with himself in a way that makes him question his own place in the world, his future... it is the ultimate catalyst for Makoto to step in and try to talk to Haru. Sadly, we all remember how that confrontation went...

ENTER: THE FIREWORKS FIGHT (S2E11)

(Since this post is already super long, I might go more into my thoughts on how this all plays into the misunderstandings about the fireworks fight in a separate post. We’ve talked about the fight at length on multiple occasions and you can definitely find my thoughts on the matter if you look under the “#fireworks angst night” or “#meta” tags on my profile.)

If you’ve made it this far into the post, thanks for sticking with me. I’d love to hear about how you interpreted Haru’s words or how you think the others took in his breakdown.

#long post #long long post #these poor complex boys with complex emotions #i just... care about them a whole bunch #meta #free! eternal summer #free! anime #ship neutral I think??#makoto tachibana #haruka nanase #rin matsuoka #fireworks angst night #(kinda but not really)#catherine wrote a thing!

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eunoiaflow3r · 4 years

Text

Slow Dance

A/N: based on the song Slow Dance by AJ Mitchell and Ava Max.

Warnings: fluff haha, there will be mistakes. fem!reader.

Requests:

Hi! Could I request Spencer Reid fluff? Spencer and the reader have hidden feelings for each other and his team manages to get him to tell the reader? Thank you :) @hahaboop

I have a request for Spencer Reid! One where the reader is the youngest member of the BAU (maybe she could be like 22, just graduated from college) and everyone is really protective of her. So, Spencer has a crush on her but doesn’t know how to tell her because all the members in the BAU are too overprotective and the rest of the building flirts with her or something like this. @always394patronus

Word Count: 2.3k

~~~~

If you stay for this minute, girl I'll never let you down...

The team had just gotten back to the BAU after a long case a few states away, and everyone except you and Spencer was out of the door. You were stressing out because yet again you were being paired with either Morgan or Hotch on every single case you’ve been given the past few months. At first you had hardly noticed, but with every passing case and every, “young one,” comment, you have grown more and more furious.

Spencer understood completely. Having been a twelve year old highschool graduate, he’s gotten his fair share of the “being young,” comments and teases. He could only imagine it was probably considerably worse for you since you were a woman, and women are commonly misconstrued, as the, “weaker gender.”

You were everything but weak though. Over the past few months, after you had joined the team, he and pretty much everyone noticed that you are incredibly smart, head-strong, honest, and ambitious. Perhaps this is why the team felt the need to protect you.

Sure, there have been plenty of new members, and new people and faces and scents, but you were different. In this case, different wasn’t terrible, it was just - unexpected. You were the youngest there, and with you being another woman added to the team, everyone kind of looked at you a little differently. It wasn’t that they doubted your profiling skills, oh no, you were, “damn good,” at your job as Morgan likes to say, and it wasn’t the fact that they thought you couldn’t handle yourself because of your age, but they were trying to make it so that the cases wouldn’t get to you.

Because of your age, they felt that after a while maybe the cases would get to be too much for you, and they wanted to prevent you from a world of confusion and hurt.

That is what hurt you the most though. Why couldn’t you just be treated like everyone else here?

And Spencer listened to anything and everything you had to say. He had become the closest thing to a best friend you could have, but sometimes it just didn’t feel like you were meant to be just friends.

Sometimes he’d catch himself staring at you a bit too long, or wanting to come up with anything he could to talk to you, or maybe even go as far as staring at your lips when you were talking, but he digressed, and tried to suppress anything he might have felt for you.

And you did as well.

All the time you had caught yourself wanting to just pull him into a hug that lasted forever, or hold his hand, and maybe even kiss him, but he was your coworker. Not only that, but on top of all the field limitations, those same limits seemed to be in office as well.

We ain't off the limit, I could hold you after now. No more talking, I don't know what you wanna do with that?

A few bold interns from a couple of floors down had tried to ask you out on a date, and maybe even a few more, but as soon as they had or even had the thought to, Morgan, Hotch, and sometimes even Garcia would give you a disapproving look, glare the guy down, or maybe even go as far as shut the guy down verbally for you.

Afterwards you’d always apologize to the guy, and you always felt bad for having to do it. Well, not really. Of course it made you upset that they never seemed to want you to live your life and actually find love, but the only one you wanted to go on dates with anyway was Spencer.

You knew your jobs, and the fact that you worked together could be a problem, but you couldn’t help but wonder if you could actually be something. Or maybe you misinterpreted the looks he gave you, and he actually doesn’t like you that way at all.

That night, Spencer had gotten home and went straight to sleep. Usually he’d dream of his mom, the cases, or maybe even some of the plain rides, but tonight's dreams seemed to have been filled with you. You were on his couch, in one of his cardigans, reading a book, eating some kind of fruit. He came in, sat next to you and handed you a cup of coffee after placing a quick kiss to your lips.

In the dream after that he had woken up, and you were snuggled in beside him. He had his arm wrapped around him, and your legs were tangled with his. The sun had barely risen, and the comforter was twisted in a weird way between the two of you, but when he actually woke up the next morning, he couldn’t help but noticed it felt so normal, and he wished it had been real.

He ran his fingers through his tangled curls, and scolded himself for those dreams. How was he going to look at you the same in a couple of hours when he almost-knew what it felt like to kiss you, and he almost-knew what it felt like to be so close to you?

“What’s wrong, kiddo?” You cringed at the nickname Rossi used towards you, but you answered him anyway.

“Nothing, just tired.”

He shook his head and laughed to himself. You gave him a ‘what?’ look.

“You’re not tired Y/N. You’re distressed.” He nods towards where Reid is sitting. “You haven’t stopped staring at him, care to talk about it?”

“Not really.” You sighed, spinning your chair around so now you were no longer even facing Reid - that way you wouldn’t be caught staring again.

“I say go for it.” You give him that ‘what?’ look again waiting for him to elaborate. “It’s obvious you two like eachother. Take it from me, don’t wait before it’s too late.”

“But the team -” You argue.

“At the end of the day, the team doesn’t matter. Just you and Spencer.”

And with that, Rossi walked away leaving you to think about what he said, and if it was even really possible for you two to be something more than friends.

It feels good, why you even wanna hold it back? We just work and I know there's no coming back.

“Awe, would you look at them!” Garcia gushed, watching you laugh at something Spencer said across the bullpen.

“Look at who?” Morgan asked clearly oblivious to the two of you.

“Spencer and Y/N.” Garcia answered pointing slightly in your direction so that Morgan could see too.

Morgan looked over and saw that you were sitting on your desk, and Spencer was standing in front of you with a cup of coffee in his hands. You were giggling like crazy, and Spencer smiled too although he wasn’t quite sure what the joke was.

“Y/N! Tell me what’s so funny! All I said was cassava!”

This only caused you to laugh even harder. There was this trick in elementary where you would ask someone a series of easy math questions very quickly, and then on the last question you’d ask them to name a vegetable. The trick was that usually the participant would say the basic vegetable, “carrots,” but no, Spencer Reid answered, “cassava.”

Once you stopped laughing, you explained it to him, and he didn’t find it as funny as you did, but nevertheless he started laughing too because your laugh seemed to be infectious. _

“I didn’t know which you liked better, so I brought both.” Spencer said, smiling behind bags of chinese food and two boxes of pizza.

“Oh my God Spencer!” you gushed, grabbing some of the bags and one of the boxes.

He closes the door behind him and puts all the food on the table.

“What are you even doing here?” You ask giving him a quick hug.

“Well, I know you’ve been a little down lately, and I just thought I’d help in any way that I could.”

You almost cried. He was so sweet to you, and you had no idea how to react. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and show him how much you appreciate him with a passionate kiss, but you knew that you probably shouldn’t.

Spencer invited you over for a movie marathon, and you’d be there any minute. He had made sure his apartment was flawless, and everything was perfect. Sure, you’ve been to his place before, but lately, things have begun to feel...different.

There was this one time at work where you two had gotten so close that he had just almost kissed you, but he had chickened out, and he had regretted that decision ever since.

When you got there, you both ended up staying up until three in the morning watching your favorite movies.

“Do you wanna go catch some lunch?” Terry from downstairs asks you.

“She likes someone else, sorry my man.” Morgan answers for you resting his arm across your shoulders.

Once the guy was gone, you turned to him with a frown.

“Someone as in who?” You ask.

“Uh uh,” he steps away. “Don’t play dumb with me Miss Lady. You know exactly who I’m talking about.” You rolled your eyes and walked over to the elevator.

Once you had entered the bullpen, you noticed Penelope and Spencer in a corner - except she looked to be giving him a pep-talk of some kind. _

“Spencer I’m telling you, you NEED to make a move.” Penelope practically whines. “I am tired of seeing you two pine after one another.”

Spencer shakes his head and sighs. “We don’t know if she even - and the team. The team practically throws the guys who even look at her out of the window.”

“You’re different, you know it’s different with you.”

Spencer wasn’t so sure. He’d hate it if he were to kindle something with you, and the team was unsupportive. _

A couple of days later, Spencer had walked by your desk and noticed a bouqet of roses in your wastebasket.

“Who were those from?” He asks half curiously, half jealousy (although he’s not willing to admit that.)

“Some guy named uh- Dylan, but I uhh, I’m interested in someone else.” You looked everywhere but Spencer’s eyes, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, you do?” he asks wearily, not quite sure where you were going with this. “Do I know him?”

“Oh yeah.” You smile. “You guys are practically like this.” You twisted your middle and pointer finger together to show the closeness.

He smiled down at you catching on. “Don’t tell me it’s Morgan, Y/N.”

“Nah. This guy likes to read. I don’t think Derek’s ever picked up a book in the last five years.”

It was late one night and you and Spencer were the only ones left in the office. You walked over to his desk where he was reading the newspaper, but when he noticed you his head immediately picked up. “Remember when I told you that you know the guy that I’m interested in?”

“Mhmm yeah, I think I remember.”

“He’s you. The guy is you.”

“Could have fooled -”

And you leaned in capturing his lips in yours. He tasted of coffee and bubblegum, which isn’t as bad as it might seem. He kissed you back and you forgot everything for a moment - forgot you were at the bullpen, forgot he was your coworker, and forgot the team's reaction actually might have meant something to you.

They meant nothing now when he’s pulling you down to straddle his lap and deepening the kiss. When you felt his tongue along your lips you opened your mouth a little wider so that he could kiss you just a little bit harder.

You both pulled away at the same time but stayed close, as he was running his hands along your sides.

“Me. You could have fooled me.” he finishes. You laughed and pressed a quick kiss to his lips which he returned before climbing out of his lap and steadying yourself on the ground.

You were going to walk away, until he grabbed your hand and pulled you back.

“Hey,” he practically whispered. “Go to dinner with me tomorrow night.”

I wanna slow dance if you’re feeling me now If we don't hold hands you'll be killing me now

Spencer had arrived at your apartment with a bouquet of wildflowers.

He had knocked, and when you opened the door, he was absolutely shocked.

“Wow, you look stunning.” He lets out.

“As do you.”

You grab the flowers from him and place it in a vase before grabbing your jacket, his hand, and heading out of the door.

The night went smoothly, and the dinner was great, and it couldn’t have been more perfect.

“Spence?” You asked, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles. You were holding the hand he wasn’t using to drive.

“Hm?”

“Have you ever seen The Notebook?”

“Actually...no.”

“Okay.”

“Why?” he asks looking over at you. You couldn’t have been more beautiful in his eyes.

“You’ll see.”

When he pulled out in front of your apartment, and you were out of his car, you took his hand and led him to the middle of the street - the only source of light being the street lamp hovering above the two of you.

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

“Slow dance with me.”

“I can’t dance.”

“That’s alright.” You stepped close to him and guided his hands so that they were resting on your backside, and you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck. From there, you led him to step with you to a nonexistent rhythm.

You two weren’t really worried about any cars, this wasn’t a busy street.

“Tell me about The Notebook.” he says, pulling your body closer to his.

“Well Noah actually laid down in the street, not danced and -”

I need a romance, one chance I just wanna know, will you slow dance?

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid headcanoon #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines

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lillupon · 3 years

Note

I've always seen Wonwoo as a dense person when it comes to interest. So I imagine a scene with bigger impact for him to realize that Mingyu is indeed attracted to him - his very own student desires him. Like Mingyu being hit by his rut during school hours, on livid riot whenever someone comes close to the omega. Eventually, teachers came to haul his ass out (with great struggle), only to walk away calmly at Wonwoo's behest. And before whisks the alpha away, he sneaks a peck over Wonwoo's lips.

** This Ask was sent in prior to chapter 8 **

Oh! I love the idea of Mingyu being the one to go into rut. It honestly never occured to me. That would be a delicious alternative because I imagine that omegas are affected by rut pheromones the same way alphas are affected by heat pheromones. Wonwoo probably doesn't realise that Mingyu's rut pheromones are interfering with his scent blockers until it's too late.

As usual, this is way too long because I'm procrastinating on my main works, haha.

Maybe Wonwoo picks up on the difference in Mingyu during first block. Most of the time teenagers are sleepy during their morning classes. But Mingyu is especially friendly and needy that day. Always putting up his hand to ask for help, calling out "Mr. Jeon!" from across the classroom while Wonwoo is occupied with another student.

Wonwoo finds it endearing. He kneels beside Mingyu's desk and says, "Alright, Mingyu. What can I help you with?"

Mingyu turns the worksheet towards Wonwoo and taps a problem. "I'm not sure how to do this one."

So Wonwoo explains that Mingyu used the wrong equation to calculate the total resistance. "Whenever we add resistors in parallel, the total resistance actually has to decrease. This can be a little strange, because the total resistance can decrease even when the second pathway has a higher resistance than the first..." He trails off when he realises that Mingyu's gaze is fixed on him, rather than the worksheet. Wonwoo swallows and adjusts his glasses with a middle finger. "Mingyu?" he asks, peeking up from overtop his glasses.

Mingyu's got his elbow on his desk, cheek resting on a fist. "Hmm?" he hums, giving Wonwoo a lush-lipped smile.

"Are you paying attention?"

"Yeah. I always pay attention to you, Mr. Jeon," Mingyu says. Bold, as if those words could not be misconstrued by the twenty-nine other students in the class.

I meant the question, Wonwoo doesn't know how to clarify. But surely that's what Mingyu had meant? Paying attention to the problem, paying attention to the teacher--aren't those the same thing? So he clears his throat and resumes his explanation.

At the end of class, Wonwoo stands near the doorway and waves to his students as they file out of the room. Mingyu is the last one to leave, trailing a few feet behind Junhui and Seungcheol.

"Thanks for your help today, Mr. Jeon. This stuff makes a lot more sense to me now," Mingyu says. As he thanks Wonwoo, he reaches out to brush his fingers against Wonwoo's arm.

Even through the cotton of his dress shirt, the touch leaves sparks of electricity jumping across Wonwoo's skin. Barring that day in the classroom when Wonwoo had entered pre-heat, Mingyu has never touched him. Wonwoo wonders what has gotten into Mingyu, and what has changed that Mingyu is now breaking down the touch-barrier that stands between them.

Wonwoo gets his answer at lunch. He, Jeonghan, and Joshua make their way down to the staffroom for a luncheon. They are sidetracked by a crowd of students in the hallway.

Joshua pauses. He tips his nose to the air and sniffs. Makes a face. "Oh, Jesus. We got an alpha about to go into rut." He strides down the hall, Jeonghan at his heels. Wonwoo, curiosity piqued, tags along behind them.

"Excuse me, coming through," Joshua says, wedging his way between the students. He has cleared a path through the students, allowing Wonwoo to follow behind him.

The alpha in question is Mingyu, and he looks pissed off. He's looming over another student, lats flared in alpha posturing. His face looks as though it has been carved from marble: jaw clenched tight and brows drawn into a furious vee.

"Alright, Mingyu," Joshua says. "We better get you home."

"What? I didn't even do anything," Mingyu says. He tilts his head in the other student's direction. "If anything, you should be sending him home."

"I believe you," Joshua says. He hovers a hand over Mingyu's elbow, trying to guide away--not touching, but it's still the wrong move.

Mingyu smacks Joshua's hand aside. "Don't touch me," he snarls.

Joshua does a remarkable job of staying calm, though Wonwoo knows it must be difficult for an alpha to deal with another alpha in rut without the whole situation deteriorating into aggression. Jeonghan has gotten the students to leave the area, although a few wait in watch at the end of the hall.

"I'm not telling you to go home because of whatever conflict you were having," Joshua says. "I'm telling you to go home because you're about to enter rut."

"I'm not leaving. I have an important hockey game after lunch," Mingyu says.

"Your team will just have to make-do without you," Joshua responds.

"I'll get him checked out at the office and escort him out," Jeonghan says. He's a beta, so he has a better chance of getting Mingyu out of the school without butting heads.

Mingyu is growling now, hackles raised. "I said: I'm not leaving."

There's a funny feeling twisting up Wonwoo's stomach. He hates that it does something to him: the knowledge that Mingyu is on the brink of rut. And while Wonwoo doesn't want to be caught on the wrong side of Mingyu's anger, neither can he deny that Mingyu looks hot when he's pissed off. Wonwoo can feel his cheeks warm as he admits this to himself.

Mingyu sidesteps Joshua, only to be blocked by an arm coming down in front of his body. Mingyu narrows his eyes at the arm. Turns to fix Joshua with a cold and flinty stare, his expression going tight with anger. "Move."

Joshua is starting to grow agitated, too. Wonwoo can tell from the way his nostrils flare and the way his lips are pressed together in a white slash. That's when Wonwoo steps out from behind Joshua and Jeonghan, putting himself between Mingyu and the two teachers.

"Please try to understand, Mingyu," Wonwoo says. He holds up open palms in a placating gesture. Tentatively, he reaches out to rest his fingertips on Mingyu's arm. The muscles there tense, and then relax. "It's for your own safety, and the safety of others."

Mingyu exhales sharply out of his nose.

Wonwoo offers Mingyu a small smile. Then, he says to Jeonghan and Joshua over his shoulder, "I can sign him out. I'll make sure he leaves the school grounds."

"Want me to come with you?" Jeonghan asks.

Wonwoo shakes his head. "It's okay. Can you save me a plate of food?"

"Yes, of course," Jeonghan says. "We'll save a seat for you, too. Come join us when you're done." He and Joshua leave.

Wonwoo gives Mingyu's elbow a squeeze, and then lets his hand drop. "Okay, let's go."

They make the trek to the office. Mingyu walks at Wonwoo's side, a silent guard. He's close enough that at one point, their knuckles brush. Wonwoo pulls away, clasps his hands together in front of his body and wrings them. Had that been him? Or was it Mingyu who had closed that small distance between them?

Wonwoo calls Mingyu's home. No one answers. "My parents are working," Mingyu says. "I'll text my mom to let her know I'm going home. I'll tell Chaeyoung to catch a ride with Nayeon."

Wonwoo walks Mingyu out to the student parking lot, which is located at the back of the school. At this time of day, the sun is on the other side of the building, throwing the lot into shadow. The parking lot is devoid of people and filled with luxury cars.

The two of them stop by the dumpsters. Mingyu stands mere inches from him. It feels strangely intimate, being out here alone with Mingyu. Wonwoo curls his shoulders in slightly, fiddles with the hem of his sleeves. The fluttering sensation in his stomach grows. Why in the hells is he so nervous? And why must Mingyu stand so close? It makes it hard to think.

"My car is over there," Mingyu says, nodding in the general direction of his car.

"Will you be alright getting home by yourself?" Wonwoo asks.

Mingyu cracks a smile. "You worried about me, Mr. Jeon?" he asks. "That's cute."

Wonwoo ducks his head. And then it slips out of him unbidden, tugged forth by an alpha's praise: he lets out a tiny whine. He clamps his lips shut and puts an abrupt stop to it, flushing a violent shade of red. But Mingyu heard it, and he croons softly in response.

Before Wonwoo can stammer out an excuse to leave, Mingyu dips forward to kiss him. Wonwoo's eyes widen as their lips meet, slightly off alignment.

It takes a moment for Wonwoo to regain himself. When he does, he puts both hands on Mingyu's chest and shoves. He turns on his heel and flees, face burning, skin burning, every inch of him burning.

They talk about it when Mingyu returns two days later. It's after school and awkward (for Wonwoo, more than Mingyu) and reminiscent of the time Wonwoo apologised to Mingyu for going to heat in front of him.

Mingyu peers at him from beneath lowered lashes. "Mr. Jeon, maybe I imagined this... I don't think I did. But when I kissed you that day..." He pauses here for a strained moment. "Can I ask why you kissed me back?"

#asks #aev bonus

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calliecat93 · 3 years

Text

When I started TNG, the biggest curiosity I had was why Dr. Pulaski was so hated. I heard plenty about why, but at the same time I wanted to see for myself and be able to draw my own conclusions. Well now that I’ve finished S2, I think that I can safely state my opinion and the reasons why she had such a bad reception.

My general opinion is… Pulaski’s fine, but she got an bad start. She’s a very competent doctor who is devoted to her duty. She’s a bit of a smartass, but otherwise a friendly enough person. She’s a VERY much based off a certain CMO form a certain other Star Trek show that came out before this one, but we’ll get to that later. Pulaski honestly had a lot working against her and she just wasn’t able to get over them despite her actress Diana Muldaur (who played Miranda Jones in TOS) doing an excelent acting job. It ultimately ended with Pulaski being dropped all together and Crusher returning in Season 3.

While I understand the hate against Pulaski and can’t say that it’s unwarranted to an extent, I think that a lot of it that I saw was overblown. Now if people disliked the character, that’s fine. Everyone has different tastes and reasons for what they like and dislike and should be free to have and express those thoughts. But a lot of the issues with her that I had were taken care of very early on and she became much better by the end of her tenure. So why do I believe that Pulaski ultimately failed? Well I’ve come up with three explanations based off my own observations from watching the show and what I got from fandom consensus. Now this is all my opinion based on those observations and is not objective fact whatsoever, so take this with a grain of salt. So I believe the reasons that Pulaski failed are:

#1. She Is Essentially a Female Dr. McCoy… Sort Of: Pulaski was clearly heavily based on Dr. McCoy from TOS. She’s an middle-aged, somewhat world-weary doctor. She’s stubborn, grumpy, and doesn’t put up with anyone’s crap. She’s witty and always ready with a biting comment. She has the dedication to her job. She has the bantery relationship with the Science Officer, which we’ll go into that here soon. She is a doctor before she is an officer and that will always be her top priority, even at great risk to herself. She has a zero tolerance towards authority and isn’t afraid to talk back to anyone no matter how much they outrank her. She even outright has a hatred of teleporters that McCoy had. The parallels are all there. It may be why I’m a bit more lenient on her since McCoy is very much my favorite character in TOS and so far all of ST. But I think it is very much the root of the problem.

While Pulaski has several of McCoy’s traits, I think the writers really only understood McCoy on a surface level. They forget to include his compassion, his empathy, his humanism, his loyalty to the captain even when he opposes his actions, all of the things that make McCoy… well, McCoy. I don’t even know if the pacifism is there. Also McCoy had over 70 episodes of TOS and at that point five films (Undiscovered Country hadn’t been made yet). Pulaski had about 20 episodes and her relevance depended on the episode. McCoy had that as well, but he also had more material so we had FAR more time to get to know him. Pulaski didn’t get to have the time to gain that depth or care from the audience. Like… can I imagine Pulaski hypoing someone so that she can be tortured in their stead and it have the same impact that The Empath did? Can I see her counseling and assuring Picard if he’s having doubts like McCoy did for Kirk in The Ultimate Computer (okay tbf that would be Troi’s job but still)? Could I imagine any of the main cast being crushed about Pulaski dying of a terminal illness and choosing to stay on essentially a doomed spaceship with someone she just met and feel as gutted as I did in For the World is Hollow…? Honestly… given time maybe but in the end no. Now could I imagine McCoy risking getting an aging illness to possibly cure a child and others of it ala Unnatural Selection? Yes, albiet I think he’d be smart enough to bring protective equipment with him to be safe. Could I imagine McCoy telling someone like Data they’d be wrong to sit by a woman giving birth because he wasn’t human ala The Child? Hell no. Maybe he would if he was worried it would cause potential distress the one giving birth, but it sure as hell wouldn’t be because they’re an android. But I could imagine that someone who just saw McCoy as ‘grumpy doctor with a bad bedside manner who says witty lines and argues with the logical Vulcan character’ would get that interpretation. Thus why I think that Pulaski may have ended up how she did.

Now mind you I do think it IS a double standard to excuse McCoy’s dickish momemts and flaws, but demonize Pulaski for her’s. It’s like saying a man can be that way because it’s just expected of them and they can be forgiven, but a woman doing so or being assertice is wrong and they are horrible and unforgivable for having these traits or having flaws even if they correct them. That being said I do think that it’s more than that and it all comes down to the fact that TOS and TNG are two different shows with different character dynamics and ways of doing things. TOS mainly followed a Triumvirate (for the most part but that’s a different post entirely), TNG is much more of an ensemble. Pulaski didn’t have a Kirk nor a Spock to bounce off of or either let her traits shine or be kept in check like McCoy did nor did she really develop any unique relations for herself aside from maybe with Troi. We hear about her empathy and humanitarianism, but we don’t really see it on-screen like we did with McCoy. She has his surface level traits, not the deeper ones that the Triumvirate dynamic along his doctor position allowed him to showcase. In other words, Pulaski was put in a series that wasn’t designed for her while McCoy was exactly where he needed to be in order to thrive. It really speaks to how much the TNG writers didn’t really seem to get McCoy or why and how his character worked, which is strange since they got him right when he showed up in the series premiere. But maybe that was due to DeForest Kelley and him absolutely knowing the character he’d played for so long. But yeah they tried to replicate McCoy, and it just didn’t work with TNG’s already established character dynamics nor did they fully get the character that they were trying to recreate. If I want McCoy, I’ll go watch TOS or AOS. I didn’t need Pulaski for that.

#2. Data and Misconstrued Character Dynamics; This is in relation to the first reason and REALLY shows how much the writers didn’t think the dynamics through. We all know how much Spock and McCoy bantered. How they are opposite ends of the spectrum and how their perspective points helped Kirk in making his decisions. Well clealry they wanted to re-create that with Pulaski and Data. Makes sense, Pulaski represents the humanism and Data the logical. But there’s one big, BIG problem with that: Data is NOT Spock. A lot fo people have pointed this out, but here’s the thing about Spock. Despite whatever he may have said, Spock DID have emotions. He kept them suppressed due to the issues in his upbringing and that wasn’t necessarily healthy, but he did have them. And despite speaking in a calm manner, he was also an utter sass bucket, could be rude, and had no issue putting down humanity if he had a point to make. He and McCoy were very much equal in their bantering and yes maybe McCoy could go too far with his insults, but there was always an equal balance and Spock was also perfectly capable of starting/escalating their spats. There were also plenty of moments to show that in spite of it, they were still friends and cared a great deal about each other with probably the best examples of this being The Immunity Syndrome, Bread and Circuses, The Empath, and plenty of moments in others like Miri and For the World is Hollow… Those who have been following me know how much I love the Spock/McCoy dynamic and I could go all day, but the point is it’s a complex relationship that may seem like disdain on the outside, but is so much more when you examine it up close.

Data however? Data is intelligent and the Science Officer with a calm demeanor, but that’s about where the similarity between him and Spock ends. Data is an android. I do not believe that he is emotionless, he just has a different wiring that causes him to feel things differently. He’s never shown disdain towards humanity at least from what I’ve observed thus far. If anything, he actively seeks to understand it and emotions more. He actively has hobbies like Sherlock Holmes. He tries things like sneezing and growing a beard in an effort to understand more. Data is more or less a child with a child-like understanding of things and he doesn’t really understand social cues or things like humor, but he DOES have emotions and feelings. There’s too much on-screen evidence to say otherwise. He just has his own way of processing it. This is what makes Pulaski look so bad. When she calls Data a machine, says he can’t understand, and even purposefully mispronounces his name, she comes across as an outright bully. She is essentially bullying a neurodivergent child. Do I need to explain why that’s awful? Data, while by no means a doormat, isn’t the type to sass back or make any biting comments back like Spock would. There is no balance. There is no equal footing. There are not enough positive interactions outside the banter to show that there is something deeper there at the end of the day like Spock and McCoy did. Heck you can even compare how Pulaski and McCoy talk to Data via McCoy’s guest appearance in Encounter at Farpoint. He DOES make a quip about Vulcans when talking to Data and when Data points out he’s an android not a Vulcan, McCoy mumbles “Just as bad.” But immediately after he gives Data genuine heartfelt advice on treating the Enterprise with care. It’s clear that ultimately it’s McCoy being his usual grumpy self who’d be acting the same way towards anyone else and is otherwise perfectly civil and encouraging to Data. We’ve known him long enough to know this. Pulaski didn’t have that luxury, coming off as condescending towards Data at best and considering that she’s a doctor, it looks especially bad.

Now to be fair this only lasts for about four episodes. Pulaski does start catching herself by her second episode, and stops completely after Unnatural Selection when Data helps her and stays with her after she gets the aging virus. After that she’s MUCH moe civil to him, even defending his choice going against the Prime Directive in Pen Pals and was at his retirement party in The Measure of a Man. But clearly the damage had been done. Data is a very beloved character and by Oulaski’s intro had already been established and well-liked character. Data was treated equally and was valued as far more than just an android among the rest of the crew, Crusher included, so Pulaski coming in a season later and acting that way also didn’t help. The writers did not think through why Spock and McCoy worked and how to try figure out a unique dynamic for Pulaski and Data. Instead they just tried to copy TOS, and it utterly failed. It ruined Pulaski’s chances before she could even really start running. But I do believe that she could have rebounded and as I said, she DID get past it. She did relapse some at the end of the season in Peak Performance to the point I wanna say that maybe it chronologically happened earlier in the season, but even then she felt realized her screw up and apologized. It’s still an improvement from early on. But things just weren’t meant to be, which leads is to…

#3. She Only Lasted One Season/She Replaced Dr. Crusher: I believe that the biggest thing that worked against Pulaski is simple: she was cut after Season 2. Pulaski was created when Gates MacFadden left the show. I’ve seen conflicting reasons as to why, but regardless she left and a CMO was needed. IDK how popular Crusher was, but I had really enjoyed her. She was essentially the mom of the ship which added something different from TOS (wel McCoy was also the mom lets be real XD), had a son onboard which also added something new, was very much capable and devoted to her job, and was a badass when she got to use a phaser. Her being written out sucked, but that’s not necessarily a reason to hate Pulaski. But as I highlighted above, she just didn’t work. They tried to make McCoy, but without the dynamics and depth that let McCoy flourish. TNG is not TOS. Whenever TNG tried replicating TOS like with The Naked Now? It blew up in their faces. The key to a spinoff or reboot is to keep certain themes and tone alive, but to not just replicate what came before. TNG flourished when it began to find it’s own footing, and ultimately lasted four seasons longer than it’s predecessor due to it.

I genuinely believe that Pulaski COULD have developed into her own character and could have found her place the same way that McCoy did. But alas that didn’t happen. People wanted Crusher back, so they managed to get MacFadden to return and thus Crusher was put back in her rightful place. Because of it, Pulaski was just forgotten about. She didn’t get the chance to form her own character. She didn’t the chance to develop further and leave her early days behind. Why? Because she simply wasn’t given the opprotunity to do so. I can’t say it was the wrong choice, but it’s an utter shame because I do believe that Pulaski was on her way to improving. But it was too late. Her bad start with Data, her character not working in the TNG dynamic, and her replacing an already perfectly likeable character who did fit the dynamics all amounted to the character’s abrupt end. And because she didn’t get the chance to develop further and find her own path, her bad reputation has stuck to this very day.

In the end, the whole thing just feels like a waste. Pulaski had potential, but it just didn’t work in the end. I can’t say that I hate her. If anything, I feel bad for her. The writers failed her at the end of the day and by the time they tried correcting their errors, the audience had already made their judgement. It may have been for the best to just drop her and bring Crusher back, but I also hate seeing character potential just so utterly wasted. I hope that if any side material used Pulaski, they were able to find a much better direction for her. I can’t say that I love Pulaski. In a more TOS-like setting maybe she’d have worked better. But in the end I think that Pulaski was a decent character who just had too much working against her and they caused her to crash and burn. Just an unfortunate case all in all.

(Image Source)

#this is all mainly opinion so feel free to ig kre

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dystopiandilfs · 3 years

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I am never been so close to anti-stan then I am right now. Dreams Twitter fanbase started the biggest hate train on him because they themselves:

1. Took his inital tweet with the drugs comment as a race issue, like it was obvious that was not the intent or even the focus.

2. Got mad at his completely rational reply to a toxic Stan that used both white and adhd as an isult - the toxic Stan was saying his fanbase will dogpile them, well if you didn’t phrase your concerns in a toxic way in a public place maybe you wouldn’t be concerned about it. Like he empasised he had no intent to relate it to rap - and they see him say rap and fucking ran with it.

3. Got mad at him for disagreeing with someone generalizing his 23 million fans as anti-black, like even his stance on stans is entirely anti-generalizing, he literally denounced any that are in the same comment.

4. Bullied him into unprivating his account because they can’t share screenshots apparently.

5. Got mad a him for tweeting a fucking heart.

Then they turn around and blame the entire thing on the antis, like no. You blew it out of proportion and reacted like shit to everything he did. You are the problem. All the responses to his last tweet are “educate yourself and reflect” and “come back with a better apology” like no. He apologized when he shouldn’t have and you cyber bullied him. They are bloody proud of theirselves for “holding him accountable“ for something they misconstrued.

He needs to delete that stan video because they aren’t worth it.

First thing i want to say is that this post is going to be joint answered as evangeline is white so this is going to be answered by her and me as im half african half american. Normally evanageline would be voicing her opinions and adding ours in if we had any but as its a racism issue she didnt feel comfortable to voice only her opinions. However shes the one writing the post apart from this bit to keep up the consistentcy of the blog page. -Trinity (Basically Trin gave her thoughts using a voice note and I slightly edited it so the sentences were a bit more coherent and added both mine and the other admins opinions as Trin doesn't really use twitter unless it's through my priv account - Evangeline)

I will say that a lot of the fan drama that you see are a smaller group that is known to attack and harass Dream and anyone who disagrees with anything. Eventhough they are a small group they mass reply to everything and make themselves look bigger than they are. Not only that but the only thing they end up doing is overshadowing the original issue at hand which is fans harassing and being racist to eachother. So a lot of what I'm about to say is mainly what this group is doing and isn't at all a reflection of a lot of fans but it is something that needs to be talked about especially since a bunch of this groups members are either white or white passing but get mad on black people's behalf and is basically setting them up.

I don't mean to be rude or dismissive but a lot of people used this as an opportunity to trauma dump. Like I know going into horrible details about what you have to deal with is the only way to get the point across sometimes however harassing Dream and spamming him with stuff like "I was harassed because I'm gay" "I was doxxed because I was Asian" is lowkey weird. Like why are you telling this random guy on the internet that you were doxxed? What is he going to be able to do about it? Also not to defend Dream but how are you going to sit there and break one of his few boundaries whilst trying to educate him.

On top of that the issue was originally how racist some of the fandom are to black people but then other minority groups started talking about how they were also being stereotyped and attacked but all this is doing is talking over other minorities. For example a large group of fans started off talking about how they were being attacked by other stans because of their skin colour but then immediately started to harass and threaten others. Like some were clearly not being serious but dming people and update accounts to retweet and spread awareness isn't the move you think it is. Obviously a lot of them were genuinely trying to spread awareness and were trying to get the respect and treatment they deserve but all of that was being overshadowed by the few that were attacking and harassing creators and fans. Then a lot of it turned into minorites fighting each other over who was more oppressed which just makes the whole thing seem like petty drama.

I will say a lot of them were lovely. I am pretty uneducated on race based issues and how certain things effect people and can be racist so I was asking a lot of questions and most of them were nice. However I also got a lot of snarky ones like "google it" to questions that weren't general like "Is it mocking to call white people crackers and token white boy if you are a white person" or "is ______ considered micro aggressions"

However as usual it went from trying to educate your creators to who is the most oppressed and who can bring up more past drama that has already been addressed multiple times. I'm not being funny but the fact that some well known Dream antis were defending Dream and shitting on stans should really tell you how non productive this is. It went from "Hey Dream this comment is a bit weird can you delete it please" to "Dream you should stop being friends with this person and you should follow this person otherwise your racist" Like that's not helping anyone. The only thing that it's doing is breaking Dreams boundaries, setting Dream up and making stans look bad.

Like people were @ing Sapnap and George telling them to "collect the racist friend" like how is that spreading awareness. The whole thing went from being a good chance to educate to a big fucking joke that just made a lot of people upset and anxious.

Honestly the whole thing was pretty fucking hypocritical like you can't talk about being harassed whilst harassing people into hearing you out. A lot of the issues seemed really gatekeepy to me as well. One that I saw constantly get brought up was that the only people allowed to say dy*e were black lesbians as they created the word. Like a big topic was a misuse of aave but not a single person actual explained what it was or gave examples all I saw was "mcyttwt needs to stop using aave language it's offensive" like you can't claim to be educating people if you don't explain. Not everyone can access websites and caards that get linked because of regions or web rescrictions so they're not helpful either.

HOWEVER I will agree that a lot of their points were completely valid like the whole thing of "Feral Feb" over shadowing BHM and whenever Dream listens to rap people complain and call it bad music are two really good examples. I listened to a few twitter spaces to learn a bit more and things that were said in there was all good info that would be genuinely helpful to know and it really did help edcuate me however not a single tweet said any of it and that's why people don't understand what they're doing is wrong because nobody explains it.

A lot of the issues that people had with Dream were so weird as well like a lot of them were self oppression and turning normal things into racism. A lot of the issues had the same energy as the 404twt fans who were genuinely mad at Dream for having a colour that George couldn't see and they were harassing him and claiming that he was purposely excluding diasbilities.

Usually we would add more but Trinity got a bit upset and stressed so she had to stop answering various asks and the other admins are all white or white passing and don't feel like it's our place to put our own opinions. We will try to answer other asks with similar thoughts later - Evangeline

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justanothersyscourse · 3 years

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First off I wanna preface this by saying that I mean all of this in a genuine way, like I’m really not trying to be a smartass. I also wanna say that I myself am not a system. With that said, I’m really confused as to why endogenic systems aren’t ‘real’. From what I know as someone who has read the DSM-5, is studying psychology, and has asked a few professionals online, trauma isn’t part of the criteria for DID or OSDD. Unless I somehow don’t have the right edition of the book or something? Again, not trying to be rude or anything, just wanted to ask you about this since you seem open to questions.

Hello! I'm happy to answer as best as I can. If you need any further clarifications, please reach out again!

I'd first like to say there's three different ideas here regarding endogenic systems.

1. They don't exist at all. Either they're experiencing something similar that can FEEL like alters, like BPD, maybe schizophrenia, misunderstanding kinning, MADD, flat out faking, anything along those lines. There are several disorders that can genuinely feel like there are separate entities sharing your body, and the symptoms are being incorrectly attributed to being "multiple". As well, there's the idea that if they're really multiple, they're repressing trauma or think their trauma wasn't "bad enough". I fall into this category and think it's a mix of everything above.

2. That they exist, but the experience is so wildly different from DID/OSDD that sharing spaces and terms is flat out dangerous for both sides.

3. That everyone can be multiple and it's all valid, blah blah blah, essentially they're basically the same thing.

I'm open to 2, and I hate 3.

So with that said, there's just no research to support the idea that endogenic, or natural systems, exist. Ask for research and it's all personal anecdotes. There's significant research that says DID/OSDD happens before the sense of self is formed by the age of 12 (MAX, average of studies is around 8 or 9). If this is the case, the vast majority of endogenics are already removed from the list-- those claiming to have formed their systems after these cut off ages, and those claiming to be multiple without trauma.

Further, there are endogenics that believe they've been multiple since birth, regardless of trauma. The ToSD actually accounts for this experience, so... Guess what, if you're multiple since birth with trauma, you're not endogenic, you're DID/OSDD.

The question is then, what causes a disruption to the sense of self? Again, research has proven time and again that it's trauma and abuse. The DSM itself does discuss this, but because it's written in clinical terms, it tends to be taken out of context and misconstrued.

The main issue here is the confusion over whether DID/OSDD is a childhood trauma disorder, or whether it's a disorder of multiplicity (the idea that you're multiple first, and THEN disordered).

According to the DSM...

A note about this passage is that "associated with" means "clinically connected". Although you might not realize you have alters until a later age, the disorder itself starts in childhood.

As well, the symptoms of and issues that arise from DID/OSDD are not the alters, it's the PTSD and dissociation that come with it. There's two other mentions of childhood trauma in the DSM, I'm going to grab those images and pop them here in a minute. It's hard on the phone to reply to asks.

SO, long story short, there's no research to suggest they exist, and even if I humour that they might, there's a lot of things that explain their experiences as being DID/OSDD, and if it's not, it's SO FAR REMOVED from DID/OSDD that we're not even in the same ballpark.

Edit: another from the DSM...

A note about this passage. This is the entry for dissociative disorders in general, so when it says "frequently" here, it's accounting for the other dissociative disorders discussed.

Edit 2: here's a post on why trauma isn't listed specifically in the criteria

FINAL EDIT! the last spot in the DSM where childhood trauma is listed is when it says "90% is caused by abuse" (I can't get a screenshot right now). This is frequently taken to mean that the other 10% are those who are naturally multiple, but the DSM goes on to say that it's just various other types of trauma, not a "natural" explanation. Here's a post about it. And here's another.

#actuallydid #actuallyosdd #actuallytraumagenic #did #osdd #syscourse #anti endo #endogenic #pluralgang #actuallymultiple

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aboveallarescuer · 3 years

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Hi, just wanted to introduce myself as a GRRM pessimist. I wanted to defend myself in just one regard: I didn't really mean book!Dany fans with the comment this was obviously directed at. I often encounter discussions with ASOIAF fans who are completely convinced DarkDany will happen who block debates about the sexist implications of that with angry rants of praises of GRRM's writing of fem. chars. and long lists of minor female characters who will prob. survive the story well.

Or cite a "rule happily ever after" ending (which should be unsatisfying for the author if he'd stay true to his words) for fem. characters only marginally involved in somewhat political storylines, not at all in ruling arcs to deflect. These are the people I meant primarily with the notion of premature praise of "feminist credit", not book!Dany fans. IMHO they would still regard it a non-offensive, "feminist" story even with the exact show ending attached to the books. Why I tend to be pessimistic about GRRM has a lot of reasons, not that I don't appreciate your correct characterizations of her book arc and character so far. Love y'all, have a nice day.

Hi, Anon... I’m sorry that my comment in that reblog’s tags made you upset on some level... There was no need for you to explain yourself to me, I’m just a stranger who made a hobby of defending Dany during the quarantine every now and then.

I will say that I used a harsh tone because I’m still annoyed at the 198119th essay I came across trying to argue that Dany’s storyline in the books is actually about U.S. imperialism. It created brand new arguments (and I probably already read thousands of asoiaf metas at this point after years of being on the asoiaf fandom, so I was flabbergasted to see, once again, how creative people can be when it comes to Dany hate, lol) based on inaccuracies/lies that could have been easily corrected if the person had read the books more carefully. What’s worse is that that essay was written by a PhD student with a background in postcolonial studies in a book published by an American university. So a) this makes it seem that the person actually had something meaningful to say (which they didn’t) and b) it can’t be said that that person is ignorant like it’s often assumed that Dany haters are. No. Well-informed, well-educated and well-read people hate Dany based on inaccuracies (because they have spread way too much at this point) and create entire narratives that seem reasonable if you don’t remember what happened in the books very well. This is important to acknowledge, IMO, because it shows that the amount of vitriol leveled at Dany really is unprecedented, and it has influenced how she’s analyzed in the academic world. This whole situation really, really pisses me off.

So I was ranting because it felt to me that book!Dany fans (who are actually very few, because most Dany fans here talk more about show!Dany) were not even having their points heard in their small Tumblr bubble. I have come across quite a few people that misconstrue what we have to say, after all. Also, while your comment was indeed the one that prompted me to rant, I saw people make comments along the lines of yours before too, so please don’t take it personally (And I wouldn’t even say with certainty that the OP wrote that post specifically because of your comments... I know that we already discussed that issue in private before (because we talk regularly about almost everything Dany related). And I know that she’s a very diligent meta writer that has dozens of metas prepared in advance that will be posted weekly throughout the year. So I wouldn’t be surprised if she had already written that post specifically for Daenerys’s Day a while ago).

All these petty things were annoying me (not just your comment) when I made that rant in the tags and I come to Tumblr specifically to whine about fandom stuff, so... Yeah, sorry lol.

Also, I 100% agree with you when you say that many fans “would still regard it a non-offensive, "feminist" story even with the exact show ending attached to the books”. It is very hypocritical that they spend thousands of words discussing how GRRM’s writing can have misogynistic implications depending on how he treats minor characters that barely have any characterization (and they made some good points, but it’s also worth noting that these characters were deliberately meant to be plot devices) and without bothering to mention how he might end up mistreating the story’s actual female protagonist (because they’re all too happy with her being given a bad ending and getting out of their faves’ way so that they can thrive). Even those discussions are clearly biased.

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silverlightqueen · 4 years

Text

Monsters

silverlightqueen’s SKZ Scarefest

ot8magicalcreature!skz x readers from all 8 fics - comedy, fluff, angst, basically just tying up the loose ends from all the fics with the setting of Jackson’s famed party lol

Word Count: 16.2k+ (she’s a monster lmao)

Summary - Jackson’s (in)famous Halloween party is finally here, after months of being hyped up, anticipated, and labelled ‘the Party of the Year’. He’s invited everyone who’s anyone - the guestlist is exclusive to say the least. Werewolves and vampires, wizards and witches, angels and demons (and demon hunters), living creatures and dead; magical folk of all kind are on their way to Jackson’s party on All Hallows Eve. Oh, and a few humans too.

Warnings: explicit discussion of sex, alcohol and mention of drugs, I think that’s it but please let me know if you noticed that I missed something!

a/n: and here is the ninth and final instalment of my SKZ Scarefest! I know it’s not actually Halloween anymore lmao but uh better late than never ig? I’ve had so much fun writing this series, and this part was actually my favourite to write, even though it’s taken me soooo long. I really hope you guys enjoy reading this (make sure you’ve read the previous parts first, or reach out to me to ask for a summary for any parts you haven’t read - this part won’t make sense if you haven’t read all of the others too!). a big thank you to @silverlightprincess for being the best, and to everyone that’s interacted with all of the previous parts, I really appreciate it. and now, this is silverlightqueen signing off on my SKZ Scarefest! x

taglist: @kodzu-ken @cloudsgathering @silverlightprincess

@peculiarskidz @cararoserae @t-tbinnie @liatlyn you guys didn’t ask to be tagged but you’ve shown interest in this part I think so I thought I’d tag you guys anyway lmao sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged lol

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‘Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, angels and demons, and everything in between! Before we get into this, I wanna lay out a couple ground rules. Wolves and vamps, if you can’t get along, stay away from each other. Wizards, witches and fairies, keep your magic away from the drinks. My bedroom is off limits, unless I take you up there myself. Everyone’s an equal here, so I don’t care if you’re a king of hell or some shit – in Jackson’s house, you’re the same as everyone else, so you better treat each other like it. And have fun, motherfuckers! Let’s get this party started!’

Jackson finishes his very eloquent speech with a loud ‘whoop’ into the DJ’s microphone, voice echoing out into the massive living room of the manor house, and everyone cheers in response. I can’t help but laugh, rolling my eyes amusedly as my friends, dressed in our matching Pink Ladies’ outfits, scream and shout, bumping their cups together enthusiastically. ‘Come on, y/n! Cheer up!’ Yeji practically bellows into my ear, and I wince at the volume of her voice over the music blasting out from the speakers. ‘I’m fine!’ I reply, the girls all raising their eyebrows at me. ‘You’re not even drinking. If you’re gonna be heartbroken, at least be drunk heartbroken!’ Chaeryeong says, the girls cheering at her words, and I laugh at them, trying not to think about the reason that I’m heartbroken. ‘Listen, y/n, Hyunjin ain’t shit! You’re better off without him! He’s fucking ancient, anyway! You need a young sexy thing instead! Fuck him!’ Ryujin exclaims, and I grin at her words. She’s right; he’s probably off feeding on some girl dressed as a sexy nurse or devil in a club, and I’m here moping at the party of the year. Fuck that.

‘Someone get me a drink!’ I say, the girls cheering loudly. ‘Yuna, get her a drink! Wait, no, you stay away from the drinks. I’ll get her a drink,’ Lia says, all of us laughing as she stumbles towards the kitchen, already a little tipsy. ‘I hate seeing you like this! You’re supposed to be my dancing partner,’ Yuna says, sitting down next to me, and I give her a sad smile. ‘I know. I’m sorry. I just can’t get him off my mind. I feel like such an idiot,’ I say, and she shakes her head, scrunching up her nose. ‘Don’t be silly, you’re not an idiot. He’s the idiot for leaving – you’re the best thing that would’ve ever happened to him,’ she says kindly, my heart swelling. ‘You’re so sweet, Yuna,’ I say, throwing my arms around her, but I don’t hear her reply, my focus shifting to the front door where I see Chan walk in, immediately catching Yeji’s eyes, and the two of them wave at each other across the room. Seungmin and Jisung follow Chan in, and I guess Hyunjin’s gonna be there too, with the rest of them. ‘Fuck. I need to go,’ I say, not wanting to see him just yet (I’m far too sober), so I detach myself from Yuna and jump up from the sofa, quickly dodging my way around people to get into the kitchen. ‘y/n!’ Lia exclaims when I pass her, ‘I’ve got your drink here!’

‘I’ll have it if she won’t!’ Jisung calls out to the girl in the Grease Pink Ladies jacket stood beside us, watching her friend rush into the kitchen. ‘Oh, uh… yeah. Here,’ the girl says, handing the cup to Jisung who thanks her with a wink, and she rolls her eyes amusedly, heading back to her friends. ‘You flirt,’ Ryujin laughs, Jisung smirking at her as he takes a sip from the drink. ‘More like slut. Whoring himself out for a drink,’ Hyunjin teases the boy, who shoves him, the two of them getting into a little fight, and Chan just sighs, looking away from the two of them with a hand raised beside his face, as though to block them from his sight.

It’s been just over a week since the boys first stumbled into the diner, and this is already the fifth time I’ve seen them. They came into the diner again a couple days later, and then again, and then another time, when Chan asked if we’d go to Jackson’s party with them. It’s a full moon tonight, so they’re gonna be disappearing in a couple hours, and then making a reappearance a bit later than that. That was their excuse for not wearing costumes, but I’m not sure I’m buying it. We decided to dress up as Harry Potter characters, us girls in the Hogwarts robes, and we already got some cute pictures at Ryujin and Yeji’s apartment before the boys came to pick us up. The girls have already started developing relationships with the boys too, and I can see us becoming one big friendship group.

With regards to Chan and I, though… things haven’t progressed in the slightest. I texted him, and we’ve been messaging, but he hasn’t made a move or anything! He’s the perfect gentleman, which is great, but also sucks, because I just want him to be forward and tell me if he’s into me. But I’ve decided not to say anything, just in case he isn’t actually into me, and I’ve misconstrued everything.

‘Oh, God, the vamps are here,’ Minho murmurs, all of the boys grumbling as they watch the vampires walk in and join the Pink Ladies girl and her Pink Ladies friends. ‘Ugh, look at them, all of them in all black. They look like they’re going to a funeral or something,’ Changbin spits out, and I exchange a glance with Chan, the boy rolling his eyes. ‘Don’t even look in their direction, guys. I don’t want anything to start, especially on a full moon. So stop looking,’ Chan says calmly, and the boys all look away, muttering under their breaths. ‘If I catch any of them giving me a funny look, I’m not holding back,’ Jisung threatens, Chan sighing wearily as I hold back a laugh. ‘Honestly. Not one peaceful party with you idiots,’ Seungmin complains, and Jisung lets out a scandalised noise. ‘Idiots? Who are you calli-’ ‘You. He’s calling you an idiot, Jisung,’ Jeongin clarifies, Jisung turning his scowl to the youngest now. ‘Are you siding with the vamps?’ he demands, everyone sighing. ‘No one’s siding with anyone. Nothing’s even happened. Can you relax?’ I say amusedly, and Jisung looks at me with a frown.

‘I hope you’re not trying to boss me around, y/n. You’re forgetting that you’re human,’ Jisung says warningly, and I roll my eyes at his empty threat. ‘And you’re forgetting something too,’ Felix says in a sing-song voice, looking amused, and Jisung’s eyes suddenly widen, flitting to Chan. He doesn’t say anything, and neither does Chan, the latter looking at the former serenely, and Jisung seems to relax under Chan’s chilled gaze. ‘What?’ Chaeryeong says suddenly, everyone’s eyes turning to her. ‘What?’ Hyunjin asks, and she rolls her eyes. ‘What did Jisung forget?’ she asks, and I won’t lie – I’d quite like to know the answer to that too. They keep doing this – one of them will say something cryptic and they’ll all look at each other and then go silent. ‘Oh, it doesn’t matter,’ Hyunjin says, us girls exchanging an exasperated glance. ‘Fine. Whatever,’ Chaeryeong sighs, the group falling silent at that. ‘Anyway… I’m gonna get a drink. Does anyone want anything?’ Minho asks, getting up from where he’s perched on the sideboard, and I raise a hand. ‘Can you get me a cup of Echo Falls please?’

‘God, these humans drink some weak shit. Echo Falls is practically flavoured water,’ I say to Felix, the boy rolling his eyes. ‘Stop eavesdropping on their conversations.’ ‘I can’t help it. You know I’ve got good hearing,’ I say, and Felix just gives me an amused smile. ‘You should be focusing on me.’ ‘You’re being boring, though. You won’t dance with me,’ I complain, pouting as I flick his plastic red devil horns, and he raises an eyebrow at me. ‘I’ve already told you why. If we dance together, you won’t keep your hands to yourself, and one of the other angels will see us and go snitching to God. I want you to speak to her before anyone else does,’ Felix explains for, like, the tenth time, and I roll my eyes at him. ‘I will speak to her. But is it that big of a deal if she hears about it from someone else beforehand? No. I just wanna dance with my boyfriend without worrying about anything,’ I whine, and his lips curl into a smile, eyes sparkling.

‘Did you just call me your boyfriend?’ he asks, and I realise that, yes, I did, and my face heats up a little. ‘No.’ ‘Are you sure?’ ‘I didn’t.’ ‘I think you did.’ ‘I think you’re hearing things.’ ‘Hmm, I’m not so sure about that,’ he teases me, and I roll my eyes, trying not to show him how embarrassed I am. ‘Whatever. Maybe I did. Am I wrong?’ I ask, and he grins at me, pulling me down from the arm of his armchair into his lap, and I’m surprised at the sudden display of affection. ‘Of course you aren’t. My girlfriend is never wrong,’ he murmurs with a grin, tilting his head up to press a gentle kiss to my lips, and I practically melt into him.

I break away a moment later, grabbing his hand and climbing up from the seat, pulling him up with me. ‘If you can kiss me, you can dance with me,’ I grin, dragging him towards where people are in a big throng, dancing along to the loud music pulsing out into the room. I wrap my arms around his neck, his arms coming around my waist, and we instantly begin dancing, bodies pressed close as we roll and wind against each other, the smiles never leaving our faces. Dancing with him like this is so… mundane, so human. To anyone else watching, we’re a boy and a girl dancing together, and that’s all. It feels like the most simple happiness, one I haven’t experienced for a long time. And one that gets cut short very quickly.

I blink, and suddenly Felix is no longer in my arms, and I’m no longer at Jackson’s party either, the air around me a startling silence. Instead, I’m stood in an office, God sat at the desk opposite me. She’s leaning back in her seat, her eyes on me, inspecting me, almost picking me apart, and I feel a little bit of panic flare inside me. I’m not prepared for this now – I’m halfway to being drunk on tequila shots.

‘Are you dressed as an angel?’ she asks amusedly, and I nod, feeling sheepish now in my little white dress, wings pinned onto the back of it, and my wire halo headband. ‘Quite ironic. Such a crude depiction, these humans have of my angels. Though… I do like your dress,’ she says softly, and I’m flattered. If God likes my dress, it must be good, right? Or maybe it’s not. I mean… I thought this was sexy and revealing, but if God likes it, it’s probably not as sexy or revealing as I thought. Shame.

‘Did someone snitch?’ I ask bluntly, and she lets out a gentle laugh, the sound melodious and light. ‘Yes. Somebody… snitched.’ ‘Who?’ ‘I’m snitching if I tell you,’ she says with a small smile, and I roll my eyes. ‘Can’t you just tell me?’ ‘It was Seungmin.’ ‘That little shit,’ I mutter, sighing in annoyance. ‘Felix didn’t make me aware of your relationship.’ ‘I know. I told him I’d speak to you about it.’ ‘You speak to me? Why not him? He’s here every day. You… are not,’ she says pointedly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. ‘I know, but he was nervous, so I said I’d handle it.’ ‘And how will you handle it?’ she asks amusedly, leaning forward with her elbows on the desk. ‘By asking for your permission.’

She looks quite taken aback at my answer, raising an eyebrow in surprise. ‘Asking my permission?’ ‘Yeah. We assumed you wouldn’t be too impressed if one of your angels pursues a relationship with a demon.’ ‘I wouldn’t be impressed if the circumstances were any different. But, as I’ve observed recently, you seem to be particularly harmless with Felix around. He keeps you under control. I suppose it’d be in my best interests to encourage him to be around you, to keep you on a better track than Lucifer would have you on,’ she shudders, saying his name with disdain, and I bite my tongue rather than defend my father. I doubt she’d take well to it.

‘So you don’t mind?’ ‘No. I don’t. He’s good for you. And I’m quite impressed that you unconsciously won his affections. I never expected such a lovely angel to fall for a demon,’ she says, and I feel my lips quirk up into a small grin. ‘He’s a dark horse.’ ‘Apparently so.’ ‘Does this mean you’re not gonna kill me?’ ‘Yes, y/n, I’m not going to kill you. I’m nothing if not benevolent. So you may return to your party. Just bear in mind,’ she adds, as though it’s an afterthought, ‘I have a particular fondness for Felix, so see to it that you don’t break his heart.’ ‘I can’t make any promises,’ I say honestly, and she just looks at me for a moment, deep in thought, before a small smile breaks across her face. ‘I can’t fault you for such a truthful answer. Now go,’ she says with a kind smile, her warmth seeping into even my cold heart, ‘make him happy.’

The next time I blink, I open my eyes to Jackson’s party once more, the earsplittingly loud music making me wince as I scan the room for my boyfriend. ‘y/n!’ I hear him call from behind me, and I turn to briefly see his panicked face before he pulls me into his arms. ‘You disappeared! I was worried sick,’ he says into my ear, holding me in a vice-like grip, and I let out a laugh, pushing him away gently. ‘I’m fine,’ I murmur, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. ‘Where were you?’ he asks with his big eyes, and I grin, before replying, ‘With God.’

‘Goodness. Whatever were you doing with that bore?’ I ask Lucifer’s daughter, my equivalent of the ninth circle, and a smile of joy spreads across her face at the sight of me. We hold each other in a brief embrace, her boyfriend stood to the side, watching with curiosity. ‘What are you doing here? It’s been forever since I saw you at a party,’ she says, her language so much more modern than mine. I suppose I hung onto my outdated vocabulary, just as I hung onto my love. ‘I have much to celebrate. My love is returned. Changbin is himself once more,’ I inform her, her face lighting up at the news. ‘No way! That’s amazing, I’m so happy for you! Is he here?’ she asks excitedly, and I nod. ‘He is getting a drink for me – I am quite parched. Be sure to greet him at some point before you depart. He has missed you all – he was more excitable than I have ever seen him as we were readying ourselves for this party. He could not wait to come and see you all once more,’ I explain, hearing the fondness in my own voice. ‘I will, of course. It’ll be nice to see him.’

‘Yes. It shall. And who, may I ask, is your companion?’ ‘This is Felix. He’s an angel, which is why I was with God,’ she explains, my mouth falling open. ‘You, Lucifer’s daughter, with an angel? Goodness me, this is surprising news. I expected you to choose Minho as your companion. Certainly not a being so… soft. But if you are happy, I am happy for you. I just hope Felix does not do anything to hurt you, for he shall have many dark ones to answer to,’ I say threateningly to the sweet boy, his face falling as he gulps. ‘Of course not. I’d never hurt her,’ he says quietly, and I smile at him, taking to him almost instantly. He reminds me of a little lamb, or a gentle fairy. He is quite lovely. ‘I am glad to hear so. I am going to go and find Changbin, for he has been gone a while, but I hope to catch up with you at some point tonight,’ I say to the both of them, embracing them both and taking Felix quite by surprise when I do so (it is unusual for demons to be so kind to those they have just met, but I quite enjoy teasing other beings, and making them all flustered), a small smile on my face at his girlfriend’s soft giggles, before I turn away, making my way towards the kitchen and stifling a laugh when I hear Felix ask, ‘Who’s Minho?’

I enter the kitchen, Changbin stood on the opposite side of the room, pouring himself a scotch, a glass of red wine for me beside his tumbler glass. I glide over to him, sliding my arms around his waist when I reach him, and a smile stretches across his face when I press a kiss to his cheek. ‘I have missed you,’ he murmurs, turning to pull me into his arms, and I let out a soft laugh. ‘I left for a few minutes – you cannot have missed me that much,’ I reply, and he grins at me. ‘I don’t mean the last few minutes – I mean the last few centuries,’ he chuckles, and I feel my heart swell. He has told me he missed me so many times over the past few days and it has not yet become old to hear him say so. ‘I like hearing you say that.’ ‘I shall say it to you every day for the rest of our lives if you so wish,’ he proclaims, making me giggle (only he can make me behave as though I am a young teenage human girl with her first love).

I can feel eyes on us, and I manage to pick up whispers here and there, about how the famed original demon hunter is no longer a demon hunter, and is in the kitchen of a Halloween party thrown by a drunken fool. How Jackson has all these connections, I am not quite sure, though I suppose he is a sweet boy on occasion, when he is not intoxicated out of his sanity. ‘People are talking.’ ‘That is what they do.’ ‘I mean, they are talking about us.’ ‘They will always talk about us,’ he grins, cockiness seeping into his tone, and I roll my eyes. ‘More specifically, they are talking about you.’ ‘Well, they will always talk about me.’ ‘And why is that, my love?’ I ask with a grin, leaning against him with my arms around his neck, and he leans back against the counter, hands resting low on my back. ‘Would you like to guess, my love?’ ‘Your dashing good looks?’ ‘No.’ ‘Your unfairly perfect body?’ ‘Not quite.’ ‘Your… lovely personality?’ ‘Not even close,’ he says with a grin, childish giggles falling from my lips every few seconds. ‘Then what, my love?’ I ask, feeling drunk on love when he replies, ‘they wonder how somebody like me is with such a perfect lady like you.’

‘Wow. Did you hear that? That was the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,’ I murmur to Jisung, the boy rolling his eyes as he takes a sip from his beer. ‘He’s had a long time to practice his lines,’ Jisung says dryly, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘So have you, being a thousands-of-years-old demon and all.’ ‘Nope. I was too busy fucking people. Anyway, stop listening to other people’s romantic conversations, and focus on your own romance,’ he says sternly, and I hold back a laugh. ‘Romance? He didn’t even pick me up. He said he’d ‘see me there’ which is, like, totally not a date,’ I say mildly, and Jisung shakes his head. ‘He’s trying not to be too eager.’ ‘He’s going a little too much the other way.’ ‘Well… he’ll regret it when he sees you. You look hot,’ he says offhandedly, though the way his eyes roam over me hungrily betray his cool demeanour. ‘I do, don’t I? It was a good costume suggestion you made,’ I say, looking down at my angel costume. It’s a little basic – quite a few other girls here are dressed as angels (I’m pretty sure I saw a princess of Hell dressed as one, which is quite funny actually) – but the white dress, feather wings and tinsel halo are quite cute, if I say so myself.

‘Yep, it was. Sex God Seonghwa’s gonna love it,’ he grins, and I shush him, looking around embarrassedly in case someone heard. ‘Relax, relax. Oh, look. Talk of the devil…’ he trails off, and I follow his eye line to the door of the kitchen, Seonghwa and his friends just walking in. They’re dressed in standard house party outfits with a little bit of makeup on their faces – a half-skeleton face here and a half-zombie face there. I’m not quite sure what Seonghwa’s supposed to be, with his bright white contacts and cuts across his eyes, but he looks hot. I catch his eye, and he smiles widely at me, the butterflies I usually feel when he looks at me absent today, but I shrug it off. ‘I’m gonna go say hi,’ I say, rising from my seat, and Jisung nods. ‘I’ll be with Hyunjin, if you need me. Not that you will, but… just in case,’ he says gently, and I nod with a smile before heading towards Seonghwa.

‘Hey, y/n. You look… nice,’ he says with a devilish grin, eyes flitting over me before he pulls me into a loose hug. ‘Thanks, Seonghwa. You look good, too. I like your… contacts,’ I say awkwardly, but he continues grinning at me as though he can’t feel the uncomfortable tension in the air. ‘Thanks. Not more than my real eyes, I hope,’ he jokes, and I let out a forced laugh. ‘No, of course not. You’re real eyes are, uh, much nicer.’ ‘Thanks. Can I get you a drink?’ he offers, and I hold up the cup in my hand awkwardly. ‘Oh, never mind. I’ll just grab myself a beer,’ he laughs, turning to get one out of the fridge, and I want to scream at myself. Why am I being so awkward with him? Come on, y/n, step up your game.

‘So what exactly are you supposed to be?’ I ask, trying to sound more comfortable than I feel, and he grins as he flips the top off the bottle with a bottle opener. ‘Can’t you tell? I’m a… possessed… devil… thing?’ he says, and I laugh, the boy laughing with me. ‘You don’t sound so sure.’ ‘Yeah, it’s a little ambiguous. Wooyoung did it and I’m not sure what he was going for, but I’ll roll with it,’ he chuckles before motioning to me. ‘Your outfit’s pretty obvious, though. A perfect little angel, right?’ he smirks, and I let out a fake laugh. ‘How did you guess?’ ‘I think the halo and the wings give it away a little. The dress isn’t too angelic, though. A little… tight. Not that I’m complaining,’ he grins, and I feel my heart sinking. He’s attracted to me, he’s flirting with me, and yet… I don’t feel a single thing. What is wrong with me?

‘Well… I’m glad you like it. It’s a little… out there for me,’ I admit, hoping that derailing the conversation to something a little more tame will make things less awkward. ‘It really suits you. I think you should wear things like this all the time, if you want to. Be more confident in your body,’ he says encouragingly, and I feel so sad. Look how nice he’s being, and I still somehow feel like I’d much rather be talking to anyone else at this party. ‘I’ll try. I’m not sure my tutors would be too impressed if I showed up to my lectures and seminars in teeny little bodycon dresses,’ I joke, and he chuckles, grinning. ‘Maybe not,’ he murmurs with a smirk, ‘but I’m sure… other people would appreciate it.’

‘God, that’s the most awkward conversation I’ve ever listened to in my life,’ I say dryly to Ryujin as we leave the kitchen. ‘I know! The girl was obviously not interested, but he was not getting the message,’ she says, both of us wincing at the thought of how uncomfortable that was. ‘Boys are so dense,’ I complain as I throw myself down onto the sofa beside Lia, Ryujin perching on the arm of the sofa beside where Yuna sits. ‘Listen to you. She’s got a demon boyfriend now and, suddenly, she’s above human boys,’ Chaeryeong teases, and I raise my eyebrow, the other girls laughing. ‘He’s not my boyfriend. I’ve met him once.’ ‘And that was enough for him to fall in love with you,’ Lia says simply, and I roll my eyes. ‘He’s not in love!’ ‘He’s willing to come to a human party for you – it’s close enough to love,’ Yeji says dryly, and I shake my head with an amused smile. ‘This is not a human party at all. We’re like the only humans here, pretty much.’ ‘Us and that girl being practically tortured by that boy in the kitchen,’ Ryujin says with a wince, and I laugh. ‘Poor thing. We should’ve saved her. Pretended we know her or something.’ ‘Na, he was pretty hot. Maybe she’s just looking to get laid,’ Ryujin says with a shrug, and I consider it, nodding after a moment.

‘Who’s looking to get laid?’ a familiar voice says, and I look up to see Minho stood there, my heart stopping momentarily. He looks so handsome, in a pair of tight black trousers and a black shirt with white stripes on it, an expensive-looking black jacket thrown over the top of it, a smart casual outfit perfect for a date. I tried my best to wear something that doubles as a date outfit and a Halloween costume, but all I could come up with is a little black dress and a cat ear headband with a matching tail on my ass which I’ll take off when we leave here. At least I look sexy in it.

He holds out a hand to me and I take it, letting him pull me up from my seat, and he keeps my hand in his, holding it up and pressing his soft lips against my skin. ‘You sound different,’ Ryujin observes dryly, eyebrow raised, and he grins at her. ‘I decided to drop the formalities. No one wants to date a guy who sounds like he’s just stepped out of the Victorian era. Unless you’re into that?’ he asks with a grin, coaxing a laugh from me, and I’m relieved to hear him speaking like this instead of that stiff formal language. It makes him much less… intimidating.

‘I brought my friends,’ he says, and my eyes focus on the group stood a few feet behind him, all of them dressed similarly to Minho. They’re all taking turns to hug one blond boy who I saw earlier with his gorgeous girlfriend, the girl now stood beside the group, watching them with a loving smile on her face. ‘I’ll introduce them in a minute. Our friend was turned into a demon hunter centuries ago, and we’ve just now found out he’s back to being a demon again. It’s a long story – I’ll explain over dinner,’ he says, and I’m a little confused but I brush it off, just nodding.

‘Dinner?’ a voice says from behind Minho, the boy turning to reveal the blond boy’s girlfriend. She’s dressed in an elegant white evening dress, decked out in jewels and finery, a white veil in her hair and horribly gory cuts and wounds all over her face and chest. ‘Yes, dinner.’ ‘Ah, so this is the date you mentioned?’ she says, her eyes flitting to me, and I feel a little intimidated under her powerful gaze. ‘Hi. I’m y/n,’ I say shyly, and she looks impressed, holding out a hand to me, and I shake it firmly. ‘Nice to meet you, y/n. I am the Princess of the 5th Circle of Hell,’ she says with a smile, and I blink in surprise. ‘Charmed,’ I reply faintly, and she lets out a gentle laugh. ‘Does she not know of our nature, Minho?’ ‘She does. I suppose it takes a little getting used to,’ he says ruefully, and I nod embarrassedly.

‘You are dressed as a cat,’ she observes, and I nod, even more embarrassed. She looks all graceful as a zombie bride (I think?), and I’m in a cheap ass black dress and a flimsy plastic headband. ‘Minho has a liking for cats,’ she says amusedly, Minho choking on thin air, and I try to ignore the girls’ stifled laughter behind me as I say, ‘I… didn’t know that.’ ‘I guessed as much. What exactly are you supposed to be, Minho?’ ‘A normal boy taking a girl to dinner?’ he says with a small grin, and the girl rolls her eyes. ‘How boring.’

‘We don’t all have your creativity, Miss Zombie Bride,’ he teases sarcastically, and she lets out a little outraged gasp. ‘How dare you? Are you accusing me of being unoriginal? You should see Lucifer’s Princess – she’s dressed as an angel, and she’s here with her angel boyfriend,’ the girl says, sounding a little gossipy, and Minho’s mouth falls open. ‘Angel boyfriend?’ he asks, the girl nodding with a grin, satisfied at Minho’s reaction. ‘Do not ask her for details – she will gossip with you all night, and you shall be late to dinner with your human love,’ the blond-haired boy says amusedly, Minho nodding before his eyes flit back to me, a grin spreading on his handsome face.

He holds an arm out to me, and I link mine with his shyly, feeling more than intimidated with all these demons around. ‘We should get going. I’m parked outside,’ he says, and I feel excited – I’m really looking forward to this, regardless of the fact that my date is a demon prince. ‘Why did you bring a car?’ the demon princess says amusedly, and I look between her and Minho with confusion. ‘How else would we get there?’ ‘We can travel without… vehicles. What is it you humans call it… ah, teleporting, I believe,’ she says, and my eyes widen. ‘Can we do that?’ I ask Minho excitedly, and he shakes his head, an amused smile on his face. ‘You’ve never done it before, and it takes a lot of getting used to. I don’t want you to get hurt,’ he says, the last bit a little quieter, and his demon friends behind him fail at holding back their laughter, making him look more than a bit sheepish. ‘Do not tease him. He is obviously taken with her, and it is high time he settled down,’ the demon princess says, though she looks like she’s holding back laughter too, and Minho just shakes his head.

‘We’re going. See you in a few hours,’ he says embarrassedly, leading me towards the door, and I wave goodbye to the girls and Minho’s friends over my shoulder, all of them watching us leave with big smiles on their faces. We dodge around the groups of partygoers, dressed up all sorts of supernatural creatures and famous characters, and it feels like we’ve entered another world when we step out through the front door, the air clear, crisp and quiet. ‘Are you cold?’ he asks, and I shake my head, his eyebrow raising. ‘Okay, maybe I am.’ ‘I’d be shocked if you weren’t in that dress,’ he says amusedly, taking his jacket off and helping me to put it on, giving me butterflies. It smells like expensive aftershave and something… dark and smoky, like night itself. ‘Come on, angel, let’s get going,’ he grins, throwing an arm around my shoulders and leading me towards where several cars are parked on the driveway of the manor. ‘Where are we going?’ I ask, and his grins grows even wider. ‘Wherever you want to go, angel,’ he says softly, holding me close to him, ‘I’ll go anywhere with you.’

‘Oh, my God. That was so romantic,’ I squeal under my breath as we pass the couple who are leaving, the boy holding the passenger door of his car open for the girl, and I.N. – no, Jeongin – rolls his eyes. ‘It was cheesy,’ he says, ever the cynic, and I shoot him a look. ‘Whatever, grumpy,’ I mutter, and he lets out a little laugh. ‘I’m not grumpy.’ ‘You are! You complained the entire way here!’ ‘Yeah, because I don’t want to be here. I don’t like leaving the house.’ ‘But I’ve got a s-’ ‘Surprise, yes, I know. It’d be nice if you told me what it was,’ he says pointedly, and I roll my eyes. ‘It’s not a surprise if I tell you,’ I say simply, the boy muttering something under his breath as we reach the front door. I push it open, stepping through the doorway with Jeongin behind me, and I can feel the nervous energy practically radiating from him as we head further into the party. This is the first time he’s left the house to go further than the local shops and I can understand his anxiety, which is why I reach out and take his hand into mine, leading him through the big groups of people, to where they said they’d be in the kitchen.

‘Okay, I have some good news,’ I say when we reach the door of the kitchen, his hand still in mine, and he looks relieved that he’s finding out the surprise. ‘What’s the good news?’ ‘You can carry on living in 325 Sunshine Street,’ I say excitedly, looking forward to his reaction, and his face lights up. ‘You’re not selling it?’ he asks breathlessly, eyes sparkling with excitement, and I hesitate. ‘It’s still being sold… to me. I’m moving in,’ I say tentatively, and he doesn’t react for a moment. I worry that I’ve got this all wrong, that this is the last thing he would want, and that this is going to ruin the friendship that’s developed between us, the friendship that I treasure more than I realised. ‘You’re moving in?’ he asks, and I nod slowly. ‘I mean, only if you want me to! I don’t have t-’ ‘I want you to. I really want you to. Are you serious?’ he asks, eyes lighting up as he speaks, and relief floods through me. ‘Yes, I’m serious. I’m buying the house!’ I exclaim, and he lets out a loud whoop of excitement, pulling me into his arms. He’s so real, so warm and soft, and he doesn’t feel like a ghost at all.

‘That’s the best surprise you could’ve given me!’ he says contentedly, pulling away from me, and I can’t help but grin at him, so happy that he’s happy. ‘Actually… I don’t think it is. I have an even better one for you,’ I say excitedly, and he eyes me suspiciously. ‘Another surprise? Better than you moving in?’ ‘Mmhmm. It’s in the kitchen,’ I say, and he looks at the door before looking back at me. ‘Can I…?’ he asks, and I nod, laughing. He holds a hand up to the door, looking nervous as he pushes it open, and when he opens it, I wish I could imprint the look on his face to my brain forever, the look of pure wonder and happiness making me feel warm inside.

I can hear loud yelling from the kitchen before Jeongin rushes in, and I follow behind him, watching with a fond smile as his friends greet him and hug him for the first time since their exams all those years ago. For the first time since he died. I reached out to Chan last night, who was the one trying to sell the house, and told him everything. He told the other boys, and they told me they’d be at the party tonight, asking if I could bring him so they could see him again. When I first spoke to Chan, I suggested they all move into the house with Jeongin, but he told me that some of them were married with children. They had their own families now, and it was too late for them to move in with their old family. Which is when I came up with the idea to live there myself. I still have to work out the logistics, and how I’m going to tell my parents that I’m moving out of their house to live with my friend that they’ve never heard of in the house I’ve been trying to sell for months and haven’t been able to do so. But that’ll come later.

Jeongin’s eyes are full of tears and so are his brothers’, all of them radiating happiness as they embrace, and try to catch him up on what’s been going on in the past few years. He looks so young next to them, but I can see the echo of what they were at school, his presence making them seem younger too. I stand in the doorway and watch, wanting him to have his time with them, but he turns to look at me after a few minutes, telling them he’ll be right back. ‘You’re the best. Thank you,’ he says sincerely, pulling me into another hug, and I feel my heart melt. ‘You’re welcome. Now go back to your family, stupid. You’ll have all the time in the world to speak to me, when we live together,’ I say with a grin, and he rolls his eyes. ‘You’re the stupid one, y/n,’ he grins, and I raise an eyebrow, and my heart swells when he says, ‘don’t you know you’re my family now too?’

‘Did you hear that? How cute,’ I say to Chaeryeong as we enter the living room, wanting a reprieve from the racket those boys were making in the kitchen. ‘Yeah, but what’s the context? Because it’s not cute if she’s into him. That wasn’t even friendzone – it was familyzone,’ Chaeryeong says, making me laugh. ‘I didn’t think about that. Poor thing,’ I say as we head to the bathroom. There’s a little room before the actual bathroom itself, with mirrors lining the walls, and we head to the one in the corner to check our appearances. I nearly have a heart attack when I spot a wrinkle creasing my forehead, and I feel faint when I see grey locks streaked through my hair, making me look more like the Bride of Frankenstein than the sexy vampire I’m dressed up as. ‘I’m gonna cry. Look at the state of me. I look like an old lady,’ I wail miserably, Chaeryeong giving me a pitying look. ‘You don’t, y/n! This hairstyle is in!’ ‘Okay, but wrinkles all over my face isn’t!’ I shriek, the girl wincing when she spots them. ‘Well… you’ve gotta break the curse then.’ ‘I’ve been trying. It’s harder than you think. I’ve been doing so many selfless and generous things, but apparently not without judgement, even though I wasn’t even being judgemental,’ I complain, and Chaeryeong raises an eyebrow.

‘What have you been doing?’ ‘I paid for the coffee of the guy behind me in Starbucks, even though he totally wasn’t my type. I gave this half-troll girl a pad when I went for dinner with Yuna last night. I stopped to let an old man cross the road, and he was super slow. I did loads of other stuff too!’ I list off, and Chaeryeong shakes her head despairingly. ‘y/n, you moron! You judged every one of those people!’ ‘No, I didn’t!’ ‘Listen to how you just described them. A guy who wasn’t your type. A half-troll girl. An old man. You’re supposed to look past people’s appearance, but that’s the way you just described them all, stupid!’ she exclaims, and my mouth falls open. She’s right. I am stupid. ‘Oh, my God. I’m never gonna break this curse. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I look at people without seeing what they look like?’ I wail helplessly, Chaeryeong rolling her eyes at me.

Before she can speak, a girl dressed as a devil walks in, ranting and raving angrily, and Chaeryeong exchange a glance. She looks like she’s crying, her friend trying her best to comfort her. ‘Are you okay?’ I ask, and she looks at me in surprise before letting out a loud sob. ‘No,’ she wails, and I step towards her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. ‘What’s the matter?’ I ask, and her friend sighs. ‘Her ex is here, with his new girlfriend, and they’re dressed as an angel and devil. She thinks her ex’s new girl is a better devil than she is, and now she feels like an idiot that she’s wearing a couple costume with her ex, but he’s here with his new girl,’ her friend explains, and I wince. It’s an awkward situation to say the least, and I feel really sorry for her. If that was me, I’d probably leave out of embarrassment, especially if I thought her costume was better than mine.

The girl in front of me is in all black with a red belt (a devil tail hanging from it) and red devil horns, with red contacts like mine, and she looks around the same size as me. ‘Oh, my God, I just had the best idea! Why don’t we swap outfits? You can have my fake fangs and I brought fake blood, too, and I’ll have your horns and belt! Then you can be a sexy vampire instead of a sexy devil!’ I suggest excitedly, the girl’s eyes lighting up. ‘You’d do that?’ ‘Of course. Exes are, like, the worst. Here,’ I say, pulling my fangs out and rushing into the bathroom to give them a quick wash. When I came back, she’s taken off the belt and horns, holding them out to me. ‘You’re really nice, you know? Thank you so much,’ she says sincerely, looking a lot happier now than she did a minute ago, and I grin at her. ‘No problem,’ I reply, passing her the fangs, and I help her to put some fake blood around her mouth and in two dots on her neck. She keeps thanking me and we even exchange socials before she leaves, because she says she wants to keep in touch with the girl that saved her Halloween. I can’t stop smiling as I put on the belt and horns, carefully wiping away the fake blood on my mouth and neck, touching it up with my foundation. It feels nice to do something nice for someone.

‘Oh, my God!’ Chaeryeong exclaims, and I look at her worriedly. ‘What?’ ‘Look at your hair!’ she practically screams, and I look at myself in the mirror. The grey has disappeared from my hair, and so have the wrinkles on my face. My body feels a little stronger than it did a few minutes ago, and I poke my tongue around at the back of my mouth, finding that there are no longer gaps where three of my teeth fell out yesterday. ‘I broke the curse!’ I say excitedly, Chaeryeong pulling me into an excited hug. ‘Look how easy it was!’ ‘I know! God, this’ll teach me to stop being such a bitch. Ugh, I’m so glad to have my teeth back! I’m gonna go find Seungmin,’ I say, wanting to tell him, and she nods. ‘I’ll be with the girls. Just phone me if you can’t find us,’ she says, and we leave the bathroom, going our separate ways.

It doesn’t take me long to find Seungmin – I can hear his friendship group from a mile away – and he grins at me as I approach. ‘You just broke it, didn’t you?’ he asks, and my eyes widen. ‘How did you know?’ ‘It’s obvious. Look how excited you are. How did you do it?’ he asks, and I explain to him, the boy rolling his eyes. ‘See how simple it is? I’m glad you’ve learnt not to be a judgmental bitch now,’ he teases, and I shove him half-heartedly. ‘Whatever. But, honestly… I really have learnt my lesson. I feel terrible about that witch now. I’ll never be nasty again,’ I proclaim, and Seungmin raises an eyebrow. ‘We’ll see about that.’ ‘Well… I’ll try to never be nasty again,’ I amend, and he laughs. ‘That sounds more like you.’

‘y/n! Long time, no see! Are you two back together?’ Changbin slurs drunkenly, throwing his arms around us, and I wince as Seungmin closes his eyes momentarily. ‘No. We’re not,’ he replies, Changbin cringing. ‘Oh. Sorry for making it awkward. I’m gonna just…’ he trails off, turning back to the boys and whispering loud enough for us to hear, ‘they’re not back together, Jisung. You owe me a twenty.’ Seungmin sighs, putting a hand over his face as though he’s trying to keep himself together, and I let out a little laugh. ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘It’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal,’ I say, and Seungmin hesitates before saying, ‘I actually wanted to speak to you about that.’ I freeze for a moment, blinking as I try to process his words.

‘About… us?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘I know you ended things because I’m immortal, but I… found something. I’ve been looking for a… solution to that problem, and I found one. There’s this… potion, I guess, a really complicated one that takes a long time to brew, but I collected all the ingredients and I’ve started brewing it already,’ he begins, and I’m itching to hear the rest of what he’s got to say. ‘It’s an immortality potion, but it works in different ways, depending on who takes it. If someone mortal takes it, they become immortal. If someone immortal takes it…’ he trails off, and I finish for him; ‘they become mortal.’ He nods gravely, and I don’t reply for a few seconds, mind working at a million miles an hour.

‘So you want me to take the potion to be immortal?’ ‘No! No, y/n, God, no! I’d never ask that of you!’ he says quickly, looking shocked that I even asked, and then I realise what he means. ‘You’re suggesting that you take it? To be mortal?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘But… is that what you want?’ I ask, and he sighs, taking a few moments to reply; ‘I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and… yeah, I think so. I mean…. I don’t want to outlive everyone around me, everyone I care about, and love. And it’s not even outliving them, it’s seeing them turn 30, 40, 50, 60, whilst I still look like a teenager. I don’t want that to happen. I want to grow old with the people I love. I… I want to grow old with you,’ he says quietly, and I feel my heart stop momentarily. ‘Me?’ ‘Yes. You, y/n. I still love you. A lot, actually. I’d do anything for a life with you. And I understand if you don’t feel the same way anymore, but I thought I’d tell you, because I know that’s the reason you ended things. I guess… I’m hoping that that was the only reason, and that now I can fix it, you’ll have me back. But I get it if you don’t want to-’ ‘I do, though. I really, really do,’ I say without even thinking, and his eyes widen, face lighting up.

‘Wait, really?’ ‘Yes, Seungmin. I do want to have you back. But… I want you to properly think about this. It’s a big sacrifice that you’re thinking of making, and I want you to think it through.’ ‘y/n, I’ve been thinking it through the entire time we were broken up, the entire time I was looking for the potion. It’s all I ever thought about. I want this,’ he says earnestly, and I know that he’s being truthful, that he really has thought this through properly. He’s mature and responsible, and I know he wouldn’t rush into a decision like this without thinking it through properly. ‘Okay,’ I say simply, and he blinks in surprise. ‘Okay?’ ‘Okay. I’ll be with you.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Yes, Seungmin, really,’ I laugh, and he lets out a loud shout of celebration, throwing his arms around me in a hug and I giggle at his reaction, touched at his excitement. ‘Are you back together?’ Jisung demands when we break apart, and I roll my eyes as Seungmin sighs at him. ‘Yes. We are now.’ ‘Ha! Changbin, you better give me that twenty back!’

‘Oh, that reminds me of our bet!’ Jisung says suddenly, all of us looking at him in surprise. ‘What? What bet?’ Yuna asks, and the boys exchange yet another cryptic glance, none of them speaking. ‘Oh, my God!’ Lia exclaims, finally losing her patience, ‘what is wrong with you guys? Why can’t you just tell us what the hell is going on? Or, at least, stop talking about it in front of us! Because I’m fed up of it n-’ ‘y/n,’ Chan says suddenly, cutting Lia’s tirade off, and we all turn our gazes to him. ‘I wasn’t talking, it was Lia-‘ ‘I know. I just… can I have a word with you? Outside, please,’ he says quietly, and I blink in confusion. What’s with the weird timing, and what exactly does he want to say? ‘Um, yeah, okay,’ I say softly, completely confused, and Chan rises from his seat, holding out a hand to help me up too. He leads me through to the back of the house, taking me out into the grounds, and he sits us down on a bench, a group of boys sat smoking weed on the bench on our left, and two other boys having a heart-to-heart on the bench to our right.

‘What’s the matter, Chan? Are you okay?’ I say concernedly, and he gives me a faint smile. ‘I’m fine. I just… I’ve got something important that I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, but it’s kinda… serious. Just, um… prepare yourself,’ he says seriously, and I side-eye him. ‘You’re scaring me, Chan.’ ‘It’s not bad! Well, maybe it is. I don’t know,’ he rambles, and I let out a little laugh. ‘Chan, just tell me.’ ‘Sorry, sorry. Um, so, basically… you are my… um… my mate,’ he says slowly, wincing as he speaks, and I just blink for a few seconds before asking, ‘Your mate?’ ‘Yep.’ ‘Like… life companion forever?’ ‘That’s right, yeah.’ ‘But… I’m a human,’ I say slowly, unable to believe what he’s saying. ‘Anyone can be our mates. Even… vampires, or demons. So, yeah… you’re my mate. But just because you’re my mate, it doesn’t mean I have to be yours,’ he says, almost sounding sad. ‘What do you mean?’ I ask, puzzled, and he sighs.

‘Humans don’t have mates, so you can be with anyone you want to be, fall in love with anyone you want to fall in love with. You don’t have to be with me if you don’t want to,’ he explains, and I feel even more confused. ‘Wait, so what does it mean then? Like… I’m your mate but I don’t have to be with you? So what’s the point of it then?’ ‘It means that I will never… want anyone else, or love anyone else. Not that I want or love you – I barely know you – but y-’ ‘I know what you mean. So… if you don’t end up with me, you’ll end up alone?’ I ask, and he nods sadly. ‘But don’t… force yourself to be with me because of that. I want you to be happy, whether or not that’s with me,’ he says, and I can feel the burden of it already settling on my shoulders. I’m the love of his life – he’ll never love anyone other than me.

‘Um…’ I begin, but Chan cuts me off, ‘you don’t have to, like, make any decisions, or even say anything. I just… thought it was important that I told you.’ ‘Yeah, I know. I’m glad you told me, because now I can tell you that I’ve been crushing on you since the second I saw you, and I’d really like it if we went on a date together,’ I force myself to say, feeling so nervous even though he’s just told me I’m his mate. He just stares at me for a second before he says, ‘really?’ ‘Yeah. Really.’ ‘Well… I’d really like it if we went on a date, too,’ he says with a grin, and I can’t help but smile back shyly. ‘God, y/n, I was supposed to ask you out! Not the other way around!’ he complains, and I let out a fond laugh, amused at his childish behaviour that he’d never show around the other boys. ‘Well, you did make the first move by telling me I’m your mate,’ I point out and he thinks for a moment before a satisfied smile spreads across his face. ‘Yeah, I guess I did,’ he grins, and I roll my eyes.

‘Come on, let’s go back in. You must be cold out here, and we better get going. We’ll be turning soon,’ he says, standing up and taking my hand to pull me up from the bench. ‘So what’s the bet Jisung mentioned?’ I ask, curious, and Chan lets out an embarrassed laugh. ‘Whether or not I’d tell you tonight. They all betted I wouldn’t, and I said I would. They owe me ten each now,’ he says with a victorious grin. ‘I’m gonna deny all knowledge,’ I laugh, and his mouth falls open. ‘You wouldn’t betray me like that!’ he exclaims dramatically, making me giggle. ‘I won’t if you share the money with me.’ ‘y/n,’ he begins, eyes sparkling with amusement, ‘you’re my mate. I’d share my life with you if you asked.’

‘Ugh, did you hear that sappy shit that wolf was saying? Oh, y/n!’ Jisung says when he sees me, eyes lighting up which makes my heart stop for a moment. ‘Hey,’ I say, sounding breathless to my own ears, and Jisung grins at my tone, looking up at me stood before the bench with dark eyes. ‘y/n. It’s nice to meet you,’ the boy sat next to him says, and my eyes flit to Hyunjin, the boy Daehwi originally tried to set me up with. He’s even hotter in person. ‘Hey, Hyunjin. It’s nice to meet you too,’ I say shyly, and he grins. ‘Sorry I couldn’t make it. But I’ve heard Jisung more than made up for my absence. You two have struck up quite the friendship, right?’ he asks, and my gaze turns to Jisung, the boy smirking, and I look back to Hyunjin before nodding. ‘Yeah, we have, actually. He’s a great friend.’ ‘And a great wingman too, by the sound of it,’ Hyunjin grins, and I feel my face heat up at the thought that these two very attractive boys both know that less than two weeks ago, I was an untouched virgin who wanted to have sex before my first ever date. I’m embarrassed beyond belief, and it’s like they can both sense it, amusement settling on both of their faces.

‘Yeah, y/n, speaking of which, where is your date?’ he asks, and I remember why I came out here, a pout making its way onto my face. Jisung and Hyunjin move apart, making space for me on the bench, and I throw myself down with a long, dramatic sigh. ‘He is literally… so boring,’ I admit, both of them bursting into laughter. ‘Don’t laugh! It’s not funny! I’m, like, heartbroken!’ I complain, annoyed that they think this is funny, but I can also feel myself holding back laughter. ‘Sorry, sorry. But… y/n, I thought you wanted to have sex with him. You don’t have to find him fascinating,’ Jisung says, and I let out another long sigh. ‘I’m not like you stupid boys. I don’t wanna just have sex with someone because they’re good looking. I was attracted to him until I found out he’s literally the most boring guy I’ve ever spoken to in my life. Okay, maybe not boring. Just… we’re not compatible, so it was really, really awkward. And the worst thing was that it seemed like he didn’t even realise that is was awkward. He just kept talking,’ I explain, the boys nonstop laughing as I talk, and I’m laughing along with them by the time I finish speaking.

‘That’s such a shame, y/n,’ Hyunjin says, still laughing, and Jisung says, ‘maybe not. I don’t want you in a relationship.’ I look at him in surprise, and he looks surprised too, as though he didn’t mean to say the words out loud. ‘You were good, angel. I’d like it if we c-’ ‘Okay! Okay, you don’t need to finish that sentence,’ I say embarrassedly, not wanting him to say it in front of Hyunjin who fails at stifling his laughter. ‘So why are you here, y/n? You’re best friends with Daehwi’s girlfriend, right? And she’s here. Why are you out here with us?’ Hyunjin asks, and I hesitate, not exactly sure myself. ‘I guess… I wanted to come and complain to Jisung about the fact that he took my virginity for no reason, because I’m not even gonna have sex tonight,’ I say miserably, kicking at the gravel like a sulky little kid. ‘I mean, you could,’ Jisung says with a grin, Hyunjin bursting into laughter as I choke on thin air. ‘I’m kidding.’ ‘No, you’re not,’ Hyunjin chuckles, and Jisung says, ‘you’re right, I’m not.’ ‘Well… thanks for the offer, but I’m not in the mood. I’m too upset,’ I say dramatically.

‘Let me cheer you up then,’ Jisung says, and I side-eye him. ‘I just told you I’m not in the m-’ ‘No, I don’t mean that! Let’s go dance together, or we’ll go somewhere for food if you’re hungry. Let’s get your mind off… Soggy Seonghwa,’ Jisung says with a grin, both Hyunjin and I dissolving into uncontrollable laughter. ‘Soggy Seonghwa?’ I giggle, Jisung nodding. ‘I don’t think he deserves the Sex God title,’ Jisung says, tone all shady and gossipy, Hyunjin and I laughing even more now. ‘Well, whatever. You don’t have to cheer me up, it’s okay. I’ll go find one of the girls and get blackout drunk,’ I say, Jisung frowning. ‘No, no. I don’t have to cheer you up, but I want to cheer you up. I mean…’ he trails off, and Hyunjin raises his eyebrows at Jisung, as though there’s something going on here that I don’t know about. ‘We’re friends, right?’ he asks, and I nod instantly. ‘Of course.’ ‘Well, you must know I see you as more than just a friend, and I think you see me as more than just a friend too. So, yeah. I’m kinda relieved things didn’t work out with Soggy,’ he says, and I’m too shocked to laugh, butterflies exploding in my stomach.

He sees me as more than a friend? ‘Wait, what do you mean?’ I ask, and he laughs. ‘I like you, y/n, and you like me too. You might not know it, but you do. I can tell from the way you feel when I’m around. So let me… woo you,’ he says, making me laugh, and his lips curl up into a small grin. ‘Woo me?’ ‘Mmhmm. Let me dance with you, or take you for food, or take you back to your apartment,’ he smirks, and I roll my eyes. ‘Having sex is not wooing me.’ ‘I never said anything about sex,’ he grins with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘So what would we do?’ ‘I don’t know. Watch a film? Cuddle? Bake? What is it you human girls like to do when you’re dating someone?’ he asks, and I let out a gentle laugh. ‘That stuff sounds about right. But I don’t want to leave yet.’ ‘Okay. Let’s go dance then,’ he says with a grin, jumping up from the bench and pulling me up with him. ‘Hyunjin, you coming?’ Jisung asks, and I’m reminded that the other boy is sat there too. He smiles up at us, eyes shining with happiness, and he shakes his head. ‘You guys go. Have fun. I’m gonna find a cute little human girl. Got any friends, y/n?’ he asks with a mischievous grin, and I laugh. ‘Quite a few. And you’re hot, so you can take your pick,’ I say, Hyunjin jumping up from the bench at that, all of us laughing as we head up to the house. ‘Wait,’ Jisung says when we reach the back door, looking at me with a scowl, ‘did you just call my best friend hot?’

‘He is pretty hot, though. I won’t lie,’ I say to the boy as I step out through the back door, the pretty girl dressed very similarly to me and the two pretty boys on either side of her looking at me. ‘Yeah, I am, right? Can I get you a drink?’ the taller boy asks with a cocky grin, and I roll my eyes. ‘My boyfriend’s getting me one,’ I say, and his grin falls. ‘You just said I’m hot,’ he complains, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m Lucifer’s daughter – I can say what I want,’ I tell him, and his mouth shuts straight away, the girl looking a little scared and the other boy looking amused. ‘Shame you’re in a relationship. You’re pretty hot,’ the taller boy says, and I grin at him. ‘Thanks. She’s hotter, though,’ I say, pointing at the girl who looks like she wants to curl in on herself and disappear. ‘Me?’ ‘Mmhmm. You got that cute little innocent vibe going on. Makes you even hotter.’ ‘Oh. Thanks,’ she says, a little more at ease now after the compliment.

‘She likes him,’ the taller boy says, pointing at the short boy who’s grinning proudly. ‘Share her,’ I say, only half-joking, and the girl coughs out of shock. ‘Share me? I’m not a chocolate bar,’ she says indignantly, and I feel my eyebrows go up in admiration – she’s a feisty one. ‘I like you, angel. You into girls?’ I ask, and the shorter boy’s smile drops. ‘You’ve got a boyfriend.’ ‘What about it? You think Princesses of Hell conform to different sexualities? Or to monogamy?’ I ask, purposely trying to piss him off, and he opens his mouth before closing it. I look at the girl again, waiting for her answer. I’m not actually interested (I mean, I wouldn’t say no) but it’s fun to tease her little boyfriends like this. ‘I’m… open to anything. But I do kinda like him,’ she says, pointing to the shorter boy, and I shrug. ‘Shame. I’m way hotter than him,’ I grin, the boy letting out an indignant noise.

‘I’m getting you a drink, and you’re flirting with someone else?’ I hear Felix’s voice behind me, and I turn my grin to him, my heart jumping at the amused smile on his face, the boy handing me a cup of some fruity flavoured vodka. ‘Ah, you’re the boyfriend? I’d sort her out if I were you – she’s flirting with my girl,’ the shorter boy says, and I roll my eyes. ‘He’s just jealous because he knows I could steal her if I wanted,’ I tease, baiting him, and he scowls at me. ‘Stop trying to steal the demon boy’s girlfriend, please. I’m not in the mood to hold you back from a fight today,’ Felix says, and I look at the shorter boy interestedly. ‘You’re a demon?’ I ask, surprised Felix realised and I didn’t, and he nods. ‘An incubus. So is he,’ he says, pointing at the other boy who gives me a lazy grin, and I look between the three in them with amused interest.

‘This just got way more interesting. A human girl has two incubuses wrapped around her little finger,’ I observe, the taller boy blinking in surprise. ‘I just met her,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘You think she’s hot, though?’ ‘I’m not blind, of course I think she’s hot.’ ‘You got competition, kid,’ I say to the shorter boy, the frown on his face making me hold back a laugh. ‘Anyway, I don’t care about you two. Well done, girl. Bagged yourself… at least one incubus – I don’t know about this guy, but the other one definitely likes you. He’s, like, radiating jealousy right now,’ I tease, enjoying this, and Felix puts an arm around my waist. ‘Okay, that’s enough picking on the human girl and her incubus boyfriends,’ he says softly, the three of them letting out annoyed noises. ‘He’s not her boyfriend!’ ‘He’s not my boyfriend!’ ‘I’m not her boyfriend!’

‘Relax, he’s just kidding,’ I say as Felix begins to pull me towards the living room. ‘You’re a handful,’ he mutters amusedly, and I roll my eyes. ‘It’s fine, Lix, you don’t have to worry about me.’ ‘I don’t. I worry about the poor thing that you piss off to the point where they try to fight you and then you kill them,’ he says tiredly, and I let out a laugh. ‘I wouldn’t kill them. Probably just injure them a little.’ ‘Wow, I’ve really changed you, huh?’ he jokes, and I shove him gently as we reach the farthest corner from the DJ booth, both of us perching on the bay window.

We’re silent for a few moments, just looking at all the partygoers. It’s been quite a few hours now, so people are very drunk. The wolves left a little while ago, ready for their turn, and the vampires are making the most of their absence; they’re all scattered out into the party, biting people (consensually – I think) left, right and centre. The humans here seem at home around us otherworldly beings – in the space of a minute, I notice a human boy making out with a wizard in the corner, a group of human girls and succubuses dancing together in the middle of the room, and a pixie boy on the lap of a human girl, the two of them playing cards with their pixie and human friends. It’s quite nice to see the way everyone mixes together so freely, without worry or judgement, but we all know that nothing like this would happen in any other district. That’s why District 9 is so special.

I look at Felix, the boy deep in thought, and I lean against him, pressing a kiss to his neck. ‘What are you thinking about?’ I ask him against his skin, and I can feel him grin. ‘Whatever you’re thinking about,’ he says, and I groan, making him laugh. ‘That was so cheesy.’ ‘You’re dating an angel, babe. Get used to the cheesy lines.’ ‘I might have to dump you if you use another one.’ ‘If I can deal with you flirting with random human girls and demon boys, and nearly starting a fight with one of them, you can put up with a bad line every now and then,’ he grins, putting a hand on my chin and tilting my head back to press his lips to mine. ‘You’re lucky you’re so cute, because I wouldn’t put up with it from anyone else,’ I grumble when we break apart, and he smiles at me softly.

‘I’m so glad God was fine with it.’ ‘Of course she was! I told you she would be. You just worry too much.’ ‘I know, I know. I can’t believe you spoke to God dressed an angel when you’re literally her biggest betrayer’s daughter.’ ‘Did you just refer to my dad as God’s biggest betrayer?’ I ask with a raised eyebrow, and he winces, making me laugh. ‘Sorry.’ ‘It’s fine. He’s not that good a dad, anyway.’ ‘Oh, God, have you got daddy issues? Would be nice if you’d told me before I started dating you,’ he says, mirth in his eyes, and I shove him gently. ‘You’re so annoying.’ ‘You wouldn’t have me any other way,’ he grins, and I roll my eyes. ‘You’d be boring if you weren’t so annoying.’ ‘Oh, thanks.’ ‘I’m kidding. Kind of. No, I’m joking, I’m joking. I wouldn’t have you any other way,’ I admit when he starts pouting, laughing at the proud grin that stretches across his face.

‘You’re so whipped for me.’ ‘I am not whipped.’ ‘You are.’ ‘Am not.’ ‘It’s okay. I like you whipped. Whipped you is super cute.’ ‘Cute?’ ‘I was gonna say sexy, but I thought that’d make you act up,’ he laughs, and I raise an eyebrow, feeling my eyes glow red and watching the grin from his face slowly slip away. ‘You thought right,’ I reply quietly, hand snaking up his chest to the back of his neck, and he gulps imperceptibly. ‘You think there’s any empty rooms upstairs?’ he asks, hands sliding around my waist, a small smirk on his face. ‘Trust me, I’ll make one empty if I have to,’ I grin and his smile grows as he takes my hands into his, our drinks discarded when he pulls me up from the windowsill. ‘You know,’ he begins, pulling me towards the stairs, ‘I never thought it’d be so sexy to hear you threaten to murder people so we can have sex in an empty bedroom.’

‘I’m so tired of all this romance,’ I wail, throwing myself back against the sofa, and Yuna raises an eyebrow at me, holding back a laugh. ‘Romance?’ ‘She threatened to kill people for him. That’s so romantic.’ ‘She’s a demon, so it’s not a big deal for her.’ ‘Did you just say murder isn’t a big deal?’ I ask, and Yuna is silent for a moment. ‘This party’s changed me,’ she says with horror, making me burst into laughter and momentarily forget about my drunken wallowing. ‘It’s crazy being around all these different… magical people,’ she says quietly, obviously not wanting one of the said magical people around us to hear and take it the wrong way. ‘We’re always around vampires. This isn’t any different, if you think about it,’ I say, reminding myself of vampires and then letting out a dramatic cry, Yuna shaking her head amusedly at me.

‘y/n, just go speak to him if you’re that upset. There’s no point ruining your own Halloween by being all drunk and sad. Just speak to him, get it out of the way, and then you can enjoy yourself!’ she says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m not sure I’ll be able to enjoy myself if he breaks my heart,’ I say dryly, and she thinks for a second before saying, ‘he already did, didn’t he?’ ‘Well… yeah, but-’ ‘So what have you got to lose? Go, speak to him.’ ‘I thought you were calling him an idiot earlier,’ I say pointedly, and she raises an eyebrow. ‘I was before I realised you’d be moping all night and drowning your sorrows in the worst alcohol I’ve ever smelt in my life,’ she spits, making me laugh when she scrunches up her nose, pushing my cup further away from her. ‘It doesn’t smell that bad.’ ‘Tell that to your breath.’ Yuna!’ ‘I’m kidding! But here,’ she says, reaching into her bag and pulling out bubblegum, handing me two pieces. ‘If you’re gonna go speak to Hyunjin, you don’t want to smell like cheap gin,’ she says as I down the rest of my gin and put the bubblegum in my mouth, quickly chewing it down from solid little shells into stretchy elastic gum.

‘Okay, now go. Seriously,’ she prompts, pushing me up from the sofa, and I nod, looking down at myself. ‘How do I look?’ I ask, and she inspects me. ‘Touch up your lipgloss. And take the jacket off – it covers how cute your top is,’ she says, and I do as she says, applying some more lipgloss from the tube that’s in my back pocket before pulling off my jacket, Yuna taking it from me. Now, I’m just in black leather trousers, a black crop top and black heels, looking more like sexy Sandy than pretty pink lady Sandra Dee. ‘Go. And don’t tell the girls you’re going – they’ll stop you and give you all sorts of stupid advice,’ she instructs, and I nod, heading towards the kitchen before I lose my nerve, avoiding the girls dancing in the middle of the room. I take a deep breath when I reach the door before putting my best uninterested face on, pushing the door open and revelling in the way all eyes turn to me. It’s much quieter in here, due to the door separating us from the loud music, and the fact that it’s very late and a lot of people have already left, so I can hear people whispering about how I look.

I ignore the whispering, not bothering to look around yet because I don’t want Hyunjin to catch me looking at him, and just head towards the fridge, pretending to decide what to have before I reach for a small glass bottle of alcoholic pink lemonade. I close the fridge, looking around the room for straws and I spot them, right beside where the vampire boys stand. I head towards them and they all go quiet, obviously expecting me to speak to them, but I don’t bother, just reaching for the packet of black straws and pulling out a clean one. I begin to walk away, hoping my plan will work, and I have to stop myself from punching the air when I hear Jeongin call out, ‘y/n!’ I turn back around slowly, pretending to be surprised when I see them. ‘Oh, hey! I didn’t see you guys there. Where have you been all night?’ I ask, taking a couple steps towards them but still keeping my distance, my eyes staying on Jeongin and not straying to the annoyingly handsome boy beside him. ‘We’ve been around. The question is, where have you been all night? There’s eight of us, and one of you, and none of us have seen you,’ Changbin says with a grin, and I raise an eyebrow, taking a sip from the lemonade. ‘I’ve been around,’ I reply, and his eyebrows go up, an impressed look on his face. ‘Touché,’ he murmurs, a grin spreading across my face at that.

‘I’m gonna head back to the girls in the living r-’ ‘Why in such a rush, y/n? Stay and chat for a bit,’ Felix says with a small smile, eyes cryptic, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘About what?’ ‘You.’ ‘What about me?’ ‘What you’re dressed up as,’ Felix says, and I laugh softly. ‘I was a pink lady, but I got too hot, so I took my jacket off. Is that all?’ I ask, the boys exchanging a glance. ‘No, no, not quite,’ Jisung says, and I roll my eyes. ‘What else then?’ I ask, sounding exasperated to my own ears. ‘I wanna know why you’re so drunk,’ Seungmin says dryly, and I let out a laugh. ‘I’m not that drunk.’ ‘Your eyes aren’t fully focused, the smell of peach gin is literally dripping off you, and you’re chewing on bubblegum to try and cover it up,’ he says pointedly, and I let out a little sigh. ‘Okay, so maybe I’m a bit drunk. What about it?’ ‘You’re usually so responsible, y/n. It’s not like you to get drunk. What’s going on?’ Minho asks, smirk on his face, and then I realise what’s going on. They know what happened, and they know that I’m hurt and that’s why I’m drunk, and they’re basically dangling it in my face.

‘If you must know,’ I begin, all of them practically hanging off my words, ‘I was drowning my sorrows, but now that I’m so drunk I can barely see straight, I feel a lot better. So good, in fact, that I might take the incubus I spoke to a little while ago up on his offer. So, if you’ll excuse me.’ I turn on my heel, heading back towards the living room, and then I hear his voice. ‘y/n, wait,’ he says softly, and I freeze, taking a deep breath before I turn back to face them, the boy shrinking in on himself when he sees my face. This is the first time I’ve looked at him properly, and it breaks my heart how beautiful he looks, his soft dark locks falling over his eyes, tall and lean build dressed in all black, top few buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and trousers skin tight. ‘Yes?’

‘Drowning your sorrows?’ he asks softly, and I want to scream at him, my eyes filling with tears. ‘The embarrassment of leaving me without a word wasn’t enough, and neither was the ghosting me or the telling your friends about what happened so they could interrogate me whilst I’m smashed, so now you have to humiliate me by making me spell out how hurt I am? Is that what’s going on here?’ I demand, voice wavering, and about a million emotions pass across his face, the most prevalent being guilt. ‘No, y/n, that’s not what I-’ ‘I don’t care. Please… just leave me alone like you have been the past few days,’ I spit out, turning back towards the living room, and then I hear sudden movement, feeling a hand grab my arm a few moments later.

I turn around to see him, desperation on his face, and wrench my arm away angrily. ‘y/n, please, let me… explain,’ he pleads, and I hesitate. This is all I wanted, an explanation, and that’s what I came in here for, but now… I don’t know if I can handle the hurt. We stare at each other for a few seconds until I open my mouth, not quite sure what I’m about to say. ‘Fine. Explain,’ I say quietly, relief appearing on his face. ‘Can we go outside?’ he asks, and I nod as I put my drink down on the counter top, letting him lead the way out of the kitchen and out through the back door, everyone whispering behind us.

‘I’m really sorry,’ he says when we’re sat down on a bench, and I let out a humourless laugh, not even looking at him. ‘You can’t be that sorry; you’ve been ignoring me and avoiding me since that night. No reply to my text, no call back, and you didn’t come to the apartment once. So forgive me for not believing you,’ I spit out, and he lets out a little sigh. ‘y/n, I am sorry. And I know I shouldn’t have ghosted you, but I wasn’t sure what I else to do. I should’ve just spoken to you and explained from the start.’ ‘You don’t need to explain. It’s pretty obvious,’ I say bitterly, and I can see him smiling sadly out of the corner of my eye. ‘No, y/n, you don’t understand,’ he says gently, and I meet his eyes as he tells me, ‘I love you.’

I feel my heart stop, my entire body freezing, and it takes a little while to process what he’s telling me. He loves me. ‘So… I heard right. That night, when I was falling asleep, you said it then, didn’t you?’ I ask, and he nods with sad eyes. ‘And it scared me so much that I left.’ ‘But… I love you too,’ I tell him, and he doesn’t react as I expect, just smiling wistfully and nodding. ‘I know you do. You have for a while, and I’ve been lying to both of us by pretending I didn’t know, and pretending I didn’t love you back. But I did, the whole time. I do.’ His words are all I’ve wanted to hear from him, for so long, and yet, he looks so sad, sounds so sad, and it’s breaking me. Why is he acting like there’s something between us that’s stopping this? ‘You love me, and I love you. What else is there to say?’ I ask, and he lets out a mirthless laugh.

‘You’re a human, and I’m a vampire,’ he says simply, as though that explains everything, and I blink at him before saying, ‘what about it?’ His lips curl up into an amused smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘I’m over 300 years old. You’re, like, a fifteenth of that-’ ‘So what? We look the same age anyway.’ ‘We won’t forever. You’ll only get older, and I’ll stay the same. You’ll be 90 dating a 20-year-old.’ ‘That doesn’t matter. We’re in love, Jin. I don’t care what you look like, or what I look like.’ ‘And neither do I. But I won’t even be able to love you in public in a few years’ time, y/n. People will think you’re, like, my sugar mommy or something.’ ‘But I don’t c-’ ‘And, not just that, you’re alive. I’m dead. We can’t have a family, or have children-’ ‘Ugh, I don’t want kids. I never have,’ I say, nose scrunched up in disgust at the thought – all they do is eat, cry and shit. I’d rather not, to be honest – and he lets out a laugh. ‘You might change your mind as you get older.’ ‘Then we’ll adopt.’ ‘y/n…’ ‘I’m being serious! Wouldn’t you prefer to give a kid a better life than they’d have in the care system? Better than me having to carry a baby and my body getting all fucked up because of it.’ ‘And then the kids we adopt will grow to look older than their dad,’ he says pointedly, and my mouth is open, but no words come out. I’ve run out of solutions.

‘It doesn’t matter, Jin,’ I whisper, and he shakes his head sadly. ‘y/n, you’re being silly. You know that it’d never work out. I love you and you love me, but I can’t ask you to give your life to me, when I can’t give mine to you. We can’t grow old together, can’t start a family, can’t love each other in public – these are basic things in a human relationship.’ ‘But we wouldn’t be a human relationship.’ ‘Which is exactly the problem,’ he says softly, and I don’t even know what to say, my eyes full of tears. ‘I’m sorry, y/n. This wasn’t supposed to happen, but you make it too easy for me to love you,’ he whispers, taking my hands into his and my tears spill over onto my face, making him let out a gentle laugh. ‘Don’t cry,’ he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss my tears away, and my eyes flutter shut. I wish I could live in this moment with him forever.

‘Okay, I’ve got a solution,’ I say, mustering up the courage to tell him something that’s been on mind for months now, and he breaks away from me with a raised eyebrow. ‘Living in seclusion so we don’t have to deal with people judging us for the difference in the ages that we look?’ he asks suspiciously, and I laugh. ‘That’s not what I was gonna say, but it’s a good idea,’ I joke, and he rolls his eyes. ‘It is not. What’s your solution?’ he asks, and I take a deep breath before saying, ‘you turn me.’

He doesn’t react, just staring at me for a few seconds before he says, ‘I must be losing my mind because I could swear you just suggested me turning you into a vampire.’ ‘I did.’ ‘y/n, are you fucking crazy?’ he demands, and I sigh. ‘Jin, hear me out-’ ‘No! Are you actually insane? There is no way in fucking hell!’ ‘Why not, Jin? What would I lose? The pale thing is a myth, the burning in the sun thing is a myth, the-’ ‘y/n, are you listening to yourself? That stuff might be myths, but you will have to drink blood to survive! You will watch generations of humans that you love die! You will lose your humanity!’ ‘Jin… I don’t care. The blood thing doesn’t bother me at all. You haven’t lost your humanity, so I don’t think I will either. And… maybe it’ll suck seeing my family die, but my friends… they want the same too, Jin. We’ve all been thinking about it and discussing it, and we all want to turn,’ I admit, his eyes nearly falling out of his head.

‘This isn’t, like, a matching tattoos thing! This is serious!’ ‘We know, Hyunjin, we’re not stupid! We’ve been discussing it for months! But I don’t care if they do or not – I want to anyway. I want to be with you… forever,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘No. I won’t turn you, and I won’t let anyone else do it either. It’s not happening.’ ‘Hyunjin, please. This isn’t a spur of the moment thing. I promise I’ve thought it through. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of time with you. I was just waiting to see if you felt the same way before I mentioned it to you. It doesn’t have to happen straight away, obviously, but I just want you to consider it,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘You don’t understand. My selfish side wants it more than anything – you think I don’t want to spend the rest of time with you? But my responsible side can’t let you give up human life for me.’ ‘Why? It’s what we both want. We’ll be happy, Jin, so happy, forever. I don’t expect you to agree to it, but promise me you’ll at least think about it, and we’ll discuss it regularly,’ I say, and he doesn’t say anything, looking down at his hands. ‘Please, Jin,’ I plead, and he sighs deeply before his eyes meet mine, my heart stopping like it does every time he looks at me.

‘I’ll think about it. That’s all,’ he says over my loud shout of celebration, an amused smile curling up his lips as I throw my arms around his shoulders, his hands coming around my waist to hold me against him. I tilt my head back to press my lips to his, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his kiss – it’s only been a few days, and it feels like a lifetime. He grins against my mouth and we break away after a few seconds, his lips coming to my forehead. ‘I love you,’ he murmurs against my skin, and I feel like I’ve never been happier when I reply, ‘I love you too.’

We stand up from the bench after a little while, holding hands as we head back up to the house. ‘You wanna dance?’ he asks, and I can’t say yes quickly enough, my eagerness making him chuckle. ‘Oh, the girls are gonna kill me.’ ‘Why?’ he asks, and I hesitate before replying, ‘maybe because they all hate you for ghosting me, and we’ve been cussing you nonstop since you left.’ His mouth drops, fear in his eyes, and I wave it off. ‘Don’t worry, it’ll be fine when I explain. But they didn’t even know I was coming to speak to you.’ ‘Well, neither did you. You came to get a drink,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘You’re 300 years old and you still don’t know about girls, do you? I came to get a drink because I knew you’d speak to me, stupid,’ I say as though it’s obvious, and his eyes widen. ‘You’re so sly.’ ‘Oh, whatever. You should be glad. If I hadn’t set it up, we wouldn’t be…’ I trail off, not actually sure what we are, and a small smirk spreads across his lips.

‘Wouldn’t be what?’ ‘I don’t know. What… are we?’ I ask, and he laughs. ‘Will you be my girlfriend?’ he asks amusedly, as though he thinks it’s silly, and I know he’s only asking for my benefit. ‘Yes,’ I grin, preening at the question, and he rolls his eyes. ‘So we’re boyfriend and girlfriend, I suppose,’ he laughs, and I laugh along with him, half finding it ridiculous that after confessing that I want to be a vampire so I can spend the rest of my life with him, our relationship is reduced down to boyfriend and girlfriend, and half ecstatic that I can officially call Hwang Hyunjin my boyfriend.

‘Do you know how exciting this is?’ I ask, and he chuckles, raising an eyebrow. ‘We’ve practically been dating for months already anyway.’ ‘I know, but it’s official. Now I can tell people you’re my boyfriend instead of saying you’re my hot friend,’ I explain, and he looks at me in confusion. ‘Who have you been saying that to?’ ‘On nights out, when girls would ask if you’re my boyfriend. I’d say no, you’re my hot friend, and they’d ask if you were single.’

‘And what would you tell them?’ he asks suspiciously, and I bite my lip. ‘No. Obviously. Why would I want all these pretty girls trying to get with you?’ ‘You’re the only pretty girl I’d ever want, y/n,’ he murmurs, making my heart skip a beat, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m being serious! Look how hot you are in your… costume,’ he says amusedly, eyes travelling up and down my body, and I roll my eyes. ‘I promise you, I was wearing my Pink Ladies jacket a little while ago,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow, taking his own jacket off and putting it over my shoulders. ‘That’s better. I don’t like people looking at what’s mine,’ he says lightly, only half-joking, and I feel my stomach fill with butterflies. ‘Now,’ he says sternly, face serious but eyes shining with amusement, ‘what did you say about an offer from an incubus?’

5 YEARS LATER

Chan and y/n are married and living together in the house next door to the pack house, raising three little werewolf pups. y/n still works night shifts at the diner because she’ll miss it too much if she leaves, and she’s the only one who knows the wolves’ after-turning orders off by heart. She has it ready for them when they arrive, and she feels herself falling in love with him all over again each time he walks in, the same way she did the first time he walked in with his sandy hair and his bright sparkling eyes.

Minho and y/n are in a long-distance relationship – she’s in District 9 and he’s in the 2nd Circle of Hell. He stays at her apartment a couple nights a week, and he takes her for date night every Saturday. Ryujin and Chaeryeong are also seeing a couple of Minho’s friends – y/n’s friends and his friends make quite the dysfunctional group. y/n found a ring in his jacket a little while ago and has been waiting for him to propose, waiting eagerly until she can say yes. She hasn’t come up with a solution to the problem of him not aging when she does, but that can come later, because their love is all that matters to her right now.

Changbin and y/n are happily ruling together in the 5th Circle, doing whatever they can to turn demon hunters back to their original state. They have had a child together and y/n is pregnant again – Minho and his girlfriend pay regular visits because of how much the human girl adores their child. They are old, so old, but y/n feels like a little girl when she’s with Changbin – their love keeps them young and happy, and will do so for the rest of time.

Hyunjin and y/n still live in their apartment, now as an engaged vampire couple. They’ve been engaged for a couple years now and still haven’t started wedding planning yet – they have all of eternity to do that. Lia and Yeji have both turned, and Yuna, Ryujin and Chaeryeong plan to do so too, in the next year or so. y/n’s family knows what she and Hyunjin are, and they have since gotten over their initial despair about the fact that their baby girl will stay this way for the rest of time, and the couple are always welcome at family events. The two have discovered that vampire blood tastes so much better than human blood, and has better effects than human blood too. y/n is still Hyunjin’s little blood bag, but she has a particular fondness for the name now.

Jisung and y/n have their own apartment together in District 9, and they are very much in love. At the beginning, y/n found it difficult that Jisung has sex with people for a living, and so they began… training y/n, building up her stamina and tolerance in a sexual sense, and now she can satiate Jisung alone. Even if she couldn’t, Jisung still wouldn’t have sex with anybody else – she’s the only one he ever wants. y/n and Seonghwa are good friends now, and Jisung and y/n regularly meet up with Seonghwa and his husband (Jisung found it hilarious when they got news of Seonghwa being closeted all that time – he claimed that it made perfect sense because no straight human boys are good enough at sex to get the title of Sex God). y/n still gets a little upset that Jisung can’t get her pregnant, but she’s come to terms with it and the couple have now started to look into adoption.

Felix and y/n have bought a house together on Earth, their common ground, and are engaged – y/n found it slightly ridiculous when Felix proposed to her, considering they’re otherworldly beings that don’t really conform to humans’ customs like marriage, but she still said yes in a heartbeat. Lucifer and God both regularly reach out to the couple, asking them to visit, and have even showed up at their house a few times (it was more than awkward when they both visited at the same time). Felix and y/n stayed a few weeks in the 5th circle with Satan’s daughter and her love, and their child took a particular liking to Felix. After seeing him with the child, y/n suggested they have children of their own, and they have begun trying to get pregnant.

Seungmin and y/n are living together in District 9, the two of them slowly aging together as a happy married couple. y/n redecorated Room 13 at the surgery for Seungmin, and she much prefers it now, spending a lot of her time there with him, training to become a magical nurse. Seungmin’s mum was over the moon when y/n started making appearances at family events again, and she played the part of the enthusiastic mother-in-law perfectly at their wedding a year ago. y/n is still trying her best to be a nicer person, and she is mainly succeeding. She slips up every now and then, but Seungmin is always at her side to pull her up on it.

Jeongin and y/n lived together at 325 Sunshine Street for a little over three years before Jeongin sat y/n down to tell her that he wouldn’t be a ghost for much longer, and would be passing over to the afterlife soon, as he had discovered that his unfinished business was the house. He’d found someone worthy of living in the house, and they’d truly made it a home – where he and his friends had made it fit to live in, a house in only a home once it’s full of light, love and life. And once y/n had brought that, his business on earth was finished. She held back her sadness over the last few weeks of his time with her, and threw a farewell party with all of his friends. She felt her heart break when she awoke one morning to find that the other side of the bed was empty, and he was gone forever. Jeongin’s friends drop in nearly every day to check on y/n, and she’s doing much better than she was when he first left. She still misses him, more and more every day, but she’ll be okay, because she knows that even if she can’t see him, he’s always with her, no matter what.

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victorromeofox-blog · 3 years

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VRF Website and Community

VRF Website and Community - Soft Opening Coming Soon!

I've been a little less active here in the last little bit, but have been working behind the scenes to build up the VRF website and planning around community-building. I'm just about ready to start opening the site to semi-public access and start inviting trusted people to the Discord within the next week! There is some information below introducing some of the content and features of the site and Discord server. Please contact me (Ask or email preferred) if you would like access - I recommend reading the rest of this post before you do, but it is not required.

If you’re looking to better understand BDSM and kink, participate in a community of rational, respectful, and conscientious kink practitioners, and contribute to protecting, uplifting, and helping others - while still enjoying some fantasies - you are exactly the type of person who would be a great fit for this space.

If you’re “just here for the porn”, this website and community are not going to be what you’re looking for. They are specifically a pushback against that very mentality, and the rampant toxicity and problematic discourse in the online BDSM/kink space, especially CNC kink, and your needs will be better met elsewhere. Same goes for those who are just out to get nudes, roleplay online, organize hookups, or find a submissive - there are other spaces geared toward that.

In the meantime, I'd like to explain what this all means to me, where VRF is headed next, and what factors I'm taking into consideration as I continue. This is going to be a fairly reflective post - almost like a letter of intent - but I'm putting it out there primarily for transparency and also for those of you who want some insight into my thoughts and process.

VRF - A Quick Recap

When I started VRF in 2015, I didn't really have a goal. I was just looking to curate the kinds of porn I enjoyed the most on Tumblr and occasionally added some captions that came to mind as I did - and accidentally cultivated a sizeable following. As the blog grew and began to have more interactions with others on the network, I realized that I couldn't stay in-persona all the time - not without sending a potentially dangerous message - so I started answering asks and giving advice out of character, as myself. These "real" interactions, as well as the reality checks that kept rolling in, set the tone for what VRF would become - and made me feel much more comfortable with running a blog featuring questionable content.

I stepped away from the blog and went on hiatus in 2016; I saw a sharp rise in hateful, bigoted, and violent voices online and no longer felt comfortable that my posts would remain firmly in the realm of fantasy for the majority of readers. Although the original @violent-rape-fantasies was terminated in 2019, I made a fairly complete backup of the entire blog before it went down. I returned in late 2020 to start again from scratch, try to rebuild my following, and reconnect with the community - that effort was terminated by Tumblr in 2021, leading me to the two blogs I currently have (@VictorRomeoFox-blog / @violent-rape-fantasies-2) and to create a self-hosted website containing the original VRF archives with major quality-of-life improvements to the Tumblr experience.

This process made me consider what my goals are for VRF, how I want to achieve them, and what promises I make to the community as part of that journey.

VRF - Mission and Values

VRF's mission is to be a safe, inclusive, and collaborative space that promotes affirmative consent, healthy relationships, and conscientious kink, where consenting adults can explore their kinks, enjoy fictional fantasies, and uplift one another without overbearing guilt or shame.

Let me quickly break some of this down:

safe: I want people to feel comfortable consuming and interacting with me and my content - not only the kinks and acts depicted in the fantasies, but in the entirety of the space that VRF projects, including knowing that their personhood, privacy, anonymity, and emotional safety are important to me.

inclusive: although I focus primarily on male-on-female scenarios, people from all walks of life are welcome so long as they are good citizens of the community and conscientious kink practitioners. This also means rejecting hate, bigotry, and willful ignorance.

collaborative: VRF is discursive, both in-persona and out-of-character; the content and direction I take is often influenced by the conversations I have with followers, the asks and submissions I receive, and the state of the community as I see it. I want to always be in conversation with the community to understand its needs and goals so that I can better meet them.

affirmative consent: as discussed in a previous post, I highlight affirmative consent because it centers around positive action as opposed to consent, which can be a passive state. I believe this is critical for conscientious kink.

healthy relationships: the relationships we hold shape who we are, who we become, and how we interact with the world around us. I believe that healthy relationships build healthier, happier lives - this concerns all relationships, from friendships to families to romantic or sexual partnerships. I have seen less emphasis in this community on relationships, and interpersonal interactions in general, and think that this is a major oversight.

conscientious kink: kink can be dangerous or harmful when not practiced with care and consideration - not just for physical health, but for mental, emotional, and spiritual well-being. It requires reflection, introspection, and communication in order to form intentionality - the understanding behind what you do, how you do it, and why you do it.

reducing guilt: this is one of the concerns I get most often from followers - how to reconcile their guilt for enjoying consensual non-consent, and whether it is morally wrong or an indication that something is wrong with them. I believe that CNC, like most kinks, can be practiced in a conscientious way to reduce and mitigate the potential dangers, but that it requires consistent effort, education, and research.

Aside from these, I identified values which are important for me to maintain in order to meet the mission. Some of them are:

transparency: I try to be as transparent as I can, while maintaining my privacy and anonymity, so that people know that I have nothing to hide. I cannot build a safe space without building trust, and I can’t build trust without being honest and transparent.

leadership by example: if I am positioning myself as a resource and giving advice to others, I must embody the values I put forward and lead by example, not by words; otherwise, what I say is worthless and lacks substance.

data- and research-driven: I want to provide people with a deeper understanding of themselves and their kinks; while anecdotal information can at times be helpful, I want the things I posit to have weight and justification behind them. This means an intersection of data, research, and analysis around all of the factors involved, including moral philosophy, psychology, sociology, and biology.

care and patience: these kinks are difficult and hurtful to some people, and confusing or conflicting to others. I need to be caring, considerate, and patient in order for people to feel comfortable engaging with my content and interacting with me.

contextualized: these kinks and fantasies don’t exist in a vacuum and must be contextualized in order to remain conscientious of the relationship it maintains to the real world. This means that I don’t want fantasies misrepresented as reality or reality misconstrued as fantasy, and the onus is on me to ensure that followers are seeing both sides of the equation.

quality over quantity: I have a limited amount of time that I can dedicate to VRF work, and want to make the best possible use of that time. I want to focus on high-quality content, both in-persona fantasies and out-of-character advice, research, and resources, without worrying about how much or how frequently I’m posting. It also means that I care far less about the number of followers and viewers I have, and much more about whether I am cultivating the kind of followers that match my vision for VRF and its community.

There are other factors and values as well, but these are the biggest ones for me. They drive how I present myself, how I interact with the community, and what kinds of content I put forth.

VRF Website - Content and Features

What does the website allow me to do that I couldn’t on Tumblr?

No censorship, frustrating filters, or threat of termination - I can focus on my content without running into blockers at every turn, or worrying that I’m going to lose all my work without warning.

Better content controls, organization, and layout - I can group posts logically and have different ways for users to access and view them instead of being one monolithic stream of posts.

Tagging and search - I’ve tagged my archive with kinks, features, toys, actions, positions, locations, and more to make it easier to both find content that you want to see and avoid content that you don’t. The VRF site features granular search controls, including tag combinations, so you can engage with the site how you choose.

Random Post/Random Caption - sometimes, you’re in the mood to mix things up. Instead of seeing a temporally-sorted feed of posts, you can go to a random post or caption from the menu bar.

Clear disclaimers and view control - instead of my content being blended into a sea of posts, which creates difficulty in carving out that safe cognitive space for engaging with these kinks or necessitates rapid context-switching, all of my posts will be in one central repository with clear disclaimers where I have control over how things are viewed.

The VRF Archive - the content from the original @violent-rape-fantasies blog have been restored to the VRF website.

There are some downsides, of course - like the lack of network discovery, limited server space and resources, cost, maintenance, and effort. But the benefits greatly outweigh the additional overhead.

VRF Community

What’s the VRF Discord community all about?

This is a new idea I’m playing with - I’m not new to Discord or community management, but combining that with VRF is a new endeavor for me. Since I’m going to be shifting my focus from Tumblr to the VRF website, some of those network and community interactions from Tumblr will move to Discord instead, such as interacting with followers, taking requests, feedback, and suggestions, and delving deeper into kink philosophy, fantasy, and practice.

I’ve set up the Discord in a way that different sections can be partitioned - like general discussion, BDSM/kink discussion, CNC fantasies, member content (submissions), and so on. The different sections are accessible to different levels of membership and verification to maintain that safe, inclusive, and collaborative space. For example, agreeing to the rules and guidelines gives you access to the general discussion section; verifying your age gives you access to BDSM- and kink-related sections; and being an active and trusted member who contributes to the server over time gets you access to the private sections.

This will also be a much easier way to get in contact with me, and keep the majority of my interactions with the community in one place, instead of hunting across Tumblr messenger for both my accounts, Asks, Twitter, Discord DMs, Telegram, Kik, and email.

VRF - Next Steps and Future Work

In the next few weeks, the VRF website and Discord community will soft-open and move toward general opening. This is a new direction for me, but after assessing my priorities and goals, it is the solution best suited for what I want to achieve. I will continue to use Tumblr, but will likely be focusing the majority of my time on the website and Discord.

The mission and values I’ve identified leave quite a bit of room to explore various ways to express these kinks and share knowledge. I’m not hard-set on VRF being a blog with porn and captions, and could see changes or pivots in the future. I would love for this work to be able to generate some modest revenue in the future in order to cover basic operating costs, support survivors of abuse as well as kink education and safety, and commission custom content. As an aside, if you read all of this, please start your request for access with the word “potato” in all caps to let me know you got this far.

I also want to move toward a more ethical and sustainable model of captions and fantasies. My first step toward this is in creating gifs myself and fully crediting the source, which I started doing when I returned from hiatus. Concurrently, I am working with my partner, who is an artist, to develop illustrations and animations to accompany captions instead of commercial pornography - we’re still in the R&D phase for this, but hope to share some early content soon (including a fantasy and sketch that we’re working on to accompany a follower submission). Ideally, we would be able to collaborate with submitters and sex workers to create fully original, credited, and compensated content - but that’s a huge stretch goal for the future.

We are also considering other formats for fantasy and knowledge delivery, including a visual novel format or interactive media (i.e., games) if the art development turns out well and proves sustainable. We’re both fairly busy people in our personal and professional lives, and in situations where we have to maintain a fairly strict separation between kink involvement and our everyday lives, so carving out time for VRF work is challenging at times!

I look forward to seeing folks on the VRF website and Discord community soon!

#vrf #blog #website #community #about

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starrynite7114 · 4 years

Text

Misconstrued: Part 4

A/N: Hello my lovelies! This one was hard to write, I just want to give a shout out to my twin, @justahopelessssromantic, she really coached me through this last update. I just want to apologize in advance, please don’t hate me. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy this update!

Also, thank you again for the response I’ve been getting for this story. I enjoy reading all of your comments!

Anon: I don't know if this is too specific but could you do something about Angel ruining a date and later admits it because he loves them and then they have some angry smut and late night fluff

Word Count: 5106

Warnings: Angst, Smut.

Previous parts

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3

Masterlist

Tag List: @iambabyharry : @justahopelessssromantic : @carlaangel86 : @marvelmaree : @mrsamaroevans : @ifoundmyhappythought: @woahitslucyylu : @cind-in-real-life : @briannab1234 : @fairygardenss : @gemini0410 : @everyhowlmarksthedead : @losolvidad0s : @whyisgmora : @comasi-world : @xserenax-13 : @chibsytelford : @welovethesponge : @claytoncardenasbabymama : @jadert15 : @bigcreatorwombatdreamer : @trulysuccubus : @pananegra : @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know! If I forgot to add you, I’m so sorry!

Angel twirled you around using the hand that was holding yours. He pulled you against him, wrapping a shoulder around you as you giggled. He kissed your cheek, enjoying the time he had off to be with you. You two were walking towards the movie theater with Coco and Gilly trailing behind. This was going to be your date, but you invited Gilly and Coco to come along, knowing they needed a break from whatever the heck your tio was having them do.

“I really wanted us to be alone.” Angel murmured into your ear before he placed another kiss on your head.

Angel was very affectionate and you were trying to be as affectionate as him. This was brand new for you. The one boyfriend you had was during your sophomore year of college and it didn’t really feel much of a relationship. You were almost certain that he befriended you since you were breezing through chemistry. After all, your relationship lasted about as long as your chemistry series for university did, but you were never bitter since you were still into Diego at that point.

“Be nice, they perked up when you said we were going to the movies.” You playfully elbowed Angel and he chuckled.

“You’re such a saint baby.” He shook his head.

You got the tickets for Captain Marvel, a movie you’ve been wanting to watch. The boys were Marvel fanatics so it didn’t take much to coerce them to see the movie. Angel grabbed snacks for you and him. Gilly and Coco jeered him, asking him what about them, which made the two of you laugh.

“I already let you go on my date, you two should be buying our food.” Angel flipped them off.

“You’re right,” Gilly nodded, he looked over at you. “Y/N, what would you like since you’re the one who invited us.”

You laughed as Angel rolled his eyes. “I’m good Gilly, Angel got all my favorites.”

“No he didn’t, he didn’t get your KitKat bar.” Coco pointed out before turning to the cashier to order it for you.

“You didn’t want chocolate baby.” Angel pouted, not liking the fact that he forgot something you liked.

“I didn’t, just let them have it.”

The four of you made your way to your seats, with Angel and Gilly on either side of you. You loved going to the movies. You always enjoyed it and the seats were so comfortable as of late. Angel placed your food on the table that was attached to your seat. You got fish and chips while Angel got popcorn. Unlike you, Gilly, Coco and Angel already had dinner. You met them at the scrapyard after your shift and they just finished eating.

“So, what are we doing after this?” Angel questioned you as he took a fry.

“I don’t work tomorrow, so I don’t really care what we do.” You shrugged. “Anything in particular you want to do?”

“Want to watch the sunrise?” Angel knew how much you love nature. You always spoke to him about the Big Sur and Yosemite, how you had all these hiking trails you wanted to take him up north.

“Are we taking Gilly and Coco?”

“Fuck no.”

You got off Angel’s bike, shoving your hands in the pockets of your hoodie. Angel wrapped his arm around you as you two made your way down to the sand. It was 5:20 and you two had twenty minutes to spare before the sun would rise. The skies were becoming lighter and you just enjoyed the breeze as it blew through you and Angel.

You two sat down on the little edge that separated the sidewalk and the sand. Angel intertwined your hands, resting it on your lap. It was quiet, with a few people doing their morning workout, but otherwise, the beach was empty.

After the movie, you two said your goodbyes to Gilly and Coco. You two went home for a few hours to take a mini nap before getting up to make your way to Oceanside, California, which was half and an hour drive. You love riding with Angel, feeling the wind against your face, how freeing it felt.

“Has Diego reached out to you?” Angel noticed that you never mentioned Diego after two nights ago when he had confessed his feelings for you. He’s encountered Diego a few times and he could feel the glare that he threw his way every time they would run into each other. Angel was an asshole, but the satisfaction of that reaction from Diego, it was priceless.

He fucking won.

Diego could go fuck himself.

“Yes, but I just ignore his messages.” You shrugged. “Has he approached you?”

“Fuck no, he knows better.” Angel knew that Diego would stay away. He was reaching his tipping point and if Diego even approached you one more time, he would sing to Bishop. The smugness that Diego had would be wiped out. Angel doesn’t think that Bishop would strip him of his patches, but he knew he would receive some repercussions for his actions.

“Can I be honest?”

“Of course querida, you can always be honest with me.”

“I’m not going to lie to you and say it didn’t stir something in me when Diego confessed to me.” Angel gazed at the ocean then, not wanting you to see the hurt in his eyes. “But, it wasn’t the same. I didn’t feel the way I thought I would feel.”

“And why is that?”

“Because of you, all I could think of was you. I wanted you to be there so you could tell him to go away. Diego was my best friend, but after everything that happened, everything with us, I no longer see him in that way. I want to be with you, no one else, just you.” You confessed, which surprised you. Feelings were always difficult for you, it was the reason you were never actually able to tell Diego that you liked him. But with Angel, he always made you feel at ease. You could share everything with him. Though, it took you some time to actually tell him how you felt and it took him meddling, you were glad he did.

It showed you what was missing between you and Diego all those years ago.

You were naive to think that Diego had feelings for you, yet, he never confessed to you. But Angel, he did it, he told you that he loves you and when he did, it was something else.

“When you told me that you love me, it was different. I can’t explain it, but it was the best thing I’ve ever heard. I always thought my crush on you was one sided, then you kept charming your way in my life and I fell in love with you.”

Angel grinned, squeezing your hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing the back of your hand. “And I meant it, I truly love you. Nothing is going to come between us, especially not Diego.” He couldn’t breathe without you. He tried to put distance between you two at the beginning, but he knew it was futile. It really fucking was, it was a sad attempt on trying to keep his feelings at bay. He was moody, which Coco and Gilly gladly always pointed out to him.

You and Angel watched as the sun rose, illuminating the skies and the water. Just being in the mere presence of one another was enough for you both. You two love one another and it may have been too soon to say it, but neither of you cared. This was building ever since Angel introduced himself to you. And after a year or so, you two were finally together.

And Angel had no plans of letting you go.

This was it for him.

================

Diego took his phone out as he sat on the picnic table, enjoying his break from the scrapyard. He was getting used to life in Santo Padre. Maybe the city truly did grow on you or maybe it was the fact you were around. Regardless, Diego was contemplating on transferring down, to be closer to you. Regardless of what happened a few nights ago, he knew he could make improvement with you, all he had to do was take Angel out of the picture for just a few days.

Nothing sadistic or malicious, but he was certain he could convince Bishop to send Angel up north for a few days.

He smirked at that thought, taking a drag out of his cigarette and exhaling it out of his nose and mouth. It became an obsession for him at this point. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint when it became an obsession, but after he broke up with Regina, contrary to popular beliefs, he left her not the other way around, he was set on getting you back.

He missed the way you felt in his arms whenever you would accidentally fall asleep while watching one of your lame movies you love seeing. He missed the way he would come over to your apartment, a home cooked meal waiting for him. He missed hearing your snort whenever you would laugh so hard at his corny jokes. He missed being able to run to you whenever club shit got too heavy for him.

He just fucking missed you.

And the fact that Angel was getting in the way, it didn’t sit well with him.

Diego could admit that he was an asshole, but he would do anything to get you back.

Even if it meant bringing Coco and Gilly down with Angel.

He heard steps against the gravel and looked up to find Coco making his way over to him. The smirk on his face became smug, knowing exactly why Coco Cruz was making his way over to him.

“Can we talk pretty boy?” Coco was fuming. The last thing he needed to worry about was Diego, but after last night, Diego was a thorn on his, Gilly and especially Angel’s side. With Angel being MIA for some reason, here he was dealing with Diego. He seemed harmless at first, but Coco should never count out a man who wanted a woman. From what he heard from Medina and other members, Diego was cunning, manipulative, a good fighter, and even better with a gun. Diego was a natural athlete, fighting, running, things came easy for him. But Coco wasn’t impressed easily, especially since he’s been through hell and back.

“About?” Diego sat up straight, the smugness was exuding from him.

“Don’t be a pendejo, you know what I want to talk about.” Coco glared at him, wanting to smack the smug look on his face.

“About how you’re helping the rebels?” Diego took another puff of his cigarette before he threw it to the ground. “Or about how you three are betraying the club?” Diego shrugged. “Whatever do you mean Coco?”

“Listen, this is bigger than any petty shit you have between you and Angel. This is for the longevity of the club.” Coco knew he didn’t have to explain shit to Diego, but with how he followed them last night, finding out they worked with the rebels while they were on the other side, it looked terrible. Especially with Adelita taking Galindo’s kid, the MC looking for Los Olvidados, it wasn’t didn’t look good.

“But this isn’t about me and Angel. It’s about the fact you three along with the prospect is betraying the club.” Diego stood up, looking around to make sure they didn’t have an audience. “I’m easy to talk to, I’ll keep my mouth shut.” And he could keep secrets, for the right price.

“And in return?”

“Angel breaks up with Y/N, and she comes back to Stockton with me.”

Coco chuckled. “This is your game plan, why am I not surprised?” Coco should have known this was what would appease Diego. He would hate to ask Angel to give you up, but they didn’t have a choice. They’re intentions were noble, but the club may not feel that way, at least not right now. “Angel would never let her go.”

“Then I guess Prez finds out.” Diego shrugged.

“Don’t act innocent. We all know what you did to get where you’re at.” Coco spat out venomously.

“Yeah, but I didn’t betray the club, did I?”

“But you betrayed her.”

Coco was trying to restrain himself. He heard the motorcycles then, knowing that they would have company soon. Diego was so lucky that they weren’t alone cause if they were, then it would be a done deal.

He looked back and it was EZ. He quickly made his way off his bike and called Coco over. Diego’s eyes followed them, but he stayed away.

He made his demand.

It was only a matter of time.

================

Angel was relieved that Adelita saved him along with EZ and Coco. Their partnership was going strong, but today was a too fucking close call. When he was in captivity, all he could think about was you, and how he may not be able to see you anymore. He couldn’t bear that thought, it was so painful for him.

When they arrived at the clubhouse, he felt at ease knowing you would be there, that he would be wrapping his arms around you soon. After cracking that joke on Coco, he made his way towards the clubhouse, but Coco pulled him aside.

“I spoke to Diego.” They took a seat at the picnic table since it was empty. They didn’t need an audience.

Angel’s blood boiled hearing Diego’s name. That motherfucker was definitely trying him. It took Gilly, EZ and Coco to hold him back from hurting Diego. He couldn’t believe this motherfucker followed them at Santo Madre, watching Galindo’s work with the ice cream man and his son. Their eyes connected through the crowd, the smug look on his face said it fucking all.

He got them and he wouldn’t hesitate to throw him under the bus.

“And?” Angel lit a cigarette, offering one to Coco which he took.

“He wants you to give up on her.”

Angel scoffed. Over his dead fucking body he was giving you up.

“I get it hermano, but you have to be smart about this.” Angel didn’t have to say anything, his face answered all of Coco’s questions. But this was why Coco was there, to be the reasonable one between them. “The progress we made, it would burn to the ground if we don’t do what he requests. She won’t fall for his bullshit, talk to her. She’s it, right?”

“What?” Angel stared at Coco, not surprised to hear what he was saying. He sympathized, he understood what Coco was saying, but your relationship was so fresh. He couldn’t possibly walk away now, you wouldn’t understand. But he remembered that the club was something you’ve known since you were young, maybe you would understand.

Then the thought dawned on him, Coco’s last words sinking in.

You were it for him, he didn’t see a future with anyone else but you. It was the reason he waited as long as he did, he wasn’t ready to make you his a few months ago with EZ coming out. He needed to reestablish his brother. But now, things were different. Angel was more than ready to be with you, but then Diego came and was just hell bent to ruin your relationship, a relationship that has yet to get off the ground.

Now, he had to give you up.

“She’s the one, I know, but you have to make this small sacrifice right now, if you don’t let her go, he tells Bishop. You’re no good to her six feet under.” Coco always had such a way of putting things in perspective for him.

“Fuck,” Angel breathed out. “I can’t, if I give up on her now, Diego will sink his claws back into her.”

“That’s why I’m telling you to be honest with her. It’s risky, but I know she’ll be loyal to you, she’ll understand why we’re doing what we’re doing.” Coco threw his cigarette butt, stepping on it to put it out. “She’ll wait for you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, you’re it for her too. If you just saw the way she looked at you, you’d understand.” Coco left Angel to decide. He said his piece and if Angel decided to stay with you, they would cross the bridge then.

Angel sat there for a moment, thinking about Coco’s words. He knew he was right, it was what pained him. This was unfortunately bigger than him, he had to put personal feelings aside and let you go so that he could assure that the MC would get rid of the cartel. He sighed, throwing his cigarette on the ground. He would talk to you, he wasn’t going to let you slip from his fingers. Coco was right, you would understand, two would make it work.

Making his way inside the clubhouse, the sight that greeted him was highly ideal. You and Diego were sitting side by side, looking at his phone for some unknown reason. You laughed, snorting as you did, shaking your head at Diego. Angel cussed under his breath as he made his way over to you.

"Enjoying yourself?" Angel joined your conversation, immediately catching your attention.

"Angel, hey," you got up to greet him with his arm immediately wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you in for a kiss.

"Thanks for keeping my girl company, Diegito." The way he said Diego's nickname, it was almost a mocking tone and Diego's jaw clenched, giving him a tight smile.

Angel led you away and you could just feel how tense he was. He brought you outside and let you go then, taking your hand and leading you to the picnic tables that were currently empty.

"You two look cozy." Angel commented, making you frown.

"Angel, come on, you know our history."

"That's the problem, I do. I trust you baby, but you're not stupid, you know why he's here."

"Yeah, but I'm not going to fall for it again." You reassured him, cupping his face, and pressing your lips against his. “I love you, remember? He’s nothing to me anymore.”

“I know mi amor, it just doesn’t sit well with me knowing he’s actively trying to win you over.” Angel felt his heart clench knowing what he had to do. He didn’t have to do it right away. One last day with her was all he wanted before he made this sacrifice. This was bigger than him, Coco was right.

It just sucked that you had to suffer because of it.

“Well he isn’t succeeding. I’m just being nice, but if you want me to stop talking to him, that’s fine with me as well.” You didn’t want Diego’s presence to ruin your relationship with Angel. After what occurred a few days ago, with Diego confessing to you, you wanted to steer clear from him with everything considered. It was mostly out of respect for your relationship with Angel. Talking to someone who you were in love with wouldn’t sit well with Angel and you know it didn’t.

“I’m not trying to control you, I just don’t want him to sweet talk you.” Angel had his hands resting on your hips while yours rested on his shoulder.

“Angel, if his confession didn’t move me, what could possibly sway me his way?”

It was true, Angel knew that and this was breaking his heart. To actually hand you over to some asshole he despised just to assure him, Coco, and Gilly’s survival, it pained him, but like Coco said, it was a small sacrifice.

But he was hoping once he explained everything to you, you would understand.

Angel’s phone vibrated and it was an unregistered number on his phone.

It was a picture of him with Adelita, walking side by side. Another message was a video with himself, Adelita, and Coco.

‘It would be a shame if this was sent to Prez and El Padrino.’

The fury on Angel’s face was unmistakable. Your eyebrows furrowed looking at his features. Softly, you squeezed his should, his attention drifting away from his cellphone and back to you.

“Are you okay?” You questioned.

“Yeah amor, I’m good.” He gave you a smile, but you could tell it wasn’t genuine. It was tight and it didn’t reach his eyes.

But you let it go, nodding your head.

“You ready to get out of here?”

“Damn baby, I gave you the dick once and you’re insatiable.”

You rolled your eyes, smacking him playfully on his chest. “Fuck you.”

“That’s the plan.”

You sighed as Angel kept your legs spread out for him, spelling the alphabet on your pussy. Every time you came, he restarted back to A and this was the third time he was restarting.

“Angel, baby, please, I can’t take anymore.” You were trying to push his head away, but it was to no avail. You literally had no strength.

Angel kisses your inner thigh, stopping at the letter ‘S’. He smirked, proud of how wet he made you, how you were putting in his hand.

“Come on baby, gotta learn self control.” He teased you.

Angel loved that you were inexperienced. It was to his advantage since he could teach you all these things, give you all your firsts. Diego was still in his mind, the weight of the decision on his shoulders, but he wanted to spend one more night with you before things changed. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take the heartbreak in your eyes, it would crush him.

But he would make it up to you, he really would.

“I have self control, but this is ridiculous.” You tried to close your legs, but Angel moved to kneel in between them.

“You ready?” Angel knew you were ready, but he knew how sensitive you must feel right now.

You shook your head, placing your hand on his stomach. He moved his cock up and down your slit, coating it with your wetness. You moaned, shaking your head.

“It’s too much right now.” You tried to move away but he held your hips down.

“I promise it won’t be so bad, you’ll feel so good baby.” Angel coaxed, placing kisses all over your neck, trying to bring the fire up again. “You’re so fucking wet too baby, I’m just going to slide right in.” Angel was almost sure that wasn’t true, but he did prep you as best as he could.

You know Angel would take care of you, that it was going to feel good once he was buried inside you. “Okay.”

Angel lines his cock up to your opening, coating the tip before pushing himself in. He groaned, looking down at you, watching the pure pleasure on your face as you arched your back, holding on to his forearms as his hands held your legs apart. Angel watched where you two were joined, cursing under his breath.

Watching all these new sensations coarse through your body, the whimpering and moans that you let out was music to his ears. He had this possessiveness over you. He was your first and he intended to keep you by his side and be your last.

But then Diego poked at him.

That motherfucker.

He should have known.

Known that he would pull some shit like this.

“Fuck Angel,” you voice broke him out of his thoughts. His vision cleared and you were watching where you two were joined, your pupils were dilated and Angel was sure he was as well.

“Feel good, Querida?” He slowed his pace when he noticed you were tightening up around him. You fell back, arched back and his name on your lips. Angel loved seeing you so vulnerable, see how much you were enjoying this, how intimate this was. “I fucking love you, don’t ever fucking forget that.”

You nodded unable to speak as Angel fastened his pace again.

“Can’t get enough huh?” Angel cockily asked you.

You shook your head, pulling Angel down so your lips could meet. He moved you two so you were sitting on his lap as he sat down, guiding you to move up and down his cock. You felt that familiar feeling as this position was hitting you at the right spot. Angel thrusted up, sucking on your neck, leaving hickeys all over. You loved the feel of his beard against your skin, how it slightly tickled, but you loved it. Giving him an open mouthed kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Angel pulled away, wanting to watch you as you came. You bit your lip, but Angel smoothed it out, wanting to hear you.

“Angel, I need-,” you felt yourself tightening up, but it wasn’t enough. It was like you couldn’t reach that orgasm, but it was so close.

“I got you baby.” He placed you on your back. Angel thrusted into you, his thumb on your clit, rubbing it.

“Shit, that feels so good.” You moaned out as you clamped down on Angel. The familiar feeling at the pit of your stomach came for the fifth time that night and you let out an ‘Oh god’, as Angel continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

“Look at that, that’s my fucking girl.” Angel pulled out, watching as his cum dripped down. He licked his lips, gathering whatever came out and pushed it inside once again. He was a bastard for thinking it, but he hoped he got you pregnant so even after he fucked up, you couldn’t leave him.

Angel helped you clean up, slipping in under the covers with you in his arms. He knew you were asleep, especially with tonight’s activity.

“Please forgive me, amor. Once I handle Diego, you’ll be back in my arms for good.” He knew you couldn’t hear him.

Tomorrow was going to be a bitch.

You stretched, loving the soreness you felt between your legs. A smile crossed your face as you opened your eyes. You reached over your nightstand and got your glasses. Angel was no longer beside you, which was not surprising since you knew he had a shift at the scrapyard. Taking your phone out, you saw you had a message from him and a few other people, but he was the first one you opened.

But you wished you didn’t.

You really wished you didn’t.

‘Y/N, we’re done. I got what I wanted from you. Sorry I strung you along, but now that I got what I wanted, we’re done. Thank you for giving yourself to me, I'll never forget it.’

You couldn’t believe it. You reread the message over and over again in disbelief. This wasn’t Angel. He wouldn’t use you, he knew what you went through. After everything you two went through this past year and half, there was no way he was faking everything.

But that voice at the back of your head, mocked you, chuckling at your rebuttal for every negative thought it threw at you. Insecurities were a bitch and you felt like the world was closing in on you again. This was worse than what happened with Regina and Diego, which bothered you. But Angel was different. You were in love with Angel, a man that thought you were worth the risk no matter who your relatives were. He saw you for more than your relations within the organization and now, you felt like a fool.

A sob escaped your lips as his words ran through your mind, now coupled with that voice at the back of your head.

‘You’ll never be good enough.’

‘Another man who you thought was worth the risk, but at the end, you looked like a fool again.’

‘You’re not worth loving. You’ll always be just that friend.’

You felt your heart break, laughing at how much of a fool you were.

Fuck Angel Reyes.

================

Angel felt shitty. He was looking at his phone every fifteen minutes hoping to see some reply from you, but there was nothing. He wasn’t surprised, but there was some part of him that wished you replied.

“You okay?” Coco questioned as they took a smoke break.

“No, I broke up with her.”

“Shit, well, here she comes now.” Coco warned.

As soon as Angel turned around the sting on his cheek was immediate. His head recoiled, his eyes immediately on you. He didn’t want to see your face, he didn’t want to see the hurt in your eyes. He loves you, but this was something he had to do. Diego was at the corner of his eye, wiping off his sweat, a smirk on his face. The victory etched on his face was too much, but he had to do this.

“Fuck you Angel,” you venomously spat out. “I gave myself to you and you broke up with me through text. You can go fuck your self. You’re no better than the person you apparently tried to protect me from. I just wished you didn’t fuck with me as hard as you did.”

Before Angel could even utter a word, you walked away, moving away from Bishop when he tried to approach you. His eyes locked on Angel and it made him swallow hard.

“Prez,” Angel began, but Bishop cut him off.

"You strike me as a smart man, so I know you didn't fuck with her feelings. I don't care what you do, but you're going to fix this or I'm going to hang your balls outside the fucking gate." Bishop smacked Angel upside the head and walked away with Hank and Taza in tow.

Diego approached Angel, taking his phone out. Stopping beside him so Angel could see his phone screen, he deleted all the contents he has with Adelita in it.

“I’m a man of my word.” Diego clapped a hand on Angel’s shoulder which he immediately shrugged off. “This is the best for her. You know it, that’s why you let her go.”

Diego walked away, thinking of what he could do for you later so that he could keep you company. Angel broke your heart, so he was going to mend it for you. And in good time, you would be back in his arms.

Coco approached Angel, placing a hand on his shoulder knowing that a storm was brewing.

“Did he delete everything?” Coco asked

“Yep.”

“We’re getting even right?”

Angel turned to him and smirked. “He won’t even fucking see what’s coming for him.”

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