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heartbrake-hotel · 1 year

Note

Lordy honey yall makin me wanna write my own damn prompt. I got some more little tidbits for ya:

Elvis was turned during his first appearance at the International. But who turned him? I'm thinking there's some sort of deal going on between one the old vampires who invested in the building, maybe even the International's owner and Colonel Parker. They want Elvis to play there for as long as possible, and he isn't getting any younger--so they make it so he can't get any older, either.

At first Elvis is in a state of confusion, because fledglings (at least in my thoughts) are in a sort of fog when first turned. It helps them to adapt to feeding; cue Colonel Parker shoving cigarette girls into Elvis's suite, which he drains dry, much to his own horror when the initial feeding frenzy lifts.

And Colonel Parker isn't exactly picky with what he feeds Elvis: whoever is easy to get up into the suite, and high young girls are the easiest. Elvis tries, when he can afford it, to not feed--he doesn't know that if he drinks regularly then the frenzy won't come, but nobody has told him much of anything. His Sire isn't there, there wasn't any sort of ritual to his Turning as there normally is. No, this was just business.

aLRIGHT WOOHOO SMITTY MY LOVE LOOK AT US !!! im finally getting to this lmaoooo oOOPS 🙈 AND i have some mf THOUGHTS,,

(the orig hc post is here btw) ((idk if yall could tell but it Wrecked my Shit))

also it's been Sooooo long since we discussed this that u now have some Other relevant supernatural!au lore to pull from . so,, i hope u don't mind if i conflate the two universes a lil but ur worldbuilding in you ain't nothin' but a overtook my conscious mind weeks ago and has yet to relent 💝 oh nooooo.. whatever shall i dooooo.. 😏

far too many words under the cut. i, uh.. i may have lost control a lil 🤭🦇 ft. a frankly excessive use of pet names and an e who has been babygirlified maybe more than is appropriate within the confines of the plot (shocking, i'm sure).

right ok so !! vegas as a hub for at least some of the supernatural bc of its transient nature, high tourist volume, and seedy reputation. obvious check

for the most part, unaffiliated vamps stay out of vegas. like you said- it's too hard to monitor their blood concentrations when everyone and their dog is doing truckloads of party drugs well into the night.! but there are, of course, some Old Ones, who saw (or perhaps even built??) the city as their own personal playground btw this blends so seamlessly into the irl high-level mob ties its crazy lmao. marina's bringing up elvis is literally never not on my mind 🙏

if you're rich enough, or powerful enough (or have friends who are enough so), you don't have to fend for yourself the same way, so it's less of an issue. sucking out some rando party girl off the street is faaar beneath the pay grade of the handful of guys at the top, who have their meals carefully cultivated and hand-procured thru what is almost certainly a human trafficking ring

kirk kerkorian [or meyer kohn - u can pick ur universe, here] and the entire board of the international is of course among this group, exerting their power and influence (and perhaps Compulsion) to keep the flow of money running smoothly from the casinos below directly into their cash-lined pockets.

colonel tom parker [a demon again? or perhaps nobody in particular - either way he ends up hellspawn lmao whether literally or figuratively] is acutely aware of this when he first signs elvis on for the hotel's opening season - how could he not be? and of course everything goes perfectly smoothly for those first six weeks in 1969. **ik im twisting ur original idea just a tad but bear w me

but the longer the engagement goes, the more trouble colonel has reining elvis in. he had agreed heartily to those first fifty-eight appearances - purely to fund his upcoming world tour, you understand ("the snowman strikes again!"). but no matter how much colonel wheedles, he's not budging; elvis simply will not sign on for the next year.! he's finally holding his ground... and that's his undoing

coming off the back of his comeback special and last movie, e finally feels like he's got his mojo workin' - the king is back on top! after a looong decade stuffed fit to bursting with his botched movie career, he never thought he'd wrest any semblance of creative control away from the powers that be. but the last year or so has really made him see the value of his own opinion, AND the dangers of continued complacency. so with the backing of his family and extended entourage, he's heading halfway across the world just as soon as he gets off that stage for the last time.

colonel can't have that, not with the remainder of his hefty personal debt hanging in the balance. and with all the dough the hotel is raking in during the first dregs of their opening season, nobody up top wants their prize little cash cow flying away to london or japan or the rock of eternity or wherever he's fixin' to go - not if they have anything to say about it !

and so a plan is devised, swiftly, mercilessly, and without any pesky sense of remorse. after all, what do they have to feel bad about? they're just taking care of business

just after elvis' last performance, he's heading to his packed-up suite to shower and change for what he thinks will be the last time.. the boys are downstairs getting the last of the stuff in the cars and then they'll all head to the airport. he's got just a couple minutes to spare, and he assures them he'll be fine alone. just gonna run on up and change real quick, y'all don't needta worry about me none. [*evil colonel voice* wanna bet?]

he steps into his unusually empty suite, but before he can even shuck the towel from around his neck, his throat is being wrenched to the side in a vice grip as an unseen assailant steps from their hiding spot behind the door. he yelps, tries to throw them off, goes for the gun in his boot, but their grip is like steel, solid and unyielding, and before he can move much of anywhere there's a sharp prick in his neck and a sudden heaviness in his muscles he can't quite shake.

he assumes it's a syringe - he's not wholly unfamiliar with a needle, after all, and why would he suspect anything else? he guesses he's been drugged on account of... well, on account of bein' elvis presley. goddamn sonsabitches don't need any more reason than that. 'course, the sensation is a little different than he's used to - the gauge is unfamiliar, and he could swear he feels two distinct track marks - but by then his head is spinning too much to be certain of anything.

the last thing he feels is a rushing sense of complacency as his legs give out. his vision is swimming too much too see his attacker's face, but they let him go down, hard, and he crumples to an undignified heap on the floor helplessly as they turn to... leave? huh. not what he expected, but he supposes beggars can't be choosers

his sluggishly disjointed musings are broken only by the shadowy figure melting back into the shadows... his increasingly-addled mind knows he should be glad at their sudden departure, but all he can concentrate on is the inexplicable swing out of the vague sense of euphoria that had been the "drugs" kicking in, and a sudden accompanying feeling that he didn't like one bit. he could only describe it as a crawling fear, an absence, a kind of ripping deep in his soul... a pervasive sense of distance, of wrongness so festering he feared it was about to tear him apart from the inside out. he's suddenly certain he's not meant to be alone right now.

he gasps in the worst pain he's ever felt, and at the same moment, he's aware of a rush of footsteps in the hallway outside - he barely manages a wobbly gesture to the door and a slurred request to rip his goddamn tongue out b'the roots to the panicked faces of his boys crowding around his supine form before his vision finally goes dark.

when he wakes up, he's in an all-too-familiar bed. before running for the doctor and his daddy, a frazzled jerry sitting vigil at his side hurriedly explains that without him conscious enough to fill them in, all they knew is he wasn't fit to travel, so they'd unpacked his suite again while waiting for him to return to the land of the living. he's grateful, but assures him that as soon as he's feeling better they'll be heading out again.

he asks jerry to turn down the thermostat and flip off the light on his way out. the heavily-drawn drapes had already ensured it'd been near-pitch dark and freezing, just how he liked it, but he murmured it felt like he was burnin' up from the inside out, and his eyes were too sensitive for even the ambient glow of his bedside lamp. jerry does so and also fetches him a pair of big ol' sunglasses, without a word.

the doctors (who'd been summoned to the hotel; despite protests from the mafia, colonel had suggested that moving elvis to a hospital could be even more dangerous, what with this criminal still on the loose, and vernon had reluctantly agreed) hadn't been able to tell what he'd been dosed with - it'd metabolized too quickly to detect, apparently. all they can tell him after the last four days of monitoring his comatose form is that his vitals have been almost astonishingly strong. the only symptom he's had has been a high fever, but it breaks as soon as he's awake again- and actually, his body temp has overcorrected and is a little low now, is he feeling chilly?

they joke that whatever he'd been given seems to have actually helped him, and he's inclined to agree... despite the fact that they hadn't administered anything to him except an IV drip, in case it had any adverse interactions with whatever he'd been on, his chronic pain has mysteriously vanished. and since he's been awake and in recovery, he's only seemed to get more handsome and charming, no sign at all of being out of it and on fluids for so long. you sure wouldn't have known his recent predicament by looking at him !

he's got a host of baffling new symptoms as well, but nothing that seems dangerous or that points to any kind of diagnosis. he's growing increasingly thirsty, but the buckets of water he's drinking aren't quenching him. he seems to have lost his sense of taste (this one hits him the worst) - at first, the smell of food made him nauseous. now he can keep it down, but it feels like ash in his mouth. his light sensitivity lingers, though for the most part it's limited to natural light, and he takes to wearing the sunglasses often. he seems to have developed a sudden allergy to some of his jewelry - his silver rings and pendants now cause a burning rash. he has them remade in gold and doesn't give it a second thought.

he tells and retells his story to the cops, but they're left scratching their heads; it's widely assumed the panicked arrival of the mafia scared off the creep before they could pull off the rest of their plan. kill him, kidnap him for ransom... seemed like they'd never know for sure, but either way everyone agrees he narrowly escaped a much worse fate. colonel doesn't think it wise for him to be on the road, what with this continued threat hanging over his head, but jerry argues it doesn't seem any better to stay in vegas with this freak at large. and elvis points out that if the bastard follows him overseas, they have bigger fish to fry.

the boys seem confused that the attack doesn't appear to have played into his usual paranoia in any way; he doesn't know quite how to explain it, he tells them, but he feels stronger, somehow. more settled. like if it ever came to it again, he could handle himself. it might just be relieved cockiness, but what didn't kill him made it so he's at least not afraid again. he's been reflecting deeply on psalm 23, apparently.

and so the suite is once again packed up, despite colonel's protestations- this time with elvis under constant supervision, much to his good-natured amusement. it goes without incident, and they make it all the way to the runway before elvis is suddenly doubled over in pain in the back of the limo, sweating and shaking like a leaf.

he's groaning that it hurts, hurts s'bad, but can't say anything more than that, and within seconds the whole caravan has whipped around and is careening back to the relative safety of the hotel. by the time he's being ferried hurriedly up to his room, he's improving steadily, and by the time he's settled in bed and the doctors once more fetched, he's weak and badly shaken but seems no worse for wear.

the doctors can't explain this apparent relapse any more than the first, but tentatively give him a clean bill of health, and two days later they try it all again. this time he makes it within a couple miles of the airport, and it takes him four days to recover. the last time they try, he only makes it four blocks away from the Strip and is bedridden for a week. nobody has any sort of explanation, and the tour is put on hold indefinitely while they're seemingly stranded.

the colonel is the one who offers a possible solution. he'd been hovering around elvis' room the whole time (like a bad smell, sonny mutters when he's out of earshot), fluttering around with assurances that the hotel would gladly host them as long as they needed, maybe even sign them on for another season if elvis so wished...

when elvis finally roars that he just wants OUT of this place, goddammit in response to vernon's suggestion that he stop working himself up with leaving, colonel finally pounces.

he must put his foot down, he says. his boy is clearly in no condition to travel- no, no, not physically, he hastily amends, when elvis opens his mouth to remind him what the doctors said, but clearly mentally. something about the attack has left him emotionally unstable, it appears, and the idea of leaving, even though he's so sure he wants to, is clearly triggering some kind of psychosomatic attack. why doesn't he make up his mind to stay- not forever, just until his head is screwed on right. he can keep playing the international, and they can find him some head-shrinkers to fix him right up, eh? elvis doesn't see any choice but to glumly agree.

of course, unbeknownst to elvis, the real issue is that his Maker won't allow him to leave vegas city limits. he's been kept totally in the dark as to his situation and is thus totally suggestible, so when the vampire who Turned him (continually employed by the Ancients for just this kind of dirty work) uses their mental connection to Compel him to stay within a certain radius, elvis doesn't even know he's feeling it, much less that it's possible to fight it. his Bat simply obeys without question, to the confusion of his body and conscious mind.

if his Turning had been accompanied by proper ritual, if his Maker had explained any of his new life to him, if he'd received any guidance at all, he'd know he could override this instinct, break the Bond they shared (especially as ill-cultivated as it is), and be on his way. as it is, he's like a dog with a newly-installed invisible fence. a dog who's also growing steadily weaker since his Turning because of his lack of sustenance, mind you.

the colonel knows all this. he also knows that any doctors or psychiatrists that see elvis from this point on will be in the know, be provided by the hotel, and be payed handsomely to tell elvis exactly what the colonel wants him to hear. he send word to the Council that they've got him at last. they rejoice at the prospect of chaining elvis to their stage for an eternity, elvis begrudgingly signs the contract for another engagement, and this is where the real trouble starts...

it's been three weeks since he was inadvertently Turned, and elvis is feeling the affects of not having Fed, though he doesn't realize it. he's weak, he's thirsty, he's snappish, and can somebody turn off those godDAMNED lights !!! the mafia assume it's due to his mental slump and are at a loss except to wait it out, but the colonel thinks he has something to cheer him up. he winks and tells red that elvis will have a few, ehem.. lady visitors tonight, and surely they shouldn't be disturbed. the boys get the hint.

colonel sends up the ditziest cigarette girl he can find downstairs, a perky little blonde, so doped-up out of her mind she's wobbling in her heels. she gasped and flushed darkly when he told her that mr. presley was in need of her services; he hadn't even needed to slip her any cash to incentivize her troubles. he chomped on his cigar and grinned darkly as he watched her giggle her way to the elevator.

elvis, for his part, almost makes it. he'd answered the rhythmic little knock in his robe, loosely tied, and didn't miss the way the sweet young thing at his door gaped at the sight of all that chest on display. before he can even say anything, she's slipped under his arm and further into the room, and he raises an eyebrow and grins as he eases the door shut. he peruses her wares (the CIGARETTES !! im talking about the cigarettes..) more for show than anything else, and hands her a $20 in exchange for a pack he doesn't plan on smoking, telling her to keep the change.

she bends over far more than necessary while stacking boxes back in her tray, and flutters her lashes when she asks him if there's... anything else she can get him. flattered as he is, he tells her, he isn't sure he needs anything just now, but thank you kindly anyways, honey. truthfully, he's not sure he's feeling up for it, but she pouts so prettily as she swings her hips sadly over to the door, and turns back to ask if he's really really sure... the colonel had sent her up with express instructions to give him anything he wanted, she explains, sultry little whine in her voice, and he finds his resolve crumbling.

surely a little kissing wouldn't hurt, he reasons, might even make him feel a lil better, and her eyes light up in glee when he beckons her back over. but the minute she's in his arms, easing her way up to his lips as her eyes flutter shut, he isn't sure what comes over him. they're so close her heartbeat rushes in his ears, and without a thought he's effortlessly snapped her neck (with strength he didn't know he had) and is lapping frantically from her torn throat (pierced with the aid of sharp fangs he's never felt before). she never even saw it coming.

he moans as he sags to the ground, clutching her limp form and still slurping desperately as, for the first time since his attack, his thirst is quenched. he dimly realizes he's done something unforgivable, but his head feels like it's been stuffed with cotton, everything around him distant and foggy. the sense of panic he knows he should be feeling is a far-off twinge, all but muted by the combined cocktail of ecstasy running through him: fresh blood, dope, and a brain fog he can't quite attribute to either.

when she's dry he's sated, the sense of woozy relief hits him so strong that he barely manages to stagger to his feet and stumble over to the couch, chin and hands still covered in blood, before he's passing out for ten hours of the emptiest sleep he's ever had. when he wakes up, all traces of what happened are gone, and with a mind that finally feels clearer than it has for weeks, he almost manages to convince himself it was an incredibly fucked-up dream, so potent that the sweet metallic tang is still blooming on his tongue...

...until of course, the next time it happens. it goes much the same way: the colonel has no trouble locating a girl who'll never be missed- this is vegas, after all- and sends her, high as a kite of her own volition, up to the penthouse to keep company with a disgruntled and starving elvis. he drains her dry before he can even blink, but stays awake this time to spend the next few hours totally blissed out in an uncomfortably drugged haze. the more he comes down, the more he hates not only what he's done but also the way it makes him feel.

thus starts a vicious cycle: elvis, terrified of feeding, swears off blood, until he's half-starved but fighting himself at every turn. the colonel intervenes, sending throngs of low-risk girls up to the suite, where e simply can't help himself anymore, and enters a violent blood-crazed frenzy. he spends the hours after staggering around half-lucid, waiting for the effects to fade so he can convince himself he'll never do it again.

the stronger he maintains his tenuous mental fortitude- the longer he goes between feeds- the more girls he needs in a night to fill him up, and the higher he gets afterwards. he doesn't ask where colonel finds them or what he does with the bodies. he thinks dully that he doesn't much want to know.. it's hard enough on his conscience already.

of course, yet another thing nobody's bothered to explain to poor frightened fledgling elvis is that every time he refuses to feed when he should, every time he feels the welling signs of that dark hunger within himself and shoves them down in distress, every time his instincts are forced to take over and quite literally make him feed, that it exacerbates the mental fog he's feeling.

vampiric lore (which of course he doesn't know) attributes it to a sort of easing-in countermeasure; it's only newly-turned vampires, not fully in touch with their desires, that attempt to starve themselves so, clearly suffering from a mental block regarding the morality of preying upon their former species. to smooth their transition into acceptance of their new form, every time they're forced to feed rather than do it willingly, a potent release of hormones and neurotransmitters floods their system, both to combat any lingering guilt and to make them crave the mental release of feeding just as much as the physical.

if he were to feed normally, if he were to provide his body with the nourishment it needed on a regular basis, his instincts wouldn't have to override his mind this way. he wouldn't be forced to feed so violently or so much, he'd be able to control himself such that he could select his own victims preferentially and even bring himself to stop before killing them, and he wouldn't feel so overwhelmed afterwards.

elvis thinks of his... condition as an affliction, a temptation he lacks the strength to overcome, but really, it's his body's desperate attempt to stay alive when his mind insists on thwarting his ongoing survival at every turn. the bloodlust isn't a punishment but a protective measure, and one he could prevent if he'd take consistent care of his new needs.

and on top of all that, the particular way his intake is chemically tainted only adds to this anguish, because now he's unknowingly also developing a dependency on the drugs- the painful withdrawal symptoms of which serve to strongarm him into feeding even more frequently.

things are only exacerbated by his performance engagement starting back up; of course, it's even easier to find girls- hordes of them batter the doors to the showroom after every show, desperate for just another glimpse of him- but it also means he's got a responsibility to be right there on that stage twice a night, able-minded or no, and he takes that very seriously.

he's got people to support, after all, so he gets very used to functioning while highly intoxicated, whether that means performing, schmoozing the high rollers in the casino at the behest of his hotel benefactors, or smiling through a never-ending stream of reporters and photographers during every interview and press conference.

this is where the reader steps in !!!

you're one of less than a handful of vamps, just two or three, really, who manage to stick around vegas (and consume healthy blood) without the influence of the Old Ones, a feat you manage by staying off the Strip almost entirely. you stick to the suburbs, both as a way to ensure you're not tripping out after every meal, and to (hopefully) stay out of sight and out of mind of the powerful Ancients who don't want anyone infringing on their territory. this is very fright night remake vibes btw if anyone remembers that

but there's very little to do in the dusty, sprawling desert neighborhoods that isn't centered around maintaining the tourism industry downtown, especially for an immortal with nothing but time (and the occasional meal) to kill. you're nowhere near as experienced as those you seek to avoid, but you've been around the block quite a few times yourself, and sometimes the neon glow of the city lights overrides the quiet boredom of your safely-maintained little perimeter.

tonight is one such night: elvis presley had been headlining the international hotel for what felt like ages, or maybe just a blink - it was hard to judge that pesky human time, when their lifespans were so much shorter than yours. either way, he'd been this era's answer to jesus for a few decades now, and you had to admit you were curious to see him in person at last.

you decide on the midnight show- maybe if you're lucky, you can scrounge up a snack on the way home. you don't bother with a ticket- though you have more than enough human money stored up over the years, you're sure it's no use for what promises to be a sold-out show. the bouncers aren't any deterrent, either- you simply Compel them into checking the list for your name another time, and they let you in without a murmur. the showroom is packed so full, you notice as you survey the area, that nobody could ever notice one more.

you slip into a vacant seat at the end of one of the long tables that line the stage, with a group of screaming fans who don't seem to notice that they don't know you. you can't tell if their distraction is borne more from excitement or alcohol, but either way, you're grateful for the cover. you order a bloody mary as your own personal joke and bide your time until the show starts, perusing the booths that line the floor behind you. you recognize a few familiar Old Ones, by face if not name- no surprise, considering who runs the casino just outside.

eventually, the lights fade and the orchestra bursts into an opening riff. you clap with the rest when elvis struts out on stage, looking resplendent in a white jumpsuit, grinning wide and boyishly and practically glowing under the stage lights. his rings flash as he waves to the audience, courteous and attentive even as he starts singing. when the song's over he introduces himself and some of the VIPs, including the owner of the hotel (now there's a vamp who's been getting himself a lot of press lately), and the heavyset man next to him, apparently elvis' own manager. the man gives a simpering smile and wave to the crowd as the spotlights illuminate the booth, and you wrinkle your nose as you turn back to the main stage. you haven't placed it yet, but something seems off about that one.

elvis puts on a good show, you'll give him that, but the longer you watch, the more puzzled you become. he's slurring just a bit when he jokes with the band in between numbers, and more clumsy than you'd expect for someone so flexible; you'd say it was just another hollywood star using and abusing drugs if he didn't look so... panicked every time. he's twitchy, too, keeps getting down toward the edge of the stage like he's about to move out into the crowd and start planting kisses on his clamoring fans, like you've heard he does, but he keeps jerking himself back at the last second. they seem to think he's teasing, screaming louder every time, and he plays it off with a slow grin, but it's almost like... like he's afraid he won't be able to control himself, like...

ah. there it is

you zero in on just the barest flash of fang in his smile, and immediately suss out what's going on. elvis presley, a fledgling vamp in what is indisputably the worst city in the world for fledgling vamps... strange things are happening every day, aren't they?

that leaves you with more questions than answers, however... questions like where's his Master? why isn't he feeding properly? who's keeping him half-starved and strung-out? and most importantly, does he even know what's going on?

you narrow your eyes contemplatively as you watch him fool with the microphone before prompting the band to start the next song. all it takes is seeing his hands tremble around the cord to make you nod decisively and shoot back the rest of your drink. you suppose you can stick around a little longer than originally planned... after all, it seemed like elvis might need a little help fixing this, whether he knew it or not.

you lingered just a little after the show ended, waiting until the throngs of frantic women had pushed their way back to the lobby before heading after them yourself. you glanced around surreptitiously, locating the nearest elevator bay... and near it, a familiar older man with a cane whispering furtively to a clearly-tipsy young woman, one you recognized from your table during the show. she had caught a silk scarf fluttering down in front of her from the man himself and hadn't stopped screaming until the lights came back on. bingo

you ran one hand through your hair haphazardly, tousling it slightly as you stumbled your way over to them. "oh, there you are! i was looking for you," you chirped. she gasps and waves excitedly in the earnest way only drunk girls do, but your mouth is open again before she can speak and do something incriminating, like ask your name. "who's y'r friend? s'he coming upstairs with us?" you giggle, leering at... what had his name been again? ah yes, colonel parker. you silently gave a sigh of thanks for your heightened senses- you might not have recognized him just from your brief glimpse during the show otherwise.

the colonel glanced you over dismissively, clearly writing you off as another inebriated fan - his mistake, but exactly what you wanted him to think all the same. he gave you a leering grin and tapped his cane as he said "ah, i was just asking your friend here to do a simple personal favor for me..." you hummed disinterestedly until he continued "...on behalf of mister presley, of course." you gasped exaggeratedly and willed your cheeks to flush- lucky you had fed recently.

he seems to buy it, from the way his eyebrow ticks upwards when he sees your reaction "perhaps you would like to... accompany her to his suite, no?" he teases. you nod raptly, artificial stars in your eyes, and he snorts as he pushes the call elevator button for you with the top of his cane. "top floor. you two enjoy yourselves," he chuckles. the two of you giggle as he saunters away, towards the casino entrance.

as soon as the doors slide shut behind you, you straighten up and tidy your hair in the chromatic reflection until you're once again presentable. you brush off your outfit, fiddling until you're satisfied, then take a deep breath. snapping once to get your lightly confused companion's attention, your turn her shoulders towards you so she's making woozy and bewildered eye contact with you.

"hi honey. having a good night? good. this is how the rest of it is gonna go, ok? now you listen to me-"

when the doors opened again at the thirtieth floor, the girl (tracy. she had told you absently her name was tracy) waved distractedly over her shoulder as she walked straight out of the elevator bay and into the nearby stairwell, head filled with what she believed to be an immutable truth about the elevator being out of service. she'd walk back to her room (on the off chance there was anyone downstairs monitoring the floor indicator dial), wake up perfectly safe in the morning, and think nothing of it.

meanwhile, you let yourself into elvis' suite with the key tracy had handed over, a parting gift from the colonel. you left the lights off, made yourself comfortable on the couch facing the door, and waited.

you didn't have to wait long- just minutes later, there was noise outside, multiple male voices speaking over each other as they all piled out of the elevator and headed for the door, elvis' the loudest. "yeah, yeah, i said i'd meet you down there, didn't i? doin' my damn head in... i'll tell ya what, y'all g'head and i'll call down there when i'm done. yes i swear, now git!" laughter and good-natured ribbing faded as the elevator doors presumably closed behind the crowd once again, punctuated with a sigh and the click of the door lock disengaging another time.

elvis didn't seem to notice you as he walked in, leaving the light off as well as he patted his face dry with the damp towel looped around his neck. he leaned against the wall with one hand to brace himself as he toed off his boots, then whipped his dark shades off onto a side table and gripped the bridge of his nose with another deep sigh.

"are you in any pain, mr. presley?" he yelped in undignified surprise and whipped around with a touch of vampiric speed, dropping the towel in his fright to discover the source of your voice. despite the pitch blackness of the room, his eyes locked onto yours immediately through the dark, without needing to scan the empty space around you- another sign of his transition. no mortal could see as perfectly well in this scenario as the two of you could.

"wh- who-" he stuttered some, regaining his bearings, as you cocked your head in evaluation. "i'm sorry to startle you, mr. presley," you say evenly, but pleasantly. "you can drop that shit straightaway, honey, that's my daddy. can jus' call me elvis." he murmurs absentmindedly, as if it hadn't been what he really intended to say but came out by habit. "and now that you know me, may i ask who you are? and better yet what the hell you're doing in my room?" he doesn't sound angry, per se, more resigned than anything, and you smile wryly in response as you introduce yourself. "real pretty, honey, but i'd like an answer to my other question, too." he raises his eyebrow, and you wonder if he's even aware of how much charismatic mental energy he's leaking right now. it was even more apparent to you now why humans throw themselves at him left and right.

"sorry, m- i mean, elvis. the colonel sent me up. i saw your show- you were fantastic, but i had a couple questions." "he did, did he? just wonderful," he almost growls, squeezing his eyes shut. "and some questions, you said? you a reporter?" his voice sounds hard-edged for the first time tonight, but he seems to relax again when you answer with a simple no. "just concerned, i guess." he hums tiredly at your response, vague though it is. "concerned about what, 'bout the show? i'll do my best to answer your questions, honey, but i really don't think there's all too much to be concerned about-"

"elvis, when was the last time you fed?" you can hear his breath catch from clear across the room. "i-i had lunch after rehearsals, but i ain't had dinner yet, if that's what you're askin'... pretty forward way to ask me on a date, but i-" you put a hand up to cut him off. "i think you know perfectly well that's not what i'm asking, elvis. when was the last time you fed properly? on blood?" "...ha! been watching a little too many dark shadows reruns, honey?" his words trip over themselves getting out, and eventually he gives up to just blink at you, speechless, owl-eyed, and afraid despite his frankly pathetic attempt at a cover. he looks like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar only this time the metaphorical cookie jar is a number of very literal human corpses lol

you bite back a sigh- perhaps you pushed too hard there. poor thing is wringing his hands like he thinks you're gonna put him in cuffs any minute. "maybe we should start over- i'm here to help, ok? i wanna make sure you're alright, cuz i think you might have a lot of questions nobody's explained to you yet. c'mere and sit next to me, baby, and we'll just talk" you pat the seat next to you, flipping his casual pet naming back on him effortlessly. to be fair, he is a baby to you- only, what, a couple months old? that's nothing compared to your few hundred years.

he eyes the spot next to you but shakes his head, still looking like a lost puppy. "n-no, i- m'fine over here," he manages. you furrow your brow; he's gonna need to start trusting you if he wants your help, and this is a bad way to begin. "i promise, i'm not gonna hurt you, elvis-" that sure does it. "i'm not worried about that!" he exclaims. "m'worried about me hurting you!"

you breathe out a surprised little oh, suddenly understanding. "is that what you're so worried about, sweetie? i'm not afraid of you." you try to placate him. "y-you should be afraid of me, honey. i am."

and that's the crux of the matter, isn't it? it breaks your heart a little to know that this is what he's been grappling with alone. it's not meant to be like this- with time and acceptance, he was meant to gain eternal companionship (your semi-loner status nonwithstanding). and whoever heard of a scared vampire?

but you put that aside to focus on elvis- and quickly realize there's one more... little thing you might've left out.

"you don't need to be anymore, ok? i'm gonna help you learn to control it." you beckon him over again, and this time he makes it halfway across the floor before you realize you're not sure if you're Compelling him or not. he'll need to learn what it feels like eventually, in order to both use it and combat it, but now's probably not the time. you break eye contact, just in case, and he falters slightly, but keeps coming, putting you at ease.

as he gets close enough to hear your heartbeat, though, his eyes suddenly turn frantic, and he backpedals, once again in the grip of that familiar terror. "you- you have to get out of here, i can't-" you shush him, not unkindly. "oh, sweetheart. that one's my bad, ok? i guess i haven't been very good at this so far," you grin apologetically. "but you couldn't hurt me, even if you tried"

you use your superspeed to whoosh over to his side and back, the only sign you'd moved at all the slight sway of your hair in the breeze it creates- and the golden ankh pendant now swinging from your upturned palm. elvis gapes, hands reaching up to feel the now-empty space around his neck where the necklace rested just moments ago. "how...?" listen i really can't be assed abt the fact he wasn't wearing necklaces this early ok. it was a cool move

"forgot to tell you - i'm souped up, too." you wink at him, flashing your pupils the deep red they turn when you're Feeding. "and also i think a little stronger than you, given what i saw on stage tonight." this is soo cliche im sorry but Spooky Eyes HAWT. i don't feel bad about it actually

the immediate sense of overwhelming relief on his face almost aches to see, and he's crossed the remaining stretch of floor to practically collapse in your arms sobbing before you can blink. it's... very surprising, you'll admit, but not unwelcome, either, and you're sure the uncertainty lingers in your voice as you gentle him softly, petting his hair and rubbing his back and trying not to overthink the fact that you've known elvis presley for all of ten minutes and now... this is happening. whatever this is.

"woah- woah, hey, what's happening? what's the matter, baby?" he's shaking like a leaf as you hold him, trying to work out in what universe this makes sense. "i-i-i ain't-" he manages through tears. "i haven't been able to touch any-anyone this whole time without b-being so goddamned afraid i'd hurt 'em... and i just- i..."

your worst fears for him, first materialized as you watched him onstage and puzzled about the identity of his Master, are confirmed. "baby... have you been alone this whole time?" you whisper. he just nods from his resting place, face buried in your shoulder. IS this a weird level of intimacy for 2 virtual strangers? totally yup. DO i still think its arguably valid considering how desperately lonely i have decided to make this bitch? uh huh :3

you suck in a breath through your teeth, suddenly filled with the fiery emotion you've been tamping down all night- rage. rage at whoever organized this hit, at whoever must be profiting off it while elvis suffers and innocent girls die, at the colonel who's been shepherding bodies in here endlessly and apparently without deigning to give elvis any proper help or training- yeah, don't think you forgot about him.

but before you can do anything about that, you have to do something with the king of rock 'n roll, who's finally quieting down in your lap. you shove the anger back down, the same way you do your bloodlust- the same way you'll teach elvis.

he sits back up, furiously wiping his tear-stained face. "sorry, honey- i don't know what came over me." he barks a laugh but his eyes tell you it's for show. you tut at him, standing up to fetch him a tissue and maybe a bottle of water, if you can find it- you're sure there must have been one waiting for him after the show. his eyes widen again, but before he has time for concern you cup his cheek to brush the last of his tears away with the pad of your thumb, accompanied by a gently chiding look that says i'm not going anywhere

he has enough time to look sheepish before you putter back over to him with your spoils, talking a mile a minute to distract him. "tch, enough of that! that's part of the change- everything you felt before is doubly strong now. it can be hard to separate your emotions sometimes, especially when you're not used to it. you'll feel everything differently now, and twice as hard."

he takes a moment to mull that over as he mops his face and chugs the water bottle, then nods as he meets your eyes again. "i didn't know that, but it sounds- it feels right. what else can ya tell me?" you chuckle darkly, stretching out on the couch. "oh, just bunches, baby. get comfortable, cuz i know you've got questions- and i've got your answers."

over the course of the night, you explain everything to elvis- how he was Turned, the changes his body's going through, all the symptoms and abilities he'll experience now, why he's feeling the way he is, his options for feeding, how his habits need to change if he intends to keep going like this... it's a laborious process, given how little he knows and how much he thinks he does- he's already got a lot of misconceptions to retrain.

"hey, maybe you're the one who's been watching too many dark shadows reruns lately!" you mean it as a joke, but he flushes. "well, s'not like there's a, a handbook or anythin'! i've been tryin' to study up!" you burst out laughing, and he laughs with you.

at one point he orders up dinner for the two of you, which provides the perfect opportunity for you to offer him a creature comfort- "food? yeah, you can eat food. it won't sustain you, but you're free to eat for pleasure." at his pained look, you give him a knowing smirk. "i bet it tastes nasty right now, doesn't it?" he nods glumly, eyeing your super-rare hamburger, and you chuckle, eyeing him as you take an exaggerated bite. he groans in annoyance, and you laugh as you lick your fingers clean. "don't worry- that'll pass. it's your instincts' way of telling you that you're malnourished- kind of a deterrent from stuff that won't actually keep you alive. you'll be back to your peanut butter and banana in no time, promise." he cheers, and orders up a bottle of champagne, just for that.

"that's another thing- we metabolize differently. your system can tell the difference between the liquid calories it needs and the solid calories you're feeding it just for fun. you won't derive any energy from human food, so you can't gain weight. no reason to store fat," you shrug. "but it also means-" you clink your champagne glass with his in a mock toast, "-you can't get drunk." he sputters, "well, why'd you even let me order the bubbly then?? this shit's expensive, so they tell me!" "i like the way it sparkles! it tickles my nose!"

the hours come and go, but the two of you barely notice, so wrapped up in your conversation. that's another thing you explain- how he'll need much less rest now, if he keeps himself healthy, but that until he's being nourished properly he'll be fatigued and need to sleep pretty much like before. he admits that he was practically nocturnal beforehand, anyway- he hadn't even noticed this one change among so many more pressing.

his drapes were heavy-duty, but you could see just the barest sliver of skyline out the window as the sun began to rise. "it's almost dawn," you whisper, conscious of the fact that the vampire before you is very young, and has had a very long night. a very long month, to be perfectly honest. he hums from where his head is resting on your thigh- you'd encouraged him to lie down an hour ago when he kept breaking off his sentences to yawn hugely. actually, you'd encouraged him to get some rest and you'd talk more later, but he'd refused to go to bed, assuring you he wasn't tired 't all, just sore from the show- he got muscle aches, you know, and he needed to stretch out. you hadn't been convinced then, and you were even less so now, keeping a fond eye on him (fond?? when had that happened) as he drowsed in your lap.

his end of the conversation had started lagging about the same time you started running your hand through his hair, until he was practically purring in contentment. you huffed in amusement. "more like a kitty cat than a bat, i think." he cocked an eyebrow and grinned salaciously, though he didn't open his eyes. "oh honey, i'll show you a cat... a pussycat, to be precis-" "HEY!" you swatted him teasingly and he snickered, settling down again. "keep it clean, presley." "yes, Master." you paused in your ministrations at that, just long enough for his brow to furrow. "you don't have to call me that." "yeah... but can i? i mean, would'ya mind if i-?" his voice was quiet, but sincere. "...ok. but only if you want to." he can hear the smile in your voice without looking, and it makes him smile, too.

"you do have a real one out there, y'know." "i know. but they ain't ever helped me none- all they've done for me is turn my life upside down and leave again. but you... hell, honey, i've only known you one night, and already things are starting to feel right side up again." you sit with that for just long enough to feel pleased before you reach down to tweak his nose. he giggles, and your bid to give the both of you a break from being so fucking earnest goes off without a hitch. the tension stays broken, but the tranquil mood remains.

"guess you're stuck with me again- i can't make it all the way home in that," you venture eventually, nodding at the lone streak of sun making its way past the blackout curtains to pool on the floor behind the piano. luckily far out of the way, or he might've had a particularly unpleasant awakening of his own, had he stumbled through the patch accidentally. he shifts minutely, well on his way to sleep by now. "mm, sounds jus' awful," he drawls, answer delayed only slightly by the fact that he's snoozing, his voice is so quiet that without your enhanced senses you'd have to strain to hear it. "can't imagine quite how i'll make it through if you've gotta stick around s'more." "even dead to the world, you maintain your sense of humor, huh, baby? and those lady-killer tendencies, i see" "yeah, well, i have killed quite a few lad-" "elvis!" you laugh, scandalized, as he huffs a laugh as well as he leverages himself up to sitting.

he rubs his eyes as he tries to get his bearings. "s'pose that's my way of asking real tactful... what happens next?" "well, first we've gotta detox you." "what, from the blood? i thought you said-" "nope, not from the blood. from the drugs in the blood." "from the w-" he gapes, looking shocked and hurt, and also a little appalled at himself. "i really am sorry to break it to you, sweetheart- there's a lot going on with you right now, and only some of it is due to... this," you reach up a hand to thumb at one of his fangs, which had slipped out as soon as you started talking about blood. "the rest of it is a combination of the vegas lights and whoever up top orchestrated the whole thing." he nods slowly, expression inscrutable. "we'll take it slow, i promise. ok?" "yeah," he nods more steadily now. "yeah, i trust you."

"well, then, mr. presley- are you ready?" he nods his head as if on instinct, then has the decency to look confused. "ready for what?" you smile, fangs out. "to start getting you fixed up... so we can take down those bastards responsible for this." he just stares at you a moment before a slow grin starts to take over his face, eyes darkening to match the quite literally bloodthirsty expression in yours.

"let's get to it."

#blurb #ask #goddamn will they EVER let each other finish a sentence.???#sorry dialogue is Not my forte 🙈 im a prose kinda girlie hardcore #also yahhhh i just kind of . totally abandoned the ending to cater to my h/c fantasies. sorry not sorry 😎#halfway thru the second block of bullets i realized the hc format was completely pointless and i had basically written a full fic #on the other hand im nothing if not a stubborn bitch so.. not changing the formatting now.!#if u think about this too hard u start to see a lot of plot holes #or at least further questions about the specificities of vamp lore in this au #to that i would recommend u pls ignore them 🥰#GODDD i started writing this directly in the ask. like a fucking FOOL #knowing FULL WELL how this stupid post editor not only eats ask drafts for breakfast and spits out their bones #but ALSO that the even STUPIDER copy/paste restrictions would hit #since theres a character block limit separate from the character POST limit 🙄#so ive had this tab open for almost a week and have just been walking on eggshells around my laptop praying to not lose it dfghj #MASSIVE SIGH OF RELIEF TO POST IT TBH #also smitty ive got a sidenote for u as well but its gonna go on main lmao. one sec #oh god............ just realized i did the ff.net thing with the in-text ANs 😳😳#pOST CANCELLED; EVERYBODY GO HOME

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isabelguerra · 1 year

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boys im gonna be honest i’m deep in my ‘i am never going to post wizard au’ era again both because of The Elephant In The Room and also its so much god damn work. its so much work. im not gonna do that in my free time. so since i know there were people invested in the fic series and worldlore or whatever why dont we just talk about it instead. its got wizards. its got izjo. you wanna hear about the 6 year long wizard izjo slowburn? i can talk for ages about the 6 year long wizard izjo slowburn.

eightfold is a giant spider isabel sneaks into the library when theyre first years but by second year shes gotten too big to keep hiding. isabel tries sneaking out to help her escape but johnny catches her in the act so he gets roped in and it turns into a whole heist sneaks to get eightfold out of the wizard castle unnoticed without getting caught. at midnight. saying bye is bittersweet but on the walk back they start bickering as usual and they hate each other so much but oops oh no wait this is fun. they’re having fun actually. haha get back here. and they get back 2 dorms safe and giggling and shoving each other and its nice and isabel opens up a little bit and says thanks for being there that was super annoying but cough uh. ended up being really nice and shes glad he was there. it was nice not being alone while saying bye to her best friend. so she GUESSES maybe he isnt SO bad or whatever. and then puts the bravado back on and is grinning wide and laughing again and haha oh man did he see that ghost in the corridor with the- but johnny is NOT listening. he is still stuck on ‘i had a nice time being around you’ (<- he is unused to positive reinforcement. he is accustomed to the norm of ‘(i think) people (my friends) like me because im good at exerting myself over others in a way that makes them feel bad but makes us feel good’ and not ‘i enjoyed being around you just for you’) and is not taking it well. also very jarred and offput by the new side of his wizard sport partner, very thrown off kilter. thrown off his groove. they NEVER have good times together. like they dont have BAD times but this has never been like A Thing before but she just said it so now it IS and. okay. maybe he had fun. maybe he DID have fun. and maybe shes good to push against cause she pushes back and maybe he can admire or at least respect the tenacity it takes to do that with him. and maybe it feels cool when that look get in her eye and he knows hes in for a good duel or like shes not looking like that now but this is fine too yknow. like the warm smiling and goofy laughing and dorm fireplace lighting and the tired soft look hes never seen her with before is fine no biggie he doesnt mind. but yes he does hes freaked out. so he bolts and thinks ‘surely that isn’t something i gotta worry about’ and then worries about for the next 6 years

isabel has a tendency to keep even her closest friends a little at bay but unfortunately thats very hard to do when you share a wizard commonroom with a loudmouthed fire hazard who is also your wizard sport partner. so they end up spending a lot of time together thanks to proximity. proximity after about 3 years turns to tentative friendship. tentative friendship after 4 years turns to ‘at the point of late night study sessions draped across each other on the couch because we have shit to do and im not letting you fail because if you do you wont be able to play in the next match and if we lose cause of it im kicking your ass’ (<- ‘i like hanging out with you’). the others come over often but theres only so much time you can spend with someone who is not in your wizard school group versus someone who is and is around you 24/7. so theyre not bffs yes but they might as well be. so one day theyre learning about some idk wizard beast and oops forgot to bow or whatever, johnny gets owned and so ollie&isabel take him 2 the nurse. the catalyst here is isabel knows by now that this is someone she cares about and considers a friend but shes REALLY caught off guard at just how MUCH this is stressing her out. not wizard game related. not in a bickery play way. she doesnt know when she started caring so much, but now she IS and hes someone important to her. and hes hurt. and shes going to stay in this god damn infirmary pacing and foot tapping and doing jumping jacks to get out the energy while her brain goes 100000 miles per second. and she does that for about 4 hours. anyway johnnys fine but even after hes fine isabel is still stuck with the ‘why was That my reaction’ realization. and the answer is she li

6th year max gets his ass thrown in the trio sorcerer championship and literally all his suffering is secondary because this is an izjo au. both their feelings are still there both of them still have no idea what to do with them or how to get them out in normal ass ways. so first night back to school johnny dares everyone to sneak into the woods after curfew and see who lasts longer. hes not 12 anymore but he is 16 which arguably is worse. the bullying has lessened the scoundrelism has amplified. everyone gets terrified. scatters. haha oh its you (record scratch) guess we’re walking around the spooky woods trying to find our friends! gee the atmosphere and flustered skittishness i get around you that makes me uncomfortable because i dont know how to deal with it SURE IS amplified right now! better fall back on familiar tactics and scenarios: friendly frustrated bickering and mild threats of violence. they get in a verbal fight and have a ‘would you shut up’ ‘why dont you make me’ ‘And Then They Kiss’ moment while the emotions are super heightened and isabel, who initiated it, isabel kissed him first, then proceeds to realize what she did and loses her god damn mind freaking out and apologizing while johnny stands there totally frozen and maybe for the first time ever shocked into total speechlessness. and then max falls out of a tree and ollie finds them and ed and rj are with them and sos stephen so theyre like HAHA OKAY GANG ! GREAT DARE ! LETS HEAD BACK NOW ! and johnny lays awake in bed that night kicking his feet in the air

wizard prom in december. they dont go together because theyre idiots and not at that point where asking someone (each other) to wizard prom is something they can do. but they both break away from the crowd at similar times and end up hanging out most of the night, which jsabel gets in trouble with her grandpa for, but before then she has a lot more fun. they ditch the wizard prom hall and go romp around campus and the sports pitch and they Dont Talk About What Happened In September. they dont. its unspoken. if you bring it back up that means its real. oh hey wait hold on whats that. what is that. is that- oh damn its that one plant. with the- yeah its the winter holiday kiss tradition plant. where like if its over you you gotta kiss. yeah like on the mouth. wow that’s crazy. ahahahah damn well yknow it IS the rules so they should probably- cause yknow like, so they, yknow, yeah. yeah like with lips and stuff. man thats sooooo lame and sucky too bad the plant rules say we gotta :/ shoot that sure blows :/ crazy how this world works. cringe. anyway so about that ki- and then max walks in .2 seconds beforehand and ruins the moment and its funny because i like torturing him. max tells ksabel Hey Uh We Gotta Do The Closing Dance Okay Bye. spells broken though and she leaves they do not kiss. but theyre both left with the knowledge that the other person WANTED to enough that they were willing to exploit a cliche social tradition just to find an excuse for it.

im so tired i keep fading jn and out of consciousness writing this. isabels wizard fear monster (franciso) fucks her up pretty badly. she runs out of the classroom back to the wizard dorms, youll never believe who goes after to check on her. T 60k+ slowburn, hurt/comfort, fluff, pep talks, Decisions Made Under High Emotions (second kiss) (johnny initiated kiss) (isabel is getting kissed this time) (hes standing right behind me isnt he) max walks in on them again. isabel is bluescreening. johny promptly leaves. max her best friend max is like ‘i would like to stop always seeing you guys about to lip lock’ isabel wants to be swallowed by the ground. i cant finish this im so tired. look at my comprehensive au romcom plotlines boy

#paranatural #nain tag i dont. EVEN care !

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azure-trash · 8 months

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( Here it is! Let me know if you have any other songs that should be added https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0ALN2xqUCHlHU1frGd0471?si=YkwvIJLmRY2H-VmXsx5NCw )

Vanessa let out a breath, "Look these animatronics are.. different."

"Yeah, no shit. I can tell." Vinny scoffed as his back burned against the bandages he put on.

Vanessa didn't entertain him, "I know this is gonna sound..crazy but those animatronics are possessed by children's souls."

Vinny blinked, "Im fuckin sorry, what? Did I hear that correctly?" He ran a hand down his face, "Children's souls are..possessing those things in there?"

Vanessa just nodded and he just gave a crazed laugh, "I guess I landed on my head harder than I thought."

- FNAF Vinny anon

Vanessa pursed her lips,

“You saw them moving? How do you explain that?” Vinny shrugged,

“Faulty wiring or some shit,” Vanessa frowned, shaking her head,

“That’s not the result of faulty wiring, okay? Look, pick yourself up, I can patch you up if you’re hurt and then I can explain some more, okay?” Vinny breathed out a sigh, conceded. Nothing really left to loose, right?

Right.

“Where we going?” Vanessa turned, approaching her car,

“Just follow where I go. There’s a medical outpost nearby. We’ll be safer there and then I can help you with your injuries,” Vinny stuffed his hands in his pockets, pulling out his keys to let himself into his car, watching as Vanessa’s cop car pulled out. He breathed one last sigh and turned the car on, following her down the road.

Ghost children possessing robots. He mused. How absurd. Surely not.

He hated how much it made sense. Of course it wasn’t faulty wiring. His next assumption would’ve been maybe some insane hacker who had it out for him for some reason. No way he would’ve thought about ghost children. Maybe ghosts. But not ghost children.

He was definitely asking Vanessa about that when they got to wherever she was taking him.

(Also I’ll be going through my music to find songs for this AU. For now I don’t have anything, but rest assured, I will find songs to add cuz damn if I’m not invested)

#mine :)#asks

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sashi-ya · 3 years

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Hi may i request a one shot of ace x fem!reader where ace wokes up after the events of marineford, (au where he survives) and finds out her s/o sacrified herself for him, dying in the process. She was childhood friends with the asl brothers, so ace wakes up to a crying luffy telling him the news. I like angst im sorry😭

Hey! how are you?!. Thanks for requesting!! I wrote this little story, it's more on the short side - I usually write more words - yet for some reason I started crying on the middle of it haha, I guess I got too invested on the story 😅. I hope you like it even though it's a little short!. Thanks for reading! ~

PART 1 - Portgas D. Ace x F! Reader ~ Why isn't she here?

TW: ANGST 💔, suffering, blood 🩸.

WC: 607.

PART 2

“Ace… Ace, brother!!”, shouts Luffy. Ace is still severely injured, bedridden, tears running through his freckled cheeks. He's still asleep, perhaps having flashbacks of the… war. “L-Luffy…”, he says, opening his eyes violently, all of a sudden. “Ace… How are you? Does it hurt?”, his brother asks, desperately, also injured, but sitting next to him.

Multiple marks cover Ace’s skin. A big one over his heart it’s about to become one that skin will not ever repair… a scar, deep IN his heart. Ace tries to incorporate, but he fails. He is weaker than ever, it hurts, it hurts like hell.

“Where… where is she?” he asks, gasping for air. Luffy cries, Luffy tries to tell him, but Luffy can’t speak. He doesn’t want to be the one who hurts his brother forever, but he has to. “Luffy…where is she? Is she ok?”, he asks once again, and his voice begins to crack. Ace already knows, but he just prefers to think it was just a dream.

Luffy stops crying and remembers about Ace telling them “stop being a crybaby, I hate crybabies”, he also remembers when she used to stay with Ace when he felt alone, when he hated his father… “Ace… she… didn’t make it…”, Luffy says straight to him.

“What do you mean? What do you mean she didn’t make it? where… Where is she? you are lying… where is she?!”, Ace shouts. “She is dead, Ace… She died protecting you, if it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t be here”, Luffy tells him, trying to stop his tears from coming out.

Ace’s heart broke in a hundred pieces, and the little hope he still had seems to go away. His eyes became blurred with tears that couldn’t be stopped. He screams so loud, enough to be heard from the very opposite side of the island.

This time he stands up, pulling energy from who knows where. He runs through the little house, opens the door, and sees a big sea ahead of him. They were on the coast of Amazon Lilly. All the cables, all the bandages he had on his body fell to the floor.

He kneels, hitting his already bruised knees and hands on the ground. “Why her and not me? I couldn’t tell her how much I love her”, he shouts to the horizon. Every single injury begins to bleed, the ground receives thick red drops that won’t stop flowing… and with every single drop, Ace feels his life slowly fading away, his lover, the love of his life, his best friend, is gone. And all because of him, because of being the son of Gol D. Roger... Damn him. “She gave me back my will to leave, Luffy… it’s not fair… Luffy, Luffy, it's not fair!!!”

Luffy hugs his brother so tight, trying to calm him down, but mostly because he knows this is tearing his insides apart… “Why couldn't I protect her? Why was she there? Luffy, oi Luffy, why is she dead? Who killed her?” he asks, crying, coughing some blood. “I’m sorry brother… she... she interposed between you and Akainu… she… she received the whole fist…”. Ace looks at his brother, with fire in his eyes. He doesn’t need to speak to swear revenge… Akainu will pay... the whole Marine will.

Ace slowly closes his eyes and loses consciousness again, falling over Luffy’s arms. “I’m sorry brother, I’m really sorry…”, says Strawhat while caressing Ace’s head, hurt by the loss of his friend, but relieved to still have his brother breathing on his arms… “Don’t worry, Ace… I’m sure Sabo will take care of her up there…”

#portgas d ace #portgas d. ace #portgas d. ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace imagine #fire fist ace #ace x reader #ace x you #one piece #one piece x you #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece fanfiction #ace fanfiction

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yami-kada · 3 years

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Mission 2

Recently I read a fanfic on AO3 called Interlude - Class 1-A by @itslivybear and was inspired a bit to write a fic based on that! Well really I got inspiration for a single line (you'll know it when you see it) and then had to write a whole thing to be able to share that one line, but oh well. This is my first time writing a chatfic or even any BNHA content at all, so I hope it doesn't suck! Thanks to @shadesofflame for being an awesome beta!

(Quick FYI in this AU M*neta and Bakugou are replaced with Shinsou and Monoma, sorry for any confusion. Also a name guide can be found at the bottom.)

RockSolid: Um, so.

RockSolid: Remember the missions during the Sports Festival?

PurpleGrape: Oh hell yeah.

PurpleGrape: Still cherish the look on that bastard's face.

Spoderman: jehxgjc Kiri I got it on video!!!

JazzHands: You've had video of the capture of the bounty this whole time and never showed us???

LSD: I thought we were friends Sero!

Spoderman: omg no not that I totally would have shared earlier if i did

Spoderman: im talking about That.

RockSolid: no Sero don't tell them!

RockSolid: it's embarrassing!

PikaCHU: Tell us, tell us!

NYOOM: Kaminari-kun! If Kirishima-kun wishes to keep his privacy, then it is our duty as his classmates to respect that!

Spoderman: ok but consider: he already gave them a major hint and they are about to POUNCE

BreadIsPain: As a witness as well, I must say that Kirishima was si attirant que j'ai failli m'évanouir~*

RockSolid: thanks, I think?

MOMo: To paraphrase Aoyama, he is essentially saying you were very manly, Kirishima!

RockSolid: aw thanks bro!! Don't believe you but thanks!

Spoderman: you take that lack of confidence back I have evidence right here that says you are super fucking manly!

LSD: ok please now we have to know so that we can show Kiri how great he is!!!

MOMo: I must admit that the commentary seen thus far has me rather curious as well.

RockSolid: You guys…

RockSolid: alright then, I'll tell you!

Spoderman: sweet ill pull it up!

RockSolid: bro don't you dare! my story, I get to tell it!

Spoderman: oh yeah of course bro!!

Spoderman: but if after you wanna show it then i am READY.

JazzHands: This is very sweet and all but I am very thirsty for this TEA.

RockSolid: on it!

Kirby: Kiri you've been typing for so long that I'm getting Izuku vibes here.

GreenGrape: Hey!

RockSolid: sorry! this is harder than I thought!

Spoderman: want me to start it off?

RockSolid: you know what, sure.

Spoderman: aight so,

Spoderman: Council, what qualifies as capturing the bounty?

GreenGrape: Guys no the bounty is over please no more bounty-hunting Kacchan.

MOMo: Your objection is noted and overruled, Izuku.

MOMo: For your question, Sero, I do not believe we ever set specific limitations on what qualified, but I was under the impression that it was limited to the Sports Festival. Why do you ask?

Spoderman: just double checking

Spoderman: because my bro here just totally shot both missions out of the park!!!

LSD: gaSP!!!

JazzHands: bOTH?!

RockSolid: no not both!! we have no confirmation for either, technically!

Kirby: Technically? What do you mean by that?

RockSolid: ahhhh ok so Sero and I were eating lunch in the courtyard because it was nice out, right?!

RockSolid: and we were chillin, being bros, birds were singing, all was good.

RockSolid: and then we heard a small explosion before the bounty walked in at the other end of the courtyard and started kicking at the wall.

PikaCHU: omg so angy.

RockSolid: and like fine, we can tune him out, just try to act like he's not there, you know?

RockSolid: But then he started yelling at random people in the courtyard, just acting pissed as hell.

PikaCHU: oMG so ANGY.

RockSolid: and that's just not manly at all, you know? going off on people like that just because you're in a bad mood.

GreenGrape: Yeah… that's Kacchan for you.

RockSolid: so he's making his way around the courtyard now, like everyone needs their daily dose of asshole for him to be happy, and the closer he got the more annoyed I got.

Spoderman: here it comes!

RockSolid: and eventually I get up, because I have had just about enough, and walk right up to him.

RockSolid: he doesn't see me coming, because he was too busy yelling at some girl, and I get right up behind him.

RockSolid: and then I just called out to get his attention, and spun him to face me while making sure I end up between him and the girl.

RockSolid: and well I told him off a little bit and got him to back off then left in a hurry.

RockSolid: and that's it!

Spoderman: oh no you don't

BreadIsPain: Oui! Monsieur Kirishima, you must tell the climax with just as much zest as the build-up!

Spoderman: what he said! no skipping out on the best part!

RockSolid: but!!!

Jacked: No buts, mister. We're all way too invested now for you to back down.

RockSolid: :(

RockSolid: fine! you win!

RockSolid: so uh when I got his attention, I also got my hand onto his shoulder, and used his surprise to knock his feet a bit off balance and pulled him back, but then I ended up with him in my arms and could tell he was about to start yelling so I just…

RockSolid: you know…

RockSolid: flirted?

LSD: oh my GoD this is great!!!

PikaCHU: Hell yeah Kiri! Go get yourself a manz!

RockSolid: I'm not getting a man! He's probably going to kill me the next time he sees me!

Spoderman: i dunno, it took him a good long while to reboot after what you said there

Spoderman: you might have a shot

PurpleGrape: Well if you're not going to get a man out of this, mind telling us what you said so I can bait him next time he tries to be an ass?

RockSolid: uhhh…

RockSolid: I'm nervous.

BreadIsPain: If you will allow me, I shall finish your tale off dazzlingly!

RockSolid: Thanks Aoyama.

BreadIsPain: Bien entendu!

BreadIsPain: While holding him in his arms tightly in a dip, faces inches apart, Monsieur Kirishima leaned impossibly closer to emphasize his point.

RockSolid: oh god I regret everything.

LSD: Hush, it's getting good!

BreadIsPain: With a growl to his voice and his eyes burning above a smirk, he said "You know, you're damn cute when you're angry, but you'd be downright sexy if you shut the fuck up." Then he straightened up to fling the lost soul to the side, and saunter off like the devil was guarding his back, leaving the bounty terribly confused in his wake.

PurpleGrape: Whoa.

PikaCHU: Holy shit?!

RockSolid: what is that description?!?!?!

JazzHands: Kiri that was PERFECT oh my god?!

LSD: It's ART is what it is!

Spoderman: don't forget how red the guy was! Kiri was cool as a cucumber but the other guy couldn't stop blushing after seeing his face!!!

MOMo pinned a message

RockSolid: Yaomomo!!!

MOMo: My apologies, Kirishima, but I felt it only right to ensure easy access to your most manly moment.

LSD: Yeah Kiri! Then one day we can all look back on this and celebrate how everything started!!

RockSolid: How what started???

LSD: E v e r y t h i n g

RockSolid: @Spoderman bro hide me I’m scared.

Spoderman: hey guys, wanna see a GREAT video?

Spoderman: the stars are our main man, Kiri, and the bounty!

PikaCHU: hell yeah!!!

Jacked: Lay it on me.

PurpleGrape: Sure.

JazzHands: Do you really have to ask????

RockSolid: but I already told you what happened!

RockSolid: why do you want to see me being so embarrassing?

PikaCHU: bro we all appreciate you so much of course we want to see you being manly!

LSD: Just from what you all said there is no way you don’t look great in that vid, Kiri!

PikaCHU: gotta give support where support is due!!

PurpleGrape: They’ll all bully Sero into showing them one way or another anyways, might as well give in now.

RockSolid: but...

BreadIsPain: Nous devons vous montrer à quel point vous brillez et dissiper ces pensées douteuses!**

MOMo: I could not have said it better myself, Aoyama!

RockSolid: I don’t even know what he said though?!?!?!?!?!?!

Spoderman: Kiri.

Spoderman: Bro.

Jacked: Well shoot he’s using proper grammar and everything.

Spoderman: Rude.

Spoderman: Anyways Bro.

RockSolid: yeah?

Spoderman: You are epic. This video shows you being epic. And putting an asshole in their place.

Spoderman: You have nothing to be ashamed of, and every reason to be proud. So please let me show the video so that everyone can appreciate you like you deserve bro.

RockSolid: bro…

Spoderman: Bro.

RockSolid: bro -

Spoderman: Bro?

RockSolid: bro!

Spoderman: aight everyone down to the common room its up on the big screen

Spoderman: i have popcorn too

Jacked: Not even gonna question that.

LSD: Finally!!!

JazzHands: Yuss!!!

BreadIsPain: Je vais regarder avec enthousiasme!***

MOMo: As will all of us I’m sure, Aoyama!

RockSolid: Thanks guys!

RockSolid: Now get down here and watch me maybe get a man!

Translations:

*so attractive that I almost swooned.

**We must show you how much you shine, and dispel those self-doubting thoughts!

***I shall excitedly watch!

Guide to names:

GreenGrape - Izuku

PurpleGrape - Hitoshi

CopyCat - Monoma Neito

MOMo - Yaoyorozu Momo

datBoi - Asui Tsuyu

JazzHands - Hagakure Toru

NYOOM - Iida Tenya

SnowWhite - Kouda Kouji

LifeIsPain - Tokoyami Fumikage

BreadIsPain - Aoyama Yuga

Kirby - Uraraka Ochaco

LSD - Ashido Mina

PikaCHU - Kaminari Denki

RockSolid - Kirishima Eijiro

RipHarambe - Ojiro Mashirao

IcyHot - Todoroki Shoto

MuffinMan - Sato Rikido

Octodad - Shouji Mezou

Jacked - Jirou Kyoka

Spoderman - Sero Hanta

#my writing #boku no hero academia #BNHA #fanfic #humor #kiribaku #chat fic #inspired by fanfiction #my hero academia au #my hero academia #crack fic #just slightly #had to redo the formatting because Tumblr removed it :/#probably ooc but oh well I tried and had fun

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tuanhood · 4 years

Text

hypnotic | part one

paring: vampire!im jaebeom x reader

genre: angst, eventual smut (part two), vampire au

warnings: language, cringey vampire cliches i’m sure

word count: 9,800+

summary: jaebeom has been waiting 200 years to find his mate - the one who can break his trance and isn’t affected by his hypnotic abilities. You don’t seem to be that person, but he just can’t seem to get you out of his mind… why?

a/n: hello guys! so i originally had this planned to post tomorrow (the 30th) but it was so long i decided to split it up and post one part today and the other part on the 31st! This first part is mostly Jaebeom and not a lot of Y/N but SO BE IT. This is also my first time writing in the genre of vampire/fantasy loL so please forgive me because it’ll probably be cringe and not make sense. if that’s the case lol drop me a message!! also vampire jaebeom was requested FOREVER ago. so here it is practically 3 decades later. and i attempted to make a banner. if someone can make me a better one it’s v much WELCOME.

part two

Knock Knock Knock

He wished he could just pretend like he was asleep. He wished he could use that as an excuse to not answer the door, but based on the very strong feeling he was getting from who was behind it – that wouldn’t work.

“I know you’re in there! Just answer the damn door Jaebeom!”

Jaebeom rolled his eyes, leave it to Bambam to be at his front door before the day even had a chance to truly begin. Before letting him in, he went through all the possible things or excuses he could use to get out of whatever his younger friend had in mind.

“Is your vintage YSL here or is it still at the dry cleaners?” Bambam asked, pushing past Jaebeom as soon as he has the door partway open.

Gruffly, Jaebeom turned back into his apartment to Bambam already halfway to his bedroom – no doubt to look through his closet, “What are you doing here Bam?”

“What does it look like? I’m here for the vintage YSL asshole!”

He’s learned by now that it’s better to let him do his thing – whatever that may mean. So instead of following Bambam, he plopped down onto the same couch he’s had for nearly 15 years. “You know when I first bought that shirt it wasn’t considered vintage!”

Jaebeom waited for a response, but instead, he was met with silence. After a few moments – many of them thinking about how maybe it was time to replace the couch – he felt his “vintage” YSL button-down hit him in the face.

He groaned; the impact was surely going to create wrinkles in the material he tried to keep in pristine condition. It was ironic since he was often heard making fun of how much Bambam cared about clothes, but Jaebeom liked to keep his things nice. “Bam I just got it back from getting cleaned a couple of days ago.”

“Put it on.”

The tone of his friend’s voice seemed rather impatient. If he had closed his eyes, Jaebeom would have thought he was talking to Jinyoung or even himself.

“Why do I need to put it on? It’s 8 in the morning; where are we going?”

“Um excuse me? Did you forget what day it was? Now come on, we’re meeting Jinyoung at that new café down the street in fifteen.”

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, trying to picture the café on the mental map he keeps in his mind, “the one that used to be a video store in the 90s?”

Bambam made his way into the living room, picking up a few glasses that rested on the coffee table Jaebeom’s feet were on top of, and marched over to the small kitchen. Jaebeom has lived in this apartment more years than he’d like to admit, especially because enough time had passed that the neighbors he had were clearly aging and he just stayed 26. The thought of moving somewhere new often enters his mind, but with this place, he just can’t bring it in himself to go quite yet. It’s almost as though something is tying him to this city, this place – like he’s waiting for something.

“Yes, and a speakeasy in the 20s both of which are not important right now because we live in the 21st century Jaebeom. Now come on, Jinyoung’s waiting – that asshole is always early.”

He heard Bambam mumble something along the lines of known him 100 years, would it kill him to just be on time for once, as he furiously dropped the glasses on the kitchen counter.

“Do I have to go?”

Bambam paused his motions of putting Jaebeom’s dirty dishes into the sink to stare the older vampire down, “Jaebeom you only turn 200 once.”

He scoffed in response, “Jesus don’t remind me.”

“We have to make a whole day of it! So please just put the shirt on, because I want you looking presentable,” he stopped in the middle of his sentence, suddenly wiggling his eyebrows, “you never know what could happen.” The final word is drawn out, almost sing-song like and it drives Jaebeom up the wall because he knows exactly what Bambam is referencing.

For Jaebeom and those like Jaebeom, they didn’t consider the day they were born as their birthday, but instead as the day they turned. There was no point in celebrating their birth anymore as they were no longer alive. However, at this point after 200 birthdays, – alive and dead combined - Jaebeom was beginning to believe that there was no point to those either. He always knew being immortal was a curse but day by day that idea was only solidifying itself in his mind.

Jaebeom let out a gruff breath which only made Bambam look up from the fork he was scrubbing, “Bam I don’t know what you think is going to happen today… but it certainly isn’t that.”

The “that” he was referencing was one of the main factors that as of late had made him feel like living forever was indeed a waste. It was the thing that was supposed to make him feel “complete.” According to old texts and traditional vampire folklore, he was now walking around half full, but once he met his mate, he would become whole. At first, he didn’t believe the tale. He had gotten by so far without a mate that the idea of him not being complete made him laugh. But watching both Bambam and Jinyoung find their mates – Bambam 70 years ago and Jinyoung 16 years ago – made him finally acknowledge and reflect on the piece of himself he was missing.

And fuck he was lonely.

Bambam chuckled at him as if being in on his own personal joke. His friend was strange like that sometimes, “just put the shirt on Jaebeom.”

By the time he’s had the shirt on and Bambam has somehow convinced him to let him wear his Rolex he got as a gift from his friend Jackson in 1920, Jaebeom feels mentally prepared to leave the house and embark on this dreadful day. The reminder that he has now been around for 200 years and still is not whole.

“Finally,” Jinyoung sighed when Jaebeom and Bambam finally reached the café down the street, “I’ve been waiting 20 minutes.”

A disgruntled Bambam checks his watch, “well if you don’t want to wait every single time, don’t be so fucking early,” he promptly turned to Jaebeom to share his grief regarding their friend, “you think he would learn after all this time.”

“Let’s just go order,” Jaebeom shrugged, not caring to be in another disagreement between his longer than life friends.

“Be honest you’re early on purpose just so it gives you something to complain about and a reason to make us feel bad!”

Jinyoung ignored Bambam’s theory, replying to the oldest, “no need. I already ordered for the three of us. It’s a special day, the birthday boy doesn’t need to pay,” he glanced at Bambam, “you on the other hand…”

The two new arrivals, flop down into the sofa chairs on either side of Jinyoung, along of them situated to make a half-circle in front of a low coffee table. The three of them had somehow stuck into this… pattern. Years of friendship that contained years of Bambam/Jinyoung squabbles that Jaebeom would often have to mediate. Patterns were nice, but sometimes they would get old – especially after so long.

As the two of them argue over whether or not Bambam should pay Jinyoung back for a simple iced Americano because Bam swears he got the drinks the last two times, Jaebeom looks over to the counter where the baristas work on – no doubt – the plethora of orders they have. The factor of the café being new has certainly been the cause of the popularity and amount of people in the shop. He can’t help but feel bad for the individuals working on the drinks – three years ago he had been one of them for roughly 18 months and knew that it wasn’t as easy as it appeared to be.

In retrospect, Jaebeom didn’t have to work. He had so much time to learn and understand what it meant to be financially responsible. Not only that, but he’s literally had hundreds of years to save. Plus, his early investments in companies ended up landing him some pretty substantial and valuable shares. Jaebeom was sitting on quite the pretty penny.

“Wow your portfolio is remarkable… I’ve never seen one like it,” his latest financial advisor had said to him in complete awe, “I mean an early investor in Amazon? Apple? Mastercard?”

Jaebeom had laughed nervously, “What can I say? My grandpa had good intuition, I guess.”

Money aside, he had wanted something to do with his time – hence his barista job. It was fun, but like most things, Jaebeom just grew tired of it and as he watched the girl working the espresso machine let out an exhausted breath, he realized that he wasn’t missing it.

Jaebeom has become good at studying people. It was something he still wasn’t sure of whether it was a vampire thing or just something he had picked up over time. Watching the girl at the machine, her hair is in a low bun, a few strands falling in front of her face. It’s clear with the way the hair tie is situated, that the hairstyle was once a bit neater, tighter, and sat at the middle or even top of her head. However, the now fallen placement and slight disarray signal how busy she’s been working and how fried she must be feeling.

He looks to the string bracelet on her wrist, visible from far away enough for Jaebeom to conclude that she must have someone in her life deemed important to wear one of those “friendship” bracelets. He never saw the point, but humans were strange creatures, despite him once being one.

Jaebeom’s breath hitches when he catches sight of the delicately drawn tattoo on her wrist near the bracelet. It’s of lavender and it immediately reminds him of his mother who had loved exploring the lavender field that had been near his home when he was a child. Despite all the time that has passed since he lost his mother, the pain that aches inside of Jaebeom when he thinks of her isn’t any less.

His thoughts are interrupted by the call at the coffee bar, “Order for Jinyoung.”

The call comes from the overworked girl he had been studying and Jaebeom wants more than anything to stand up and retrieve their orders. He finds a weird want to hear what her laugh sounds like. Maybe he could say something or strike up a conversation that would-

“What are you doing?” It takes Jaebeom a moment to notice that he has partially stood up from his chair as if he’s about to go somewhere. Cluelessly, he replied, “going to get the drinks.”

The youngest shook his head, “No way! Birthday boys don’t get their drinks, they don’t lift a finger.”

He knew Bambam was one to take birthdays seriously, but this was beginning to feel like it was going the extra mile too many.

“I’ll get it.”

Jaebeom watched Bambam get up to retrieve the drinks. He expects him to just grab the drinks and return to the table, but instead, Bambam says something to the girl. Arching his neck to the side, he tries to make a clear path to eavesdrop on what’s being said, hearing being one of the benefits of turning. Unfortunately, the café is too loud for him to focus on the conversation and he’s defeated by the fact that he’ll have to stay in the dark.

The girl laughs loudly at something Bambam said and Jaebeom can’t help but feel mixed about it. On one hand, he got his wish – hearing her laugh – but on the other hand, he wasn’t the cause of it. For some reason it makes him bring his clench and unclench his fists which rest on the arms of the sofa chair. Jinyoung takes notice.

Jaebeom quickly looks down at his lap when he senses that Bambam is returning to where they’re sat, not wanting to give away that he had been staring. First, he places Jinyoung’s and his drink on the table, soon turning back around to go back and fetch the last drink – Jaebeom’s.

When he comes back, Jaebeom looks up to see a large grin spread across the youngest’s face. He has that look again – the one as if he knows a joke Jaebeom doesn’t.

The latter nodded his head in thanks for getting the drinks as he inspects his green tea on the table. Just as he’s about to pick up the mug, he’s stopped in his tracks by an announcement coming from the coffee bar.

“Hello everyone! Sorry for the interruption, but I’ve been told that we have a birthday here today,” you said. Giving announcements wasn’t your strong suit, but you figured now that you were an actual owner of something, you were going to get over your shyness. But you didn’t think it was going to be that often that a tall, skinny and pale boy with a Rolex on his wrist would be asking you to get your coffee shop to sing happy birthday for his friend. Even when you were a barista working for someone else no one had made such a request. This was a café after all, not an Applebee’s.

Jaebeom wished more than anything that he could sink into his seat and just disappear. If only that cliché that vampires turned into bats were true, then he could just fly away at a moment’s notice. Leave it to Bambam to torture him like this. It wasn’t intentional of course, but it certainly felt like it to Jaebeom.

It was especially tragic to him because the girl he had been studying was the one leading the entire café in singing “Happy Birthday.” He did his best to avoid looking at her, feeling like his entire body was heating up in embarrassment even though he couldn't heat up.

You on the other hand felt a little insulted by the birthday boy’s lack of eye contact. You hadn’t even managed to get a good look at him before you started singing and now it was not possible with the way that he was looking down at the ground, his long hair falling in front of his face, concealing itself to you. It wasn’t difficult to conclude that he felt awkward about a bunch of strangers he had never met singing him happy birthday, you had felt the same whenever your friends tried to ambush you on your birthday… but you at least looked up and acknowledged the presence of the people singing. A tight smile from this guy would even be happily accepted.

When the song is over and the claps that follow finally subside, he looks up to see the café back at its previous state of normalcy, not a single person looking at him anymore. Jaebeom lets out a sigh of relief.

“You could at least act like you liked it,” Bambam huffed in annoyance. He wished Jaebeom could appreciate the idea of birthdays like he did.

“I really didn’t need to be the center of attention today Bam.”

“But it’s your bir-” Bambam begins to explain, but Jaebeom abruptly cuts him off, not wanting to hear his reasoning for today’s antics, yet again. The day hadn’t even started.

“My birthday, I know. Thanks for reminding me.”

Jinyoung clears his throat and plays with the spoon that came with his Flat White. Just as Jaebeom is the mediator for Bambam and Jinyoung, sometimes Jinyoung has to be the mediator for Jaebeom and Bambam. Essentially the commonality in the disagreements of their trio friendship is Bambam and currently, Jinyoung feels as though he should route the conversation elsewhere.

“What else is in the cards for tonight then boys?”

It’s then based on the look on Jaebeom’s face, that Jinyoung thinks that maybe talking about the plans for tonight – on Jaebeom’s birthday – isn’t re-routing the conversation. Especially since it’s Bambam’s whose eyes light up and is the one to reply to him.

“Obviously we’re going out tonight,” Bambam paused and turned to Jaebeom, wagging his finger in the latter’s face, “there’s no way you’re getting out of this. I’m not taking no for an answer this time.”

Jaebeom rolled his eyes and didn’t respond as he knew he didn’t have a choice in the matter. He had rejected Bambam’s invitations to go out consistently for the last 6 months and on his birthday of all days, Bam was going to force him out of the house just as he had done this morning to come to the café.

He looks back to the front counter, his eyes searching for the barista who has now suddenly disappeared. A frown begins to make itself known on his face, feeling a bit disappointed by the fact that she may have left already or gone elsewhere, but soon she’s popping up from behind the counter, no doubt getting something from the cabinets below. Jaebeom feels relief.

“What did you say to her?” he asked suddenly looking back at Bambam.

He cocked his head to the side, confused, “What did I say to who?”

“The barista behind the counter.”

His friend nodded his head slowly, suddenly realizing what Jaebeom means. A smirk appears on his face, “nothing much… Just how it was your birthday and it would be really good if we could all embarrass you by singing about it. She’s not a barista, by the way, she owns the place. Kinda backward thinking there Jae. It’s the 21st century, women can own things now, they can vote.”

“I know that,” Jaebeom hissed.

Bambam puts up his hands in defeat, “I’m just making sure.”

“Don’t you know her?” Jinyoung asked, “isn’t that why we came here?”

Jaebeom’s interests are perked. It’s not often that the three of them meet new people. It’s not like there’s a huge point to it. The last new person the three of them met was Mark – also a vampire – a bartender at their favorite club in the city, but that was in 2007.

He waits for Bambam’s explanation as to how he knows this girl and why they came here specifically beside it just being near Jaebeom’s apartment.

Waving his hand nonchalantly, the Thai boy gives his answer, “I don’t really know her. Minji does. Met her in some kind of class, I think. SoulCycle? Pilates? Zumba? I don’t know. I can’t keep up with her and her activities these days.”

Minji is Bambam’s mate. He had turned her only a month after they met.

Jaebeom’s not sure what he would do if he met his mate. He doesn’t know if he would want to subject them to turning and living the same kind of life as him, but he also doesn’t know if he could continue life alone after meeting his mate. If he ever meets them.

“Why the curiosity?” Jinyoung asked, for once finding it hard to remain stone-faced. Even his usual chill, non-revealing demeanor seems to fade away when it appears that his older friend might be attracted to someone.

Jaebeom simply shrugged, “it’s nothing…”

“What do you think? Could she be the one?” Bambam asked teasingly, pointing to the girl behind the counter.

Jinyoung rolled his eyes almost immediately at the younger boy, “if you’re going to keep bothering him about it, don’t make it so obvious idiot.”

Jaebeom had been alive – or more like undead – for 200 years and more than half of that time he had to listen to this same conversation from his friends over and over again. His patience was wearing thin and 180 years later, he was tired of their pestering.

He leaned forward slowly and grabbed his green tea off the table, making sure to visibly flinch at the heat of the drink, Bambam, and Jinyoung chuckling at his reaction. Out of the three of them, Jaebeom certainly had the most practice when it came to “putting on a show” for the humans and “acting” the most human. Taking a sip, he looked back at the girl behind the counter.

The youngest vampire had spent many of their outings and conversations hypothesizing who Jaebeom’s mate could be. Despite being the oldest of the three, Jaebeom was the only one left who still hadn’t found his mate and he was beginning to feel hopeless. Typically, Bambam pointed out any human girl as a candidate – all of them of course ended up not being his mate. Therefore, Jaebeom didn’t pay attention to his picks anymore, but he had to admit… He did get a strange feeling from the girl behind the counter.

Jaebeom looked to you, hoping to catch your gaze as you quickly made the coffee orders for the few people waiting to the side of the cash register. Just when he was about to give up and focus his attention back on his friends, you tore your concentration away from the drink in your hand and looked up at him from across the cafe.

Jaebeom focused his gaze deep onto you with his eyes – testing, checking, and trialing your focus. You didn’t look away, instead, you trained your eyes deeply into his and stared at him until finally, it was Jaebeom who broke the contact.

He shook his head at his friends, disappointed by your inability to break the trance and ultimately confused at the feeling he still got from you despite that.

Jaebeom took another sip of the tea, “it’s not her.”

“Did you have to debate that Uber driver on the Twilight franchise?” Jinyoung groaned at Bambam as soon as they’re out of the car.

The entire twenty-minute ride, he had got into a heated discussion with their driver on how Twilight was not “true” or realistic to most actual vampire folklore. It had been an excruciating thing to listen to.

“Got to stand up for our kind dude.”

“Okay, but what happens when she starts asking how you know all these things or why you’re so interested in vampire stuff?” Jinyoung tended to always be right. This wasn’t an exception.

Brushing off his pants, Bambam gives him a nonchalant wave, “chill out man. Everyone loves vampire stuff.”

“Maybe in 2008,” Jaebeom said just barely loud enough for his friends to hear them. The two of them laughed, Bambam shoving him playfully on the shoulder, “Birthday boy getting funny on us.”

“I was always funny,” Jaebeom deadpanned.

“Funny and looking good tonight. Let’s get you laid, shall we?”

After a day that was jampacked full of various activities planned by his youngest friend, the last thing Jaebeom wanted to do was spend extra energy on trying to get some girl to come home with him tonight. Besides, he wasn’t that guy anymore.

Jinyoung scoffed, “he doesn’t need to get laid tonight.”

“Yes, he does! Jaebeom how long has it been?”

This time it’s Jinyoung that shoves Bambam’s shoulder – except it’s not all that playful.

“Fine don’t answer that, but I’m just saying there will be quite a few girls here that you can have your pick of, despite your plain outfit.”

Jaebeom looked at the clothes he had changed into when Bambam spared him a sliver of time to go back home to digress and feed his cats. The latter had wanted him to borrow clothes of his, but instead, Jaebeom decided on pulling pieces from his closet that felt more like him, less like Bambam. A plain pair of ripped jeans, an oversized black shirt that he had bought at a shop from his trip to London last year, and his mother’s necklace that often wasn’t missing from its spot around his neck.

Bambam’s earlier critique was that he was dressed too basic and that no girls would bat an eye at him. Girls don’t like plain guys, he had said. The comment makes Jaebeom wonder about you and whether you’d fall under the category of not liking “plain” guys.

He bites the inside of his cheek. It was probably the eighth time he had made himself do it today. Jaebeom had found his mind often drifting to you throughout the day for some unexplainable reason. During their walk in the park, he wondered if you would take strolls during your breaks from the café or when Bambam forced him to go paint pottery for an hour and a half he thought about what you would paint. It frustrated him because he hadn’t even spoken to you – not a word and yet you were clearly on his mind for one reason or another. It wasn’t even like you were his mate. He had tried to see if you were unaffected by his trance, his hypnotic capabilities, but you had just stared at him completely fixated just as everyone else was.

Jaebeom was not going to think about you any longer. He was already planning on avoiding your café.

“We’re on the list,” Bambam tells the bouncer when they arrive at the entrance of the club. He scans the list and motions his head towards the direction of the door to signal to the three of them to go on ahead. There’s a bit of a whine coming from the people waiting in line which admittedly so makes Jaebeom feel a little guilty, but Bambam ensures him it’s fine, “why have a friend who works at a club if we can’t use him for the perks?”

“Why does he keep bartending again?” As soon as the question is out of Jaebeom’s mouth he realizes it was a stupid thing to ask since the answer is apparent.

Bambam laughed at him, giving his long – irreplaceable he’d like to remind everyone – leather coat to the person at the front of the club. Jaebeom swears he hears him tell the coat check guy the “proper” way to put it on a hanger.

“Obviously for the girls Jaebeom.”

Mark’s mate – Hana had passed on a long time ago. Jaebeom had never got the chance to meet her, only hears about her in passing from some stories that Mark has told the three of them. He hadn’t turned her. Jaebeom’s never asked why.

“Girls… of course.”

He can’t help but think about how Mark must feel inside. Although Jaebeom doesn’t know him as well as he knows Bambam and Jinyoung, whenever he’s with the older boy he’s always got a smile on his face. Often quiet, but he’s always got certain energy bouncing off of him that would indeed make him popular with women. However, if what they say about mates is true, would that mean that a piece of Mark was now missing? Did he feel like he was less of a person? Jaebeom felt like that sometimes and he hadn’t even met his mate yet. Mark had his, but now he didn’t.

“Drinks?” Jinyoung asked the two of them and Jaebeom is partly surprised. Out of the three of them, Bambam was the one who was the most comfortable in a club or even bar setting. He figures that Jinyoung must be using his birthday as an excuse to cut loose and become someone else for the night.

Bambam instantly nodded his head at Jinyoung’s suggestion and Jaebeom finds himself trailing behind the two of them as they make their way over to Mark at the bar who is throwing his head back at something the girl across the bar is saying. Judging on Jaebeom’s intuition – it’s a bit fake and overplayed, but you got to do what you got to do.

“My man!” Bambam yelled over the music, leaning against the counter in a way to make sure he doesn’t get the elbows of his long sleeve turtleneck wet. Mark in response, turned to them and smiled, then routing his attention back to the girl, giving her an apologetic smile. Her half-smile says everything Jaebeom could need to know – this girl would not be going home with Mark after his shift tonight.

“What can I get you guys tonight,” Mark turned to Jaebeom and the latter can barely make out his sharp canines in the dark club, “birthday boy you want anything special?”

Before Jaebeom can reply that he wants to be at home, Bambam answers for him.

“Could we maybe get something that’s off the menu?” He wiggled his eyebrows at Mark who gave him a shit-eating grin, knowing immediately what he was talking about.

“Off the menu” meant Mark’s secret stash of O negative underneath the counter. While alcohol had the same effect on them that it had on the average humans, adding a bit of blood just made a little bit better. Okay… it made it a lot better.

“Three negronis coming right up,” Mark winked to give a little signal that these would most likely not be as well composed or put together as a negroni, but due to them being in public, he couldn’t necessarily announce a shit ton of alcohol mixed with human blood was going to be served up to them.

“How has your birthday been Jae?” Mark asked as he was in the middle of placing three glasses onto the countertop in between them.

It was difficult to explain since to Jaebeom it had just been another day except for a little bit more excruciating. The celebration of another year “older” filled him with thoughts of how much time has passed, whether he’s done anything truly important and why he still hasn’t found the person who is meant to complete him… but like he said only a little more excruciating than any other day.

Jaebeom shrugged in response, “Bam planned a lot and for the most part, it was…” he paused for a moment, wondering if he should say how he felt – numb, lost, and wishing the day would come to an end as if tomorrow won’t bring the same thoughts or problems. But as he looked at his friends who had tried so hard today to make him happy and celebrate, he decided to guard them against the ultimate truth, “for the most part it was fun – really good. I mean besides the singing at the café of course.” He throws in the last part to at least have some kind of believability to his story.

He notices Mark’s eyebrows lift out of curiosity as his concentration focuses on measuring out each part of the drinks, “An entire café sang you happy birthday? Damn, I don’t think I could ever get through that, so I can only imagine how you feel.”

“That was Bam’s idea,” Jinyoung muttered.

Once again, Bambam does his nonchalant waving of the hand, “it wasn’t that bad. I mean okay, maybe it was… But Jaebeom was obsessed with the girl who led it.”

Jaebeom suddenly feels like he wants to put duct tape over his friend’s mouth.

“I was not obsessed with her! I don’t even know her!” Jaebeom for some reason felt the need to defend himself, which was probably the worst option. Him getting defensive was usually a tell-tale sign for his friends being right on whatever they were confronting him with.

Bambam scoffed, bringing gliding his drink across the bar to be directly in front of him once Mark has poured it neatly into the short glass, “I noticed you staring at her before I went to get the drinks. That’s why I asked her to do it in the first place.”

“So, she doesn’t know Minji?” Jinyoung questioned.

The youngest takes his first sip and immediately lets out a hissing noise, signaling to Mark that it’s both strong and good. “No, she does, but Jaebeom’s weird staring only made it that much better.”

Mark pushed the other two glasses towards Jinyoung and Jaebeom, “Was she your…” he drifted off, almost as though he was finding it physically difficult to get the word out. Jaebeom can’t help but feel the want to reach his hand out towards Mark and place it comfortingly on his shoulder, but his group of friends don’t do that. Instead, he saves him the trouble by answering back right away, not forcing him to say it.

“No, she wasn’t.”

The bartender nodded slowly, suddenly avoiding his gaze from the three familiar boys across the bar from him, “That’s uh… too bad that she wasn’t able to break the trance. Sorry, Jaebeom.”

He knows that Mark is just trying to be nice, especially when they’re on a subject that he clearly can’t and doesn’t want to talk about, but the attempt to be comforting makes Jaebeom nauseous.

“Well maybe he’ll find her here tonight,” Jinyoung quipped, placing a hand on Jaebeom’s back. Sometimes the latter swore that his friends treated him he had just found out he had a terminal illness.

“I sincerely doubt it,” Jaebeom commented gruffly.

There’s a sound from the other side of the bar from a customer who seems fed up with the conversation being had between the four of them – distracting Mark from serving anyone else. He gives a signal to them to notify them that he’ll be there in a second. “Well… come to me if you guys need more drinks. It’s on me tonight.”

“Thanks, man,” Jaebeom tells him honestly because he might need a couple more drinks before he gets to the state of wanting to be in this room.

Mark said a final word of “see you guys later” and heads to the other end of the bar to help customers who have been waiting. Grabbing their drinks, Jaebeom, Jinyoung, and Bambam turn around to depart the bar, to find somewhere to sit for a bit before the drinks truly begin to hit them.

With his drink in hand, Jaebeom took a sip and reveled in the perfect balance of alcohol to burn his throat and blood to soothe it. The drink was probably the most relaxing part of his day thus far and as he looked out at the crowd, he could already tell that maybe the mixture was going to his head due to his sudden thinking that this place wasn’t all that bad.

Despite not being a club guy, if he were to go out, Jaebeom would always choose this club that Mark works out. To put it simply – it was vampire friendly. With Mark behind the counter and his “secret” supply free-flowing, it became a notoriously known place for vampires in town. If he had to guess, the attendance on an average night was probably evenly split 50/50, humans and vampires.

The humans weren’t aware of the vampires of course – for the most part.

Jaebeom cleared his throat once they’ve found a booth to sit in, “so… Bam what do you know about that girl?”

Both Jinyoung and Bambam exchange glances before looking back at the birthday boy. The latter tried his best to conceal the smile on his face, “not much… just that she owns the café, knows Minji, and is very single.”

For some reason, Jaebeom’s stomach does a little flip, but he wishes it wouldn’t. “S-So?” Through his stutter, he tries to remain as confident as possible, but his friends see right through his façade.

Jinyoung leaned forward until his elbows rest on the top of his thighs, “Jaebeom you can be honest with us… Why the sudden fascination with this girl? Are you sure she didn’t break the trance? Just with the way that you’re acting…” Jinyoung drifted off, not bothering to finish his final sentence, but once again looking at Bambam. It makes Jaebeom lean forward in his seat as well.

“With the way, I’m acting? I’m completely normal. I’m fine. She didn’t break the trance and now I’m just curious about her as curious as anyone would be about someone they meet.”

There’s the silence between the three of them until Bambam speaks up, “You didn’t meet her though.”

It dawns on Jaebeom that he didn’t even speak to you and he wonders why does it feel like he did. Why did it feel like he knew you but didn’t at the same time? Why haven’t his mind and body been cooperating with him since this morning at the café?

Just with the way that you’re acting…

The way he was acting? What did that mean? Was the way he was acting mean something specific?

He feels like he blinks and thirty minutes go by. And in that past thirty minutes, Jaebeom had somehow managed to drink 6 of Mark’s “negronis.” He felt like his head was beginning to get dizzy. It wasn’t often that Jaebeom found himself drunk on the verge of drunkenness due to alcohol not affecting him as much as humans. To even remotely get to that state, he had to drink a lot and it had to be strong.

“You feeling it Jaebeom?” Through the darkness and the haze of the alcohol, Jaebeom could barely make out the hint of the smile playing on Jinyoung’s face. He had switched to a glass of wine at some point while Jaebeom was binge drinking which had to be the most Jinyoung thing ever. Who drinks a glass of wine in a dark, sweaty club?

He’s afraid to answer him verbally which would give his friend an obvious sign of how he was feeling. So instead he just shrugged – as usual.

“Dude let’s get out there!” The youngest shouted, motioning his hands to the middle of the club, “dance… maybe find you a girl?”

Jaebeom watched the people pressing up against each other on the dancefloor, moving their bodies, and drinking like their lives depended on it. He wondered if he wanted to be a part of that. Everyone out there was so full of life and vigor… he just wasn’t. He also didn’t know if he was that drunk, but bless Bambam because he didn’t need alcohol to be out there.

For what feels like the millionth time, his mind drifted to you. Was this your kind of place? Would you come here? If you did would you come alone? With friends? Someone else? You didn’t seem like the type of person who would like this place. You seemed more like him – the observant, calm, inquisitive type who would much rather be at home with a book than at a party.

Then for a moment, he can picture it. It’s almost like he’s in a trance – an image of you curled up on a couch – his couch – under a large white cable knit blanket fills his mind. Rather than reading, your painting with watercolors – the kind that seems to be in every elementary school classroom – and he hears a voice out of view. His voice.

“Painting really?”

Jaebeom sees you glance up from your painting to look at him, smiling.

“Looks like I’m gonna have a lot of time on my hands so… might as well get good at something.”

Jaebeom hears himself laugh, “Okay but watercolors?”

He feels like he’s going to pass out when he finally hears it – your laugh.

“Let the artist work Im Jaebeom! She needs to get good enough to live off auction house money once her paintings get sold! Shh!” Despite your words, you smiled and suddenly moved the tools away from you onto the coffee table. You lifted half the blanket off of you and patted the space of the couch beside you, “you know I can’t say no when you give me that face. Come here.”

And just like that, the vision is gone. Jaebeom feels confused because it didn’t feel like a dream or fantasy, but it felt real… it felt like a memory.

“Hello, Earth to Jaebeom?”

Right… dancing. Maybe dancing would help him forget whatever game his mind was playing on him.

“Yeah let’s fucking go.”

Another instance occurs where Jaebeom blinks and everything moves so fast. Suddenly he’s no longer sat at the table with Bambam and Jinyoung, but instead in the middle of that mess on the dancefloor with everyone else. He almost feels like one of them. He almost feels human again. But as soon as that feeling washes over him, it quickly dissipates.

He knows it must be the drinks doing all the work, because otherwise, he would have never found himself in the middle of all these people, thinking that dancing is a good idea. Dancing had never done anything remotely good for him before, so why now? To help forget? Was it going to help him do that?

“I swear it’s like he’s not even here.”

Jaebeom tuned back into the moment, and it’s when he realizes that Jinyoung and Bambam have been trying to get his attention this entire time.

“Sorry I was just- the alcohol you know…” He says it so quietly that he knows his friends won’t be able to hear him over the music and the millions of conversations happening around them. But he thinks that maybe it’s better that way and that it truly doesn’t matter what he says.

Jinyoung comes closer to Jaebeom, until his mouth is right next to his ear, “we were just asking if there’s anyone that you’re interested in.”

They’re still on this idea? Jaebeom asked himself.

Even in his drunken state, he didn’t think that finding some random girl to fuck was going to help with the emptiness he’s been feeling lately, but for the first time since getting up and onto the dance floor he takes in the people around him. As depressing as it was to observe, most people were here with someone else.

It’s then his gaze falls onto a couple that stands far on the left side of the floor, behind where Jinyoung is standing. The two of them have their fronts pressed up against each other, dancing so closely with arms exploring one another’s bodies. The female has her head resting on the male’s shoulder as if she’s too exhausted to keep going, but can’t dare to part with him. It’s like they’re part of each other and any distance would cause them to lose all sense of themselves.

The girl lifts her head off the male’s shoulder and gives him this look that makes Jaebeom’s heart – if it was still beating – ache. She says something to him and he nodded happily in response. Even through the dim lights and large crowd, Jaebeom could see the sharp teeth inside her mouth.

She placed her head back against his shoulder, this time, however, the male had his head angled back, stretching out his neck. The girl moves in closer until her mouth just ghosts over the skin, breathing on it until the boy shuts his eyes awaiting the sting and pleasure that will come next.

Biting down against his flesh, breaking skin, the girl drinks from her partner. Even though he’s at a distance from them, Jaebeom can tell by the look on the man’s face that he’s enjoying being fed on and that it certainly isn’t his first time.

He feels like his eyes are frozen on the couple. It’s been so long since he fed off someone instead of the stuff that he gets from his connection at the hospital. Jaebeom tries not to think about the way his fingertips tingle and his throat dries up at the thought of drinking from a warm body. The alcohol has only dehydrated him and made him feel even more thirsty – he’s afraid that going back to the bar and asking Mark for a glass of O negative exclusively isn’t going to make that go away.

After a moment or two, the girl removes her mouth from the boy’s neck and drags her tongue over the spot where she had drawn blood from, ultimately covering the wound and signaling that she was done drinking.

He thinks of how risky it is to do that at a place like this. Although half of the people around them also take part in the activity of drinking blooding and granted most of them aren’t paying attention to those around them – there are still unsuspecting humans everywhere. If one wrong person were to see then that could be it for this club being a haven for the vampire community in the city and that would probably be… it for vampires in this city in general.

But who was he kidding? He was being a hypocrite because he’s for sure done the same thing.

You’ve once again entered his mind. However, this time it isn’t an image, picture, or vision that occupies his thoughts, but instead just the idea of how you would react to who he is, what he really is. Throughout his time that he’s been undead he’s only done the “reveal” to a handful of people and even then, it took him a long time to get there. Well except for one person who ultimately was a mistake and his friends hadn’t hesitated to let him know.

With you, Jaebeom felt that you wouldn’t be the kind of person to judge him instantly based on what he was. You would be shocked of course, maybe even scared, but you wouldn’t let that cloud your judgment. You wouldn’t let yourself reject something just because it was unfamiliar.

What the fuck was he on about?

It must be the alcohol doing this to him. He would have to thank Mark for making them strong this time around, but also make a mental note to never let this happen again. Jaebeom was already a deeper thinker, but this was getting out of hand.

There’s a sudden grasp of Jaebeom’s elbow and he feels himself jump at the sudden touch. His eyebrows furrowed when he realized it wasn’t one of his friends considering Bambam and Jinyoung were both dancing over to his right side.

When he turned around to greet the person who had grabbed him, he was disappointed, surprised, and annoyed all in one. It was the last person he had expected to see her, except not really because it made perfect sense.

“Jaebeom… hi.” Ara smiled shyly at him, tucking a string of hair behind her ear and slightly looking down at the ground. He wants to groan because he knows she’s doing this because he had once mentioned that he thought it was hot when she looked innocent. He shouldn’t have ever said that.

He’s not sure what to say, because what are you supposed to say to someone you’ve been trying to avoid for the past year and a half? Jaebeom had said everything he had wanted to say to her.

At one point in his life, he had been stupid. He had been stupid and he had abused the power that had been bestowed upon him since the day he had been turned. Perhaps one would assume that he’d been foolish with his ability just at the start – 100, maybe even 150 years ago. Instead, Jaebeom had gone through a rough patch about a year or two ago.

The overwhelming pressure of finding his mate had started to get to him again. All he needed was someone, anyone to break the hypnotic trance and that was it. A task that seemed so simple, yet never came. So, Jaebeom had used hypnotism to his advantage, getting as many girls as he could in his bed in the shortest amount of time possible. He wasn’t proud of it and it was something he would constantly regret as long as he was ali- around.

One of those girls… had been Ara.

Jaebeom felt relieved when she didn’t wait for him to answer back at her greeting, “How are you? I-It’s your birthday, right? How old are you turning again? 27?” She winked immediately after her question and he wants to roll his eyes.

She was the mistake by the way. The mistake that knew about who he was.

He doesn’t even remember how it happened, how his secret slipped, or what the circumstances of her finding out was. Part of him thinks he was just horny, thirsty, and weak, but she found out and she… loved it.

Weirdly enough, Ara loved the idea of him being a vampire and his “lifestyle” which at first Jaebeom didn’t think too much about. He thought okay she’s taking this extremely well… better than anyone else I’ve ever told, but whatever, but then it became strange.

She was what those in the vampire community call a “vampire fetishizer.”

He coughed awkwardly, his gaze wandering over to Jinyoung and Bambam, hoping they would catch sight of him stuck with Ara and come rescue him. Jaebeom wasn’t that lucky though, not even on his birthday, “Yeah… 27.”

Jaebeom can’t help but look at her neck. It’s fully on display and it was clear that Ara had come here to find someone to feed on her. He had been the one to show Ara this place before he had been clued into her little… vampire obsession.

“Well did the birthday boy get everything he wants today?” She smiled and gave Jaebeom those eyes. He feels his cock twitch in his pants and he realizes he has to keep himself in check because he’s not that weak tonight… right?

His eyes flash to her neck again and Jaebeom feels his throat get even drier. He was so thirsty and he knows Ara would be so willing.

No Jaebeom… No.

“I-I uh yeah… you know got- yeah today’s been good,” he stuttered awkwardly, bringing his tongue out to wet his dry lips. Judging on the look on Ara’s face, she’s taken the action the wrong way.

“You look thirsty Jaebeom… do you want a drink?”

He knows what she means and Jaebeom swallows hard in an attempt to distract himself, to remind himself that he’s not that thirsty. He doesn’t need it that bad.

“I-I think I am.”

The words come out faster than his brain can process to stop them and the part of Jaebeom that’s coherent, sharp, and aware wants to punch the weak and drunk Jaebeom in the face.

Without a word, Ara turned from Jaebeom and began walking to one of the exits at the side of the club. He feels like he’s the one in a trance, mindlessly following her through the people, not even hearing Jinyoung and Bambam calling out to him. The only thing that Jaebeom makes note of as he follows her is Mark’s face behind the bar, giving him a tight smile. It almost stops Jaebeom. Almost.

When they finally get outside through the exit door, they find themselves in a small alley between the club and a dry cleaner.

Jaebeom doesn’t even get a moment to think before Ara is pushing him against the wall of the dry cleaner, her hands roaming up and down his body, her lips going to his own. They’re pressed up against each other so closely that he recalls the couple he had watched earlier. He feels sick comparing this moment now to the two of them.

“Fuck I missed you so much,” Ara sighed seductively into this ear, making Jaebeom’s stomach churn further at her clear longing for him. Well not him, but the vampire part of him.

“Please, I need it,” she mewled. At her words, he almost puts a stop to this whole thing and has to question whether this is the right thing to do. Jaebeom wonders if this is old Jaebeom behavior – the one that just used women and threw them away later like toys, but then he remembers that this is Ara. She’s using him as well.

It’s almost as though that old, cocky, snide Jaebeom appears out of nowhere as he says his next words and brings himself closer to her neck, “do you really need it?”

“Yes, Jaebeom I do, please.” Ara already sounds so desperate and he’s barely done anything. He can’t help but smirk at her reaction.

“Then I guess I better give it to you then.”

He’s about to do it. He’s about to bite down and finally relieve his thirst, his craving, but then he looks to the side of the alley – towards the street. He feels like he’s seeing things again like he’s in the middle of a hallucination or mirage. That thought is pushed away when he locks eyes with you.

“Don’t mind me,” you placed your hands up in front of yourself, to show him you’re not eavesdropping. Your action frustrated you because it would have been much better to say nothing, but you felt yourself panic. The prolonged eye contact with him while he’s just seconds away from pressing down – bitting down? – on the girl’s next for some reason pushed you into defensive mode. Not to mention his eyes… his eyes were – red?

The girl hadn’t noticed you; you aren’t even sure if she heard you, but she certainly noticed Jaebeom’s stare fixated on you. When she faces you, she wears an unpleasant sneer, clearly annoyed by your interruption of whatever this was.

“Can you go?” She said, the agitation in her voice more than apparent.

Rather than immediately leave the scene, you continued to stare at Jaebeom. It’s difficult to say why you decided to walk this specific way home despite it being so late and dark out, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but be pulled in this direction. You weren’t someone who believed in signs or fate, but it felt so wrong to go any other way tonight. That was another thing, you felt this kink in your neck that practically forced you or taunted you into looking down the alley between this dry cleaners and club. It was yet another thing about today that felt unexplainable to you as you certainly weren’t expecting the birthday boy from the café today to be in a compromising position with some girl.

After a moment of more uncomfortable staring – something else that had happened at the café today with him – Jaebeom breaks your gaze and looks down at his feet. The eye roll and acrid look on the girl’s face don’t go unnoticed by you.

You shouldn’t be here.

“S-Sorry. I’ll just get going then,” you concluded, unsure why you felt an uncomfortable sickness spread throughout the entirety of your body.

You barely knew this guy – all you really knew was that today was his birthday and that he was friends with Minji’s boyfriend. Basically nothing. Yet now and even earlier back at the café you had felt this weird sensation within yourself. Not even when you looked at him, but just being in the same presence. It had been so hard to focus on making coffee today when he was seated across the room. Every part of your body just wanted to get closer, gravitate towards him. It was fucking weird… and scary.

The girl nodded as if to signal “yeah about time,” at the announcement of your departure. Jaebeom on the other hand, still had his eyes glued to the ground as if looking at you once again will cause him some kind of pain.

Just as you’re about to continue your trip back home, you stop yourself and look back at the couple in the alley.

“Happy birthday by the way…” you paused wondering if it would be weird to say his name considering he doesn’t even know yours, but you shove the thought out of your mind, “Jaebeom…”

Hearing you say his name causes that tingling feeling in his fingertips to come back and his entire mind is sent into a frenzy. He feels too awkward, too shy to look at you again, but a sudden thought washed over him. What if earlier was a mistake? What if you are his mate? With the way he was currently feeling just at you saying his name, the visions he had in the club and the nonstop place you know had in his mind, it was difficult to believe that you weren’t his mate.

Bambam and Jinyoung had found it difficult to explain to him what it felt like to find your mate, but surely what he felt right now wasn’t normal behavior or feelings. Unless he was a psychopath.

Tightly shutting his eyes and drawing together all his strength, Jaebeom aims to try once again to see if you can break the hypnotic trance, unaffected by his abilities. However, as soon as he’s finally ready, head turned up to face you – you’re gone. You didn’t wait for him to respond to the happy birthday message. Instead, you simply left not wanting to be a burden or troublesome to whatever it was those two were doing in that alley.

“Thank fucking god, let’s get back to it,” Ara concluded with a final roll of her eyes, gripping Jaebeom’s shoulders to get him close to her once again. He stares at her neck, but this time he doesn’t feel anything. He no longer feels thirsty and his appetite is gone.

Jaebeom shrugs her off slightly. The encounter with you has caused him to wake up and realize what a bad idea it would be to do this right now. He hopes that Ara won’t put up a fight – he doesn’t want to have to hypnotize her if he doesn’t need to.

At his actions, Ara takes a step away in disbelief, as if she actually can’t believe that Jaebeom is changing his mind and no longer wants her, “are you serious?”

He doesn’t say anything but instead avoids eye contact with her just as he had done for you.

Snorting, she glared at him, “Fine. Whatever. I don’t fucking care. I can find someone else to feed off of me. Yours never felt that good anyway. Asshole.”

Just like that, she’s out of his life once again and Jaebeom can’t help but feel thankful. He should have never been weak enough to be dragged out by here anyway. He had just been consumed by thoughts of you, alcohol, and the couple on the dancefloor. Then again, not coming out here would have robbed him of the opportunity of seeing you again and finding out that you actually knew his name.

That’s when it dawned on him.

Fuck… how much had you seen? What did you see?

Jaebeom realized that he might have some explaining to do

#got7 fanfic #got7 smut #im jaebeom fanfic #jaebeom fanfic #jaebeom smut

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themilky-way · 4 years

Text

toil and trouble

gif credit: toyboxboy

pairing: spencer reid x gn! reader

summary: soulmate au!: halloween only comes once a year, and what it brings around tonight is a little more than just scary movies and ghost stories. based on this ask.

warnings: none i think. pretty sure this is gender neutral reader so i labeled it as such :)

author’s note: THIS IS SO BAD AND SHORT IM SORRY BYE

----------

none of it had been planned. as much as the team persisted that it’d been garcia’s idea, it wasn’t truly anybody’s. to have a simple gathering amongst coworkers to celebrate halloween had been a unanimous decision, one that required the toughest of the toughest to fit themselves into a costume. rossi had proposed his apartment as the location seeing as most of his team’s reunions predominantly occurred there. penelope being her usual preppy self volunteered to decorate, and so she set off to hang orange fairy lights, spooky props with boisterous sound effects, and to throw in a touch of her own glam, a couple of glittery jack-o-lanterns.

the rest of the unit debated between their most normal choices, and for a while they were puzzled as to what might be the right pick, but the date came too quickly. on halloween night, hotch appeared at the doorway dressed in his traditional suit and tie, claiming to be “too busy” to fix up a costume, and shook hands with an italian renaissance painter, rossi. morgan invested his creativity in wearing a purge mask with all-black loungewear, while to accompany him came penelope as a cat. her faux whiskers aligned perfectly, her pink nose scrunching up at whatever corny joke rossi shared. then, her feline ears picked up the sound of her other two friends, and looking over, she came face-to-face with a ladybug and a fairy.

“oh, look at these pretty ladies! where did you get those wings?” she animately asked jj. “nevermind, not important-listen, stay away from morgan, he thinks he’s a murderer or something.”

“what?” emily chuckled. the three women turned to observe what garcia implied towards, and they all discovered said man- mask on and everything- hitting the italian bob ross with a foam stick of some kind. they couldn’t resist breaking out into fits of laughter, eyes glued to the scene before them. “is that a pool noodle?”

“yes, he’s bonking him,” garcia managed to voice. she reached out to grab a hold of each of her friend’s hands to guide them to the kitchen for drinks. still in the effects of what they’ve witnessed, emily grabbed four mugs out of a cherry-red, wooden cupboard-one of them for you, she’d pointed out-and placed them on the counter next to the stove. in the meantime, jj busied herself in making the hot chocolate in a large saucepan. “hey, do any of you guys want some?” one polite refusal came from her boss, and a couple grunts were heard from the men still fighting their dual. so, she continued her portions for her friends who had agreed, and although you still weren’t present, she’d added extra ingredients just in case.

soon enough, the delicious smell of her concoction started flowing across the apartment, the spicy tinges of cinnamon, mixed with the sweetness of the chocolate and sugar, were enough to settle any tricks at hand. garcia was finished organizing the desserts on a skeleton platter, indulging in one as she rested an elbow on the counter to observe her friend’s cooking.

“so, what’s in the cauldron, weird sisters?” you’d been sneaky enough to tread inside the kitchen without them noticing, rather odd considering they were supposed to notice a foreign presence. they’d each produced their very own distinct response: prentiss jumped up and reached for a nearby butterknife, jennifer dropped her spoon, and penelope choked on a crumb of cookie. “geez, relax! it’s just me, i swear!” you yelped.

“you have a mustache, who are you?!”

“you seriously don’t know- it’s me, for god’s sake!” confused by their newfound inability to actually recognize you, you removed the imitation hair on your upper lip along with your top hat. “see, i’m friendly.”

“young lady, do you want to make me go into cardiac arrest?”

“no, but it’s halloween, so why the hell not, huh?” that earned you a not-so-friendly punch from the analyst. “i’m friedrich nietzsche, by the way.”

the rest of the night flowed calmly. board games were brought out, popcorn was made, candy wrappers compiled in a large bundle in the middle of the circle-it was a familial setting, a warmth encircling the room as everyone participated in announcing eerie ghost tales or rolled their eyes at a silly dare. not everyone was exactly present, though; somewhere in the back of your head, there lurked a tiny worry surround spencer’s absence. if he really had turned down his invitation to come, he’d tell someone, right?”

“where’s reid-do you know?” you whispered to morgan, leaning in to the side to ensure your question’s safety.

“he’s running late. he should be here any minute,” the agent caught the expression of worry, a hint of disappointment lingering in your features at his response. being the teasing friend he was known to be, he continued, “why, you got a thing for him?”

“what, me? no, i don’t-i was just asking. just being a good friend.” he flashed you his infamous smile, one that knew what you truly felt despite your superficial attempts to disguise those feelings, but said nothing else.

eventually, it was your turn to refill the snack bowls. your suit fit loosely around your form to help you maneuver in the ways you needed to. at the moment, that was to stretch high enough to reach the top of rossi’s fridge, which was ridiculously tall compared to that man’s actual size. seriously, he was five inches shorter than you, how could he reach these damned boxes?

“here, let me help you.” you recognized it instantly, and what made you fall back wasn’t the voice’s spontaneity, but the hand that elongated to grasp whatever the hell you were there for. “here you go.”

struck by the sudden lack of speech, you looked at spencer up and down, then a few more times for further inspection before it hit you. bewildered by this-and you by his attire-the both of you widened your eyes and stepped back.

“you’re checking me ou-”

“-you’re friedrich nietzsche!” and alas, the young, oh-so-intelligent man took the liberty of scanning you over to observe your claim. it was as if he were looking into the mirror, minus the the ownership of his own fake facial hair and differing height.

“no way! are we-did we-?”

“he’s my favorite philosopher, i had to,” you clarified.

now aware he was still holding a box of cheez-it’s, spencer quickly handed it back to you, interlocking his hands behind his back in a nervous attempt to hide his coyness. “he’s my fav-uh-he’s my favorite, too,” he stuttered.

as much as you resisted not to, you beamed at his attempt to sustain his formality, and you didn’t really mind being dressed as a super-ideological crazy man from the victorian era because, well, he was dressed like one, too. he came forward to help you refill the plates once the awkwardness fled the kitchen, and amidst minor cleaning and trash-bag replacing, you learned he couldn’t find a mustache that resembled the one he wanted. the only right thing for you to do was offer yours to him, which prompted a neat rebuttal from reid, yet you kept insisting he take it until his only option was that.

on the way back, you sat alongside each other with penelope on your left and morgan on his right. unbeknownst to either of you, garcia tugged on your sleeve while morgan pulled on his ear.

“you know he’s your soulmate, right?-” she’d said to you.

“-pretty boy, you know what this means, right?”

and with the luminous rays of the full moon, and the fragrant aroma of autumn enveloping you both, you answered in hushed unison.

“yeah, i know exactly what this means.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #my writing!#spencer reid drabble

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hockeybabestars · 4 years

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august/september fic recs

since september is over here are my fic recs i’ve read over the past two months!! i know i’ve been a lil m.i.a lately but just wanted to let all you fic writers know you’re appreciated. much love <3

canucks

mornings with you - brock boeser by @prettyboybarzal : all i can say is SOFT. like puppy soft, melted butter soft. idk if this even makes sense but that’s how i feel. banter = perfect, and anything brock makes my heart stop. this was beautifully written.

mirrorball - brock boeser by @nolypats : okay the softest sweetest brock dad fic and it was frickin cute too. had me in a wave of emotions from laughing to crying. genuinely sweet please go read.

take my heart, i’ll give you my soul - brock boeser by @nolypats : seriously this fic wrecked me in ways i can only describe as amazing. i made myself wait a few days after it came out bc after reading the preview i knew my heart was gonna hurt, and damn did it ever. my heart broke with the characters and mended itself at the end. i was feeling a rollercoaster of emotions and you will 100% do the same. 100000000/10 must read

all my focus on you - jake virtanen by @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys : i love the totally blind and oblivious don’t know that you’re in love with someone until other people point it out look. it really does something to me. THE SOFTNESS OF THIS THO. i love it.

maple leafs

when fate stepped in - tyson barrie by @jasondickinsons : y’all know im a sucker for soulmate!au’s and im so invested in this series. the way tyson and the reader get to know each other and build their relationship is everything. i would consider this a slow burn and it burns so good. tyson’s chivalry will make you fall in love.

the plus one pact - william nylander by @puckinghell : listen the growth that the reader and willy go through individually in this story makes their ending so much sweeter. we love dynamic characters baby. also just imagine willy as your plus one to every event. like savor it. so good. i loved this series.

4 times you thought he would kiss you & 1 time he did - travis dermott by @jasondickinsons : this is so good. i’m a sucker for all the almost moments, and the ending could not have been more perfect. the way that kylie writes details gets my stomach turning literally everytime i read her writing. this is a story you can obsess over.

islanders

goodnight n go - mat barzal by @bandgirlsclub : i love this song and this was SUCH A CONCEPT. i loved the way sophie ended each part of this 4+1, it was literally perfect like all of her writing. I was hooked from the get go.

what your best friend doesn’t know - mat barzal by @jasondickinsons : well shit if this doesn’t get your heart racing i don’t know what will. the tension leading up is so palpable and good and then soft and sweet. loved it.

flames

all for you - brady & matthew tkachuk by @comphersjost : this fic and it’s second part gave me a slew of emotions. i was a wreck by the end of reading it. we love good old fashion pining. it’s it bad that i like to feel my heart hurt when i read this? probably. will i do it again? yes.

stuck with you - matthew tkachuk & vince dunn by @bandgirlsclub : tumblr made me love both of these guys and im not mad about it. this is so good. i was so conflicted about who i wanted the reader to end up with for the first three chapters but in the end it all works out. the bubble hockey fic you all need to read.

the one who needs saving - noah hanifin by @antoineroussel : i haven’t seen too many hanny fics on this site and that’s a damn shame bc that mans is a total cutie- and this fic def shows that. they form a friendship in the oddest of ways but they way that the reader and noah are there for each other makes my heart swell. i wasnt expecting it to end the way it did and i loved it! this was such a good read go see for yourself.

avs

lessons in romance - nathan mackinnon by @prettyboybarzal : one night i randomly searched “nathan mackinnon fic” and this popped up and WOW. im so glad i did. lowkey don’t know when or why or how i got into this mans but it suddenly happened and this fic isn’t helping. i am a soft girl and nate is learning how to be soft and the moments when he actually wants the reader make my stomach turn in such a good way. im in love with this story.

coupley things - nathan mackinnon by @broadstbroskis : i love mutual pining, hold up let me say it louder for the people in the back I LOVE MUTUAL PINING! holy shit this is adorable. wedding date nate is all we need in life

#kgs recs #hockey fic rec #must read series

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twinferns · 3 years

Text

y’all already know what time it is, it’s wandavision time 😎

oh my god i have so many thoughts and reactions i’m literally vibrating as i write this.

here’s your spoiler warning, do not read beyond this line if you don’t want spoilers for the third episode!!

you’ve been warned

- GFSDH HELLO MONICA OMG WAS THAT CAROL’S VOICE I HEARD WHEN MONICA WAS UNDUSTED?

- can we take a hot second to talk ab how this is the most realistic portrayal of the undusting? like the sheer chaos and panic? can you imagine trying to manage a hospital with hundreds of people just reappearing?

- rip maria im big sad :(

- MONICA FOUNDED SWORD WHAT AN ICON

- MY MAN JIMMY WOO IS BACK BABY

- let’s just take a quick moment to appreciate his glow up in close up magic, like the way he just flicked his FBI badge out of thin air? im so proud of my boy

- oh so wanda took over a whole fucking town? god damn girl

- please “eastview”

- DARCY IT’S DARCY THIS IS NOT A DRILL SHE’S BACK

- my girl got her doctorate, that’s DR. darcy lewis to you

- the way darcy is the only one that can figure anything out in all of sword i love her

- so from what i understand, wanda has slurped up all these sword agents and used them as puppets for her au. except i dont think they identified agnes which is making me really suspicious. i do not trust her

- can someone get darcy a damn cup of coffee? the poor girl is doing all the work smh

- so the helicopter we saw in ep 2 (i think?) was a sword drone that got converted to either a) fit in with her au better, or b) keep sword from gathering any info on what’s happening

- i love darcy i dont think you understand, the way she represents the fans? she’s just as invested as us

- THE BEE KEEPER WAS A SWORD AGENT IN A HAZMAT SUIT OMG the poor man was just trying to run some reconnaissance and wanda “no ❤️”ed him out of existence rip

- JIMMY WOO CONTACTING HER VIA RADIO THE THEORIES WERE RIGHT

- im invested too darcy, they’re so adorable

- the way wanda just blasted poor monica through all the walls and right out of the reality. bestie wanda is seriously scary, like if she head tilted at me i think id simply cease to exist out of fear and respect

- VISION’S CORPSE ACTUALLY TRAUMATIZED ME WTAF MARVEL WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

- vision is gaining awareness. at this point idk what to think, i still dont think wanda is fully in control but she’s a major source of the chaos and has a lot of control

- LITERAL CHILLS WHEN GERALDINE SAID “it’s all wanda”

- also for anyone confused ab the time line (*cough* this is for you mom *cough*) here’s what i figured out: tony snaps > wanda creates reality ab 3 (i think) weeks late > monica gets sucked in > the 50s ep > 60s ep with helicopter and radio > 70s ep where monica gets kicked out

- i just wanna know how wanda went from tony’s funeral (still sad ab this dont hmu) to literal kidnapping a town and forcing them to be characters in her fix-it au

marvel is nourishing us, they are feeding us quality content and im absolutely thriving. i also wanna take a moment to thank the marvel nerds (i use this term in the most affectionate way possible) for explaining everything to those who are too lazy to find all the clues, aka me. i love y’all, and i appreciate the work you do, i literally would have no clue what is going on without you guys.

also i really hope the twins grow up soon im really excited to properly meet them.

i’ll see y’all next week for the next ep!

#wandavision #wandavison spoilers #wanda maximov #vision #monica rambeau #maria rambeau #captain marvel #carol danvers #reactions #marvel #mcu #billy kaplan #tommy maximoff

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warmau · 4 years

Text

ateez x coworker!au | sf9 ver *this post was commissioned (someone asked for some cute ateez) <3

hongjoong

diligent and always on time, he puts way too much effort into any project on his plate

if there’s any word to describe him its workaholic, but hongjoong insists that he’s just being a good employee - nothing more

but it’s like,,,,,,,,,,,you’re doing the regional managers job and you are literally not,,,,,,,the regional manager

he’s some how the assistant to the regional manager and like. no one understands how because like hongjoong most definitely does the brunt of the work

but during annual reviews he’s always downplaying it and that evil good for nothing regional manager takes the credit

wooyoung and san on a regular basis: what if the regional managers tires get slashed accidentally or what if we hide all of those ugly ties he wears or what if we hack into the company's assets and make it look like hes laundering money-

hongjoong: dont do that

wooyoung and san winking: yeah, sure, “don’t do that”

hongjoong: no like seriously dont do that

his little office space is really cutely decorated though and hes the best gift giver at office parties because he always gives something handmade and unique

you have a bracelet that you got last christmas from him when you guys got paired for the exchange, and it’s really so cute and colorful you always wear it

and the office guys tease hongjoong about it like, “hey - are you guys a couple? c’mon tell us the truth - you have a matching bracelet for yourself!” (hongjoong feverishly refuses this but the tips of his ears always get red)

one time mingi, with all the good naturedness of his heart commented that you must find the deep, dark exhaustion eyebags under hongjoong eyes cute - you know, like a racoons!

and you were like o-oh well- y-y-es?!?!?! and hongjoong had proceeded to drag the poor intern out of the break room by his ear

it’s like the shy office romance that everyone is cheering for that doesnt really happen

until one evening as hongjoong is getting ready to finally leave for the day he’s astonished to see you

frantically searching on your hands and knees for something in the dim office lights

“did you lose your keys?”

he asks and you’re so startled you hit your head on the desk you’re under as you come up - you put your hands up embarrassingly and mumble that no,,,,,you lost that bracelet he gave you,,,,

he lets out a little “oh!” and waves his hand in the air as if its nothing, he tells you not to worry - it was just a little gift-

“no, it’s important to me,,,,,,,”

your voice is a slight whisper and hongjoong barely catches

“w-why is it so important to you?”

“because you made it.”

you turn back to start looking again, when you hear hongjoong put his things down on the floor and join you

his hand is warm when it brushes over yours a little

he’s never had someone cherish something he’s made like this before and so even if you two have to spend the whole night searching - he’s down for that

and when you do find it,,,,and there’s still time to take you to dinner,,,,he thinks he’s very much down for that too

seonghwa

spends half his day running away from potential suitors who come down from all the different departments just to ask him out for lunch or after work drinks

he’s just a low ranking officer, he doesn’t get what the craze is about?!?!

hongjoong, taking one hard look at seonghwa: i know what its about

seonghwa: plEAse tell me so i can live a peaceful life

hongjoong, sighing: dude. its your face

and even on the days when he comes in with glasses perched on the end of his nose and a slightly crumpled shirt from having to rush to iron in the morning

like it does not matter - he looks like and literally is - an angel

has a weird irritation about little spots on documents, like if dirt gets in the printer and its on the page hes like,,,,,eye twitching,,,,,,,,,no

three bottles, at least, of hand sanitizer on his desk

his headphones match his laptop, which match his wireless keyboard, which match his mouse - the color scheme we are going for is a calming ivory

once got called in for causing a disturbance, but it was literally not his fault, he went to ask the billing department if they had any extra ink and came downstairs with like five people all chattering at max volume about if he had plans next saturday

wooyung: damn man being beautiful must suck

seonghwa: oh thank you for understanding, it really is-

wooyoung: SIKE it rocks how do i know? look at me!

yeosang to seonghwa: just ignore him, he does this at least twice a day

you know seonghwa, how could you not, and you agree with the majority opinion: he is insanely handsome

but you have your own problems to worry about, that being a very nasty manager who seems to have it out for you

so like seonghwa, you spend half your day hiding from someone, which means

solace in the supplies closet

one day, as you’re sitting inside there, trying to work on a memo draft on your phone

the door swings open - and you jump to pretend like you’re looking for staples

but instead, it closes with a harsh noise and the person slides down against the door - heaving and fanning themselves

“a-are you ok?”

you ask, worried that the shortness of breath is from them feeling sick - when in reality its just seonghwa, on the run from lovestruck coworkers

again

he shakes his head and mumbles that he’s sorry for barging in

but you shake your head, tell him its fine

you’re both under this impression that one of you is going to bounce soon - like this is a supply closet, not the break room - but after about five minutes of utter silence

seonghwa goes, “are you also running away from work people who are in love with you?”

you giggle, but shake your head “actually running away from a work person who hates me.”

he gives you an apologetic look, but you just wave it off - not like there’s much either of you can do about it anyway

its silent for a while, and you keep trying to do as much editing as you can on your phone, not really paying attention to the way seonghwa’s eyes flick toward you in the dark

not until he clears his throat and is like, “well i think the coast is clear so ill be going back out there-”

you nod, thinking you should probably return too before your manager goes bonkers and says you’ve abandoned your position or something

as you near the door though - suddenly seonghwa shyly extends his arm

you blink in confusion and he just goes, “maybe if we go out together itll be less scary?”

the sentiment is adorable and you take his palm in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze

though the moment you two step out - there are at least ten pairs of eyes on you and suddenly seonghwa makes sure to swing your hands behind your backs

he leans down, “dont want anyone to get the wrong idea and then you end up getting hurt too.”

but you think about it for a moment before tugging your hands out into the open - a wave of gasps passes through the people around you like a wave through the sea

you tiptoe up and explain, “maybe if they think you’re taken they’ll back off?”

the sentence shouldnt make seonghwa’s heart jump in his chest like it does - but hey, maybe your plan will work

(or maybe your manager will hate you even more because what - you bagged SEONGHWA? OF ALL PEOPLE?)

yeosang

really really REALLY good at bullshitting stellar work

and not in a last minute oh shit kind of wooyoung way, but in a i dont actually know anything about the material but damn am i going to make it sound like i do kind of way

and to be fair, if yeosang stared you down in a board room meeting for fifteen to twenty minutes selling you a pitch and blinking like a cat on the hunt then like

im pretty sure you’re just going to buy into the pitch

interns are scared of him because they think hes like the no nonsense, dont bother me type

which he plays into sometimes because its fun and the interns will do what he says without bothering him about it

but the reality is he can be quite silly,,,,,,,,,jongho has on occasion caught yeosang getting giddy over like kitten youtube videos on break and everytime yeosang is like you didnt see anything

and jongho is like sure, not until it becomes beneficial to me and i use it against you

yeosang: wh

jongho: so the weather, huh?

knows everyone’s business somehow, but only gets invested if its like super super super juicy - i.e. someone in corporate is stealing money or there’s a secret poker game on the weekend for promotions

like no, san, yeosang doesnt care that you lied on your taxes

you are one of the newer hires, not an intern, just new to the job

and although everyones been pretty inviting - you kind of maybe really think that yeosang,,,,,,,,hates you

he has this routine, an hour before everyone leaves on friday he goes around the department to see if anyone wants to go downstairs and across the street to get some coffee with him

you asume its a kind of “yay the weekends here” thing - which you are very down for, but its been like a month since youve been here

and yeosang has never asked you

hell, he even asks intern mingi - who half the time is doing these starbucks runs so he doesnt have the pleasure of ever really saying no

you had chalked it up to - oh im new, and hes maybe shy? but that makes no sense because this is kang yeosang

shyness isnt an adjective you’d use for him - so the only other logical explanation is,,,,,,,you must have had a really horrible first impression

you decide to ask san about it - he seems pretty close to yeosang and hes also been super open with you - but when you go, “did i do something to make yeosang angry?”

san nearly spits out the rice he’s chewing on - he gets fidgety in his seat, something you arent used to seeing, and says he has to go

curious, you decide to ask wooyoung the same question - but get the same panicked response

so you as yunho, who gives you a sad puppy kind of look and then jongho, who just???????? chuckles

it makes no sense and you’re even more confused than before - when suddenly its friday and yeosang - yesong is approchaing your desk

“do you want to go to starbucks with me?”

the way you jump up and beam must seem like a schoolkid getting their first a+ on a project, but you don’t care - and as you follow yeosang out the whole office gives a big sigh of relief

in the elevator down, yeosang keeps himself tucked in the corner and the bliss you had felt starts to wear down

wait,,,,maybe he invited me because hes sick of me asking other people if he hates me? is he about to tell me he hates me over some iced coffee?!?!

but as you step out and make your way toward the cafe, yeosang stops - putting a light hand on your elbow

immediately you start apologizing, you dont know where it comes from - but like an open faucet you just start saying sorry for the most random things and yeosang just gives you a confused look that shuts you up

“wait - why are you apologizing to me?”

he inquires and your shoulders shake a little, “well,,,,,i mean - didnt i piss you off?”

he looks to the side and sighs, “far from it - actually i pissed myself off more than anything else.”

“huh?”

he crosses his hands before returning his gaze to yours, a fine pink dust settles over his skin

“its just, i was avoiding you because im not, im not like - you know im not like good at like asking - asking peopl- people i like -”

he starts to stutter, or better yet almost malfunction, as he tries to explain

you almost feel like apologizing again for making this so hard on him, when he just throws his hands up

“i like you - and not in the we’re just co-workers kind of way - and yes, i find it hard to approach people i find cute. there. im not mad at you and yes im aware i look like a fool, so lets just go get our coffee-”

your smile almost stretches off your face as you hear his words, instead of knowing what else to say you step forward and takes his hands into yours

“you dont look like a fool, and yes we should get coffee but only if you admit that this is kind of our first date-”

he holds back the urge to laugh but stares down into the sparkles of your eyes

“are you sure? starbucks on a first date is kind of,,,,,,,”

“im sure, ive been waiting for you to ask me to come to starbucks with you for a whole month so its very fitting”

you and yeosang have a good giggle about that - when you come back to the office, san asks where his hot chocolate is but you and yeosang are so busy rubbing shoulders and being even cuter together that you just walk past him

san: im so deeply hurt, but also so deeply moved by how sweet they look with one and other

wooyoung

the office has wildly differing opinions on him, but one things for sure: hes brilliant in the weirdest of ways

on a 9-5 basis he gets like one hour of work done on a good day but lets say like the company is going through a major crisis

the person with the lifesaving idea SOMEHOW will be wooyoung (aided by hongjoong who probably just needs to curb some of wooyoungs enthusiasm)

but yes, like people will write him off as giddy and loud - but hes not dumb

wooyoung: “you can have a bachelors degree and do dumb stuff, like thats not illegal.”

jongho: “vandalizing the ceos car when you were an intern here is illegal though.”

wooyoung, eyes wide: “how do you know about- i never did that,,,,,,,,”

makes memes and shares them in the work gc and the only people who get them are san and jongho, san because he shares a brain with wooyoung and jongho because hes literally young

hongjoong and mingi everytime: i dont get it....

you are a transfer from the companys overseas office and wooyoung takes to you right away

mostly because you’re different and know all this cool stuff that he doesnt

and you really like his fun energy, even though yeosang will be like “dont get tricked by it”

so when you and wooyoung get paired for a marketing project - you are both over the moon

until

its the night before its due and you and wooyoung have. nothing

you’re both spread out in the empty confrence room, wooyoung chugging a monster energy - while you nearly fall asleep and drop the tablet you’re working on straight on your face

wooyoung is like “lets just ask for an extension” but you insist you cant, this is your first big project here and you want to make an impression

but the slump you’re both in is BAD

suddenly wooyoung takes the tablet off your hands and you sit up, hoping he’s thought of something, but instead he blasts some pop song and you cringe as you fall back in your chair

“turn it off, i cant think with that noise.”

“c’mon, dancing will help us think of ideas.”

“wooyoung - seriously, we need to do some work or -”

he doesnt listen to you, he just pulls you up from your seat and twirls you around

you groan and try to tell him that its not going to work - but wooyoung just says it doesnt need to, you guys just need to have some fun before you die over this stupid project

you dont want to admit that hes right - that your body feels like its been reduced to a bag of sludge - so you let him twirl you again until you’re dancing too

the anxiety from the project loosens a little as you watch wooyoung dance unabashedly, tie swinging over his shoulder and dress shirt a mess

you join him, kicking off your shoes and just letting go for these ten blissful minutes

you don’t notice and as you turn toward wooyoung, your ankle catches on one of the chairs and you go tumbling toward him as he catches you and cushions your fall

you both laugh and wooyoung looks up into your smiling face - happy to see it bright after you’d looked so miserable the whole day

actually, he doesnt say it outloud, but this happiness on you is probably the most beautiful happiness hes seen on someone

it glitters and for a moment he doesnt want to let your inviting warm weight off of him

and then - just as his eyes wavier down a little from your eyes to your lips he goes

“AHAH! IVE GOT IT!”

you sit up and he follows suit, grasping your shoulders

“IVE GOT AN IDEA!”

you want to ask him how he got it, what prompted it, but hes already talking a mile a minute

and to be honest, hes pretty happy you didnt get to ask - the answers totally embarrassing - like whats he gonna say

your natural beauty inspired me? how,,,,,,,,how sweet - corny, he means corny!

san

he can most definitely turn on the charm when he needs to, making himself out to be put together and organized

but troublemaking is just too good to pass up, no wonder he and wooyoung are often referred to as partners-in-crime

100% the host for the monthly office karaoke contest

somehow the bartender always gets a little pale when san comes tumbling in because,,,,,,,he is clumsy and quite good at breaking things,,,,,,

he outwits seonghwa into helping him clean up his desk when it gets too crazy

and frequently gets bonked on the head by hongjoong who catches him falling asleep over the keyboard

or trying to play on the switch - but then getting his headphones disconnected and now everyone can hear tom nook’s voice

he adheres to the dress code, but likes to have sparkly pins in his hair or a colorful belt from time to time

just because the bleakness of corporate life SUCKS and is not san’s vibe at ALL

but hey, money.

you like san’s karaoke contests and really enjoy just how much he puts into the performances

even if everyone else is giving their half-baked effort on songs from the early 2000s

you yourself dont ever get up to sing, just because of a shyness thing and also you much rather just watch san cause havoc

until one day you show up and you and san are the only ones,,,,,,,,there

somehow - everyone else has things to do this evening - so you tell him you can just comeback next month

when he insists that no, you two can have fun together!

you end up on what someone might call an impromptu date with san,,,,,

where he does his favorite songs and you cheer while the bartender sends over two drinks “on the house” and whispers to you when you collect them that he hopes you can “be the person who will calm san down”

its awfully embarrassing,,,,,but at the same time kind of fun,,,,,,until san invites you up for a duet

you are saying no, but san is waving you over, and someone wolf whistles from somewhere

and before you know it you are up there - and san puts a hand on yours as he passes you the mic

you kind of mumble into the mic, and believe me its nothing like what san belts out when hes up there

and still - san is jumping up and down and looks like he’s legitimately having the time of his life

his energy kind of boosts your confidence and one might say you even sing a bit of the song

when the night is over, san offers to take the train with you to your stop and if you want - he’ll even take the time to walk you home

just as you two are about to emerge from the station, just sort of basking in each others presence you both get your email notifications from work

taking your phones out you read the message

subject: finally hooking those two up body: ‘so, bets on a kiss - do you think they kissed? i think they did, or at least got close to it - you know how san is during karaoke’

the next email appears, this one is from jongho

subject: re: finally hooking those two up body: ‘which idiot cc’d san and them on the email,,,,,,,,,,,,’

you and san sort of stare down at your screens and then back up at each other

the realization dawns on you: nobody was actually too busy for karaoke,,,,,,,the whole office just wanted to set you up on a date,,,,,,

you are truly at a lose for words when suddenly san is typing back and before you can question it you get a ping!

subject: re:re: finally hook those two up body: ‘haven’t kissed yet, but the nights still young.

yunho

everyone's handyman - and by everyone, i mean everyone. the janitor has asked him to screw in lightbulbs before.

fairly good worker all around, he can come in late on certain days because hes helping grandmas cross streets or saving kittens from trees

and there have been instances of tiny mistakes, mostly because his attention was on giving feedback to the interns

but yeah no complaints, hes never even been given like a warning

very tidy work appropriate outfits - like tie tucked into sweater vest baby

feels guilty when he does have enough lunch to share with every single person, you know hes bringing his jumbo salad bowl to work

the worst lie hes ever told on the job is pointing to his cup and being like, yep thats my morning coffee!!!

when in fact it was soothing decaffeinated earl gray tea because coffee makes him jittery

your assigned to yunho for basic intern training and youre so lucky and thankful because like

youve heard the horror stories, but he is seriously just an angel

and doesnt get annoyed at your questions and even helps out when you get confused

the only thing is that sometimes he gets so engrossed in showing you how to format this document

or where to get the copy paper

that personal space sorta siezes to exist and now hes hovering over you with his big hands over your keyboard

or his chest pressed to your back as he helps get the supplies from the top shelf

and you are not complaining its just,,,,,,,,,,,you know,,,,,,,,embarrassing

and sometimes you have to excuse yourself

or just wiggle away and you dont want to hurt his feelings or anything

its just you hate that with each day you see yunho’s smile in the morning and something in your chest gets a little tighter

and you are not about to date a co-woker, no way no how

even though yunho meets every checklist for the perfect boyfriend

because 1) its probably against the rules and 2) you dont want to just get your heartbroken by the man who is just that kind to everyone

until one day hongjoong makes an offhanded comment about how yunho has never taken this much of a liking to an intern like you

and you think about it all day, up until its the only thing on your mind and it takes yunho five tries of calling your name until you snap out of it and go

“huh?”

“hongjoong suggested this good place to eat, do you want to come have lunch with me since i didnt bring anything in today?”

your mouth works faster than your mind and you go,

“like a date?”

before immediately clamping your palm over and muttering an apology

but yunho’s ears go bright and he sort of loses his composure for a moment till a small, squeaky answer comes out

“yeah,,,,like a date?”

mingi

eager to please intern,,,,,,,but add in a dash of absolute obliviousness

like he wants to help everyone but sometimes the instructions from like five different people just turn to mush in his brain

and hes like delivering coffee to the wrong person or printing out three hundred copies of that poorly photoshopped meme wooyoung made instead of the needed documents

but no one can get mad at him because have you seen him? like it would be straight up illegal to even raise your voice at him

hes so sweet that numerous people offer their homemade lunches to him and hes always like eating a sandwich from hongjoong or freshly baked cookies from yunho

the older ladies of the office just a d o r e him (a little too much, but like hes so sweet natured he doesnt even read into it)

his pants are always short and someone is always like poor mingi’s ankles are so cold

but at the same time he can lift like ,,,,, one hundred pounds of printer cartridge's so its like,,,,,,,,, ok so maybe those skinny ankles actually put in a lot of work,,,,,,,,

you��re the ceos only child and when they’re off on business, you’re in charge of the department where mingi interns

and like anyone else you have a huge soft spot for him, even though you dont try to show it because favoritism is a no-no

actually in general you try to be as fair and as understanding as possible, because your parent isnt really the type

a lot of the office really likes you, but now and then someone will say something snippy or rude about you

simply because they think you got your job through just being the ceo’s kid or that you’re only lenient to try and get in with one of the office heartthrobs

you try not to take it personally and you bite your tongue when it comes to putting those rumors and the people who spread them in place

but one afternoon, you can clearly hear a group of people talking about how you lack the leadership skills to ever take over the company

it hurts, you can feel the pain in your chest, but you try to wrestle through it until you hear mingi’s voice

“i dont think you should say that about them.”

you turn and peek your head passed the cubical - mingi’s tall frame is standing in front of the pack

“what do you know, you’re just a lowly intern.”

“thats true, but ive seen them work and theyre really good at leading. theyre also doing two jobs at once - both theirs and the ceos, i dont think anyone here has to deal with so much work.”

youd think his tone was being mocking, just like theirs, but his voice is clean and clear

like hes just stating a truth he believes in

when one of them starts badmouthing mingi, you step in and tug him away from the conversation as the office workers disperses back to their seats

you tug him toward the stairs and out of earshot and mumble a small thank you

“huh? why are you thanking me?”

“well you stood up for me so-”

he shrugs his shoulders, “i was just saying the truth.”

you nod, embarrassment on your cheeks as you realize that its mingi youre talking to - of course he wouldnt have any other motive but to -

“and theyre wrong you know, one of them was saying youre not pretty and thats a lie too. youre good at your job and -”

“wait, what”

you back up and mingi blinks - “i said youre good at your j-”

“no before that, you think im-”

“pretty?”

you both stare at each other as the realization sinks into mingi’s expression and he sort of opens his mouth like a gaping fish -

“i-i - i just - i -”

you stiffle a giggle and shake your head, “no no, its nice that you think that. it makes me really happy.”

“well, im just a lowly intern so i mean i dont know if its such a great compliment-”

you lean up and peck his cheek, making him freeze midstence

“youre not a lowly intern, i believe youre way more than that and sooner or later youll probably be promoted too!”

“pr-promoted? like to a worker or like ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,to,,,,,,,,,,your,,,,,,,,,,,,boyfriend,,,,,,,,,,,”

jongho

kid genius, has a higher position than most people double his age

knows everyone's secrets so no one even tries to start shit with him about it

loves watching the office go into chaos when the printer isnt working and apparently hes the only one who knows how to fix a goddamn paper jam

but hes on a coffee break, let him watch everyone tear each other apart before he actually just presses a button to fix this all

like mingi, he can actually lift way more than him, but why would he - the intern is there for a reason lol

probably has an early college degree from some prestigious school and he doesnt talk about it but he knows people whisper about it

and hes like so what i still work at this dump but like what - is someone gonna rat on him to the ceo? - no, because he’ll just tell the ceo about that one time that person tried to charge the company card for their vacation plane tickets :)

gets work done fast and early, spends the rest of the day just playing minecraft

you used to be jongho’s number one rival for youngest, smartest position

but he sorta beat you out over time and even though you were pissed about it for a long while

youve kinda gotten over the rivalry

instead youre comfortable in your other department and dont really see jongho around anymore

which you think is normal - and actually youre under the impression that jongho is happy to be rid of you

but the reality is he makes up way too many excuses to go up to your floor, i.e. “the bathroom is better there” “their breakroom has this k-cup i like” “the view from the windows are nicer”, etc.

no one notices, or if they do - no one dares to make a peep

but you ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, are starting to think its a little suspicious

so you confront him, as he stands awkwardly by the window at the end of the hall

“are you like spying on me?”

jongho turns around, dark eyes widening just a bit

“what? no. i just like the view.”

“jongho, your office is like three floors above mine - you arguably have the better view.”

he shrugs as if its nothing but you press on

“why are you coming down here - wait, oh my gosh - do you like someone in my department?!??”

you suddenly get bright and clap your hands together, “c’mon you have to tell me!”

he looks you over once and makes a hmph sound, “why would i tell you?”

you pout

“i know we were rivals for a while, but c’mon - i promise ill put in a good word for you so who is it?”

you step closer and jongho feels his tie get a little tighter

“the new intern? they’re cute - or is it someone older like in the-”

“you”

you stop and buffer - looking at him and for the first time jongho drops his eyes to the floor first

“m-me? you’re coming down here for me? is it because of our riv-”

“no.”

he sets the cup he was holding on the windowsill and suddenly you’re the nervous one

“you’re right. i come here because the person i like on this floor is you.”

he reaches out to touch your wrist but you step back, the confession is too shocking to handle and you scurry off before you can say anything in return

you slide down against the stall of the bathroom and let out the breath you’re holding

its not that you dont like jongho back, actually your whole rivalry was sort of just a cover up for your one-sided feelings

you just never thought that they’d be reciprocated,,,,,,,

you try to pull yourself together - marching out to the sink and looking into your reflection

we cant let jongho win again, he might have confessed first, but your still rivals no matter how much you like each other so just go out there and - and -

you cant think of exactly the word, but before you know it your rushing out and to the stairs

jongho doesnt look too surprised to see you bust into his office - but the rest of the office turns to look at you two

“you-”

“yes?”

“yo-you cant say you like me first, why? well - well because ive liked you longer, so im saying it now. i like you. so i win. no arguing. take me to dinner. bye.”

and with that you turn on your heel, jongho nods - secretly smiling to himself as he puts on his headphones

yunho to mingi: isnt it crazy, jongho just got asked out in front of the whole office!

mingi, blinking: wait what? i thought that person was just mad at him

#ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez au #members: ateez #sfw #office!au

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my-darling-boy · 4 years

Note

im wondering if you think that edward brittain and geoffrey thurlow were lovers. because i know the movie implied that perhaps there was something more there, bu from reading the book as well as 'letters from a lost generation' i didnt get that impression. just wondering your thoughts!

Right okay I’m about to InfoDumpᵀᴹ because the love Geoffrey and Edward had is one of the main things that got me into learning about WWI years ago!!! So allow me to shed some light on these boys specifically!

So firstly, Geoffrey Thurlow was inserted swiftly into Edward Brittain’s life and the two got on INSTANTLY in early 1915 after Edward was commissioned to the Sherwood Foresters. For a long time, Victor Richardson had been Edward’s trusted friend, as of course they knew each other from their Uppingham days, but it’s apparent in Testament of Youth, Letters From a Lost Generation, and the other works by the family’s historian Mark Bostridge, that Geoffrey and Edward became VERY close VERY fast. And while it could be written off as a friendship..... there is a lot of evidence that, even ignoring my own conjectures, is hard to dispute the fact that their relationship was more than friendship, even if it never became sexual or explicitly physical.

On top of the two becoming quickly inseparable, they also frequented expression of their desire to be with one another while the other was away, Thurlow often sending Edward very affectionate and borderline romantic letters and postcards on a whim, even sending him one rather Cryptic postcard on Valentine’s Day one year. The two insisted on doing many activities together, and many found them a perfect fit, Geoffrey a rather dreamy, expressive, and emotional young man, while Edward was practically the opposite; it’s suggested that they adored each other so much due to their personalities complimenting the other’s quite well: Edward was able to provide Geoffrey with reassurance and That Officerly Gay Protectiveness, while Geoffrey’s understanding and soft demeanor provided an open window for Edward to share his insecurities when he couldn’t show them to the other men. And while it could be said that Edward was more hesitant to be with Geoffrey in such a manner, even if Geoffrey felt no personal conflict, the two wanted to be very, very personal.

Both boys stayed connected regularly, no matter where they were, through intimate correspondence. As I mentioned, a good majority of their letters involve either one of them, but specially Geoffrey, longing poetically to be out in nature with the other or wishing they were together, but not at present, not wanting the other to be in harm’s way. A lot of Geoffrey’s letters to Edward, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, are signed “Him that thou knowest thine” or just “thine”. Of course this means “yours” or “you who know that I am yours”. And while this sort of thing, at least in my latter wording, was not an uncommon expression between men at this time, it’s..... the first way it’s worded that surprises me. For lack of a more eloquent explanation, it’s Gay as Hell to be THAT poetic to your new soldier friend, even for 1910s standards. One might ask why he simply wouldn’t just write “yours” instead of adding the special style, and making the extra effort to imply “not only am I yours, but you know as well as I do that I’m yours”. One might even ask if it was to refer to a special meeting, or inside romantic reference, such as the way in which Roland and Vera signed their own letters to each other, “au revoir”. Literally one letter from Thurlow to Edward simply ends with “In Life, in Death, Yours”.

There were also several letters marked “private” sent to the Brittain residence from Geoffrey in the span between 1915 to 1916 when Geoffrey would have occasionally been on leave, and could write whatever he damned well pleased to Edward without fear of the military censors poking around. What makes this crucial evidence to support they were having homosexual correspondence is the fact that Vera burnt the private letters before she died to protect the boys’ wishes to keep them private, if not by Edward’s direct request for her to do so, something which by itself doesn’t seem so odd given the fact letters were burnt all the time for a number of reasons, but is especially compelling given the fact other evidence makes a strong case that they were together. What was contained in those letters is lost to history, but they shouldn’t be confused with the letters taken off the censors which later may have began the domino effect to Edward’s untimely death, as that was in 1918, over a year after the death of Geoffrey, and were about different homosexual matters with other ranks at the time.

Additionally: while Edward’s reaction to Geoffrey’s death is argued not to have been as strong as his response was to, say, Victor’s death, as support for the fact he didn’t actually care much for Thurlow, he wrote to Vera “I have been afraid for him for so long and yet now that he is gone it is so very hard—that prince among men with so fine an appreciation of all that was worth appreciating and so ideal a method of expression . . . Always a splendid friend with a splendid heart and a man who won’t be forgotten by you or me however long or short a time we may live. Dear child, there is no more to say; we have lost almost all there was to lose . . .” In my own mind, this letter is just the tip of the iceberg to how he felt. It’s clear that Geoffrey’s death had a greater toll on him in the long run, while Victor’s death seemed to affect him immediately. I can only assume this is due in part to Edward being so emotionally invested in Geoffrey versus Victor, and that Victor’s death evoked an immediate and present sadness, while Geoffrey’s was so difficult to handle, he couldn’t think but to react in a collected but sorrowful manner, one I feel was meant to conceal just how heartbroken he was, as though he was worried if he showed as much outward devastation as he showed for Victor, he feared one may speculate why he held so much sadness for Geoffrey...as though he was afraid people knew what was between them.

Geoffrey’s death seemed to CRUSH Edward, leading him down this path of dark despair and depression following his passing, and it lead to a lot of misdirected tension between he and his sister at times, and he subsequently turned far more reserved, uncommunicative, and apathetic than ever before. I’d even go so far as to say that Edward might have felt guilty about his own relations with Geoffrey after he died, possibly believing he could have done more to be closer with him, or felt guilt in having distanced himself from him in some way later in 1917. And after such events, he showed more distaste for the war, more lack of emotion towards his own life and its worth, and his letters often took a downhearted turn towards the end.

When he died, Geoffrey’s letter, the last one he sent to Edward in 1917, was found in his breast pocket, and I would assume this to be over his heart. It ends by saying “Till we meet again, Here or in the Hereafter,” and it’s speculated he carried this ever since the day Geoffrey died, and, most defintely, died with it close to his heart.

By my own conjecture, I say that Edward felt that he was both conscious of and without objection to his homosexuality, most likely because it was suggested in private schools at the time (take Evelyn Waugh’s comments on being interested in boys at boarding school as a phase that one grows out of) that it was a passing curiosity, and that such interests would diminish when one reached adulthood. I felt that he did romantically love Geoffrey, even if it never had the opportunity to become sexual or physically intimate. And because our own understanding of homosexuality did not exist at the time for him to have any model from which to reference comprehension of his own sexuality, I believe, that like most of his queer contemporaries, he had a rather ambiguous—near procrastinating—outlook on his own sexual orientation and relationship status, along with his view concerning his future life and possible wife.

The war created a near diversion from having to consider the possibility of being with a woman, and he could instead allow to let his homosexuality subconsciously flourish while being in the presence of so many men, and allow his romantic love for Geoffrey to remain raw and intimate without having to confront the implications such a future would hold for him socially, all due to the war being the only thing on his present mind. And furthermore, I firmly believe that Geoffrey held a deep admiration for him: he looked up to him as well as loved him. Though he was training to be a priest, he seems to express no distaste—rather the opposite, based on his letters to Edward—for flirtatious relations between men, and remains such a gentle and deeply poetic figure to Edward I have only seen reflected in that of homosexual bonds. In my opinion, being gay myself, and with having delved into scattered studies of male affection in earlier centuries, they were in love. It’s a story I so often encounter between men of their class in this era, specifically during the war.

I will also admit that, for some reason, from standing afar, the recollection by itself of what information is told to us about Edward and Geoffrey is rather.... timid...in some instances amid the background of Vera and Roland, of Malta and France. And the ones provided alone from most books are merely the “friendly” letters. The ones I’m sure we would really like to see were lost on Geoffrey’s side and burned on Edward’s side, and what others remain are held in private facilities and university archives, and only available in brief mentions online. However, looking closely, reading sections purely between the two boys, isolating only their letters, their language, and even digging further into works written from Mark Bostridge and other minor historians piecing together dots not having previously been connected, what love they shared feels warm and strong, if not simultaneously distant and foggy at times: such is the way the world remembers homosexuals unfortunately.

These boys never got the oppertunity to be with each other in the way we would like to see historic gay people, the way we swoon over the way Maurice and Clive or Alec were together in Maurice for instance. Geoffrey and Edward were in the middle of war, and there’s both so much poor documentation on homosexuals and so little chance in the chaos to a have a ditch-lectures-to-go-on-a-motorbike-ride-into-a-meadow relationship we expect to see, compared to other circumstances where it would obviate the way they felt about each other. But because of the war, it made it even harder to progress gay relationships due to combat, death, anxiety, and just a general lack of space and oppertunity to be with a man all the time without someone seeing.

I later discovered a while back this historian’s articles about the lives and intertwining of Edward and Geoffrey and they are packed with a brilliant compilation of sources and their own take on the relationship, which I was quite excited to have the pleasure of reading, for we share very similar viewpoints on the matter and even caught onto hints and details during our own reading of the sources no other readers seemed to talk about!

Edward’s || Geoffrey’s

What fragments which are left to us, if we understand just how forcibly hidden life had to be for these men, letters marked “private” and passing remarks of desiring to walk among trees with someone special speak of a louder and more profound story buried deep beneath them. It’s important to take into account that many of the known gay relationships we have record of today are not as well documented as Oscar Wilde. Sometimes, the only record we have of their love lost to time is held in the way it’s held here, in the signing of “Thine”.

I can only hope now that since they could not hold each other in life, that in death, they could finally be together.

Anyway, there’s my Novel, thanks for the ask!

#I love them sm #testament of youth #vera brittian #edward brittain #geoffrey thurlow #asks #long post #wwi

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