#i think all the anime blogs i follow died

[kwanisms]

Of Hellfire & Saints 01 — k.hongjoong, k.yeosang

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➮ incubus!Hongjoong × fem!Reader wc: 27.2k (in this part. 50.2k total) summary: After the death of the love of her life, Y/N runs away from the village only to be caught in a heavy storm but she manages to find refuge in Hongjoong's hut in the forest. While waiting out the storm, someone knocks on the door, prompting her to answer the door. genres/themes/au: angst, slight fluff, smut; fantasy, horror, supernatural, biblical & demonic; non idol au, historical setting, demon warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, historical period setting (think Puritan or like Salem witch trials but fantasy and with more creative liberty lol), mentions of: alcohol & food consumption, witches & witchcraft, religious text & ideology, harm against animals, pregnancy; attempted SA, major & minor character deaths (heed this warning, i’m not playing around. This shit is DARK), sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

taglists moved to reblogs join my taglists: main | series Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  Send a DM or ask to be removed from my taglist. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.  AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: the word count on this got away from me and so to make it all fit because i really don't want to edit it down, I've split it into two posts. I had really hoped to keep the word count down after what happened with part one but I really could not stop writing. as I said in the author's notes of the first part, read with care and caution. Do NOT ignore the warnings. They are there for a reason, a lot of people die. It’s not fun. It’s gruesome. Also keep in mind that every action has a reason. Now that’s out of the way, please enjoy this sequel and keep an eye out for the next part which will be Seonghwa’s backstory. Thank you so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. 

smut warnings: there are multiple scenes in this so I will list the warnings for each one here but all of them involved unprotected sex. You do not do this. Use protection, this is fantasy. SCENE 1: table sex, dirty talk, spitting, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), rough (at times) sex, lowkey love-making, dom!Hongjoong, orgasm denial (f receiving), multiple orgasms (f receiving), mild choking (f receiving), praise (f receiving), cum inside, and that’s it on this one! SCENE 2: dry humping, choking (f receiving), table sex, fingering (f receiving), spitting, praise (f receiving), mild degradation (f receiving), cum inside, and that should be all but as always, let me know if i missed something SCENE 3: virgin!Yeosang, mild dirty talk, praise (m receiving), oral (m receiving), grinding, low-key love making (it’s complicated), mild breeding kink, cum inside, slight hair pulling (m receiving) and that should be all of them!

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Outside the atmosphere was eerie, wind whipping through the trees as lightning flashed overhead, deep rumbles of thunder which shook the ground following the lightning. You didn’t stop to look back as you took off, hearing the door to your house open and your father scream after you.

You didn’t stop once, running for the forest. As you reached the large tree that marked the spot between the clearing of your village and the edge of the forest, remnants of a rope hung from a branch, swaying in the wind.

You could feel your heart break into a million tiny pieces as you stared at the rope. All your hopes, dreams, and plans had been hung with that rope and died just like your lover. You didn’t hesitate any longer, dashing into the trees as another yell of your name came, drowned out as the thunder grew louder.

As you ran through the woods, you could hear the sound of raindrops pelting the trees, hitting the ground and few even hitting the top of your head or your shoulders as you continued to run. At first, you weren’t sure where to go but the answer came to you as Hongjoong’s cabin came into view in the darkness.

The lack of light in the window was a solidification that Hongjoong was gone. You continued on, running over, pushing open the gate and letting it swing shut as you reached the door and pushed it open. You shut the door as the skies truly opened up, rain pouring through the trees as lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and the wind whipped the trees and vegetation.

Once in the safety of the cabin, you moved to start a fire, first lighting a candle that sat on the table. You then moved to the hearth and managed to start a fire and get it going. You knelt on the floor, looking around the now illuminated cabin as the storm raged outside. You knew you couldn’t stay here forever. Eventually they would come for you. You would have to finish packing Hongjoong’s things and leave in the cover of night.

A loud clap of thunder made you jump and your eyes landed on the shelf in front of the door to the hidden crawlspace. Your promise to Hongjoong came to the forefront of your mind. “Tomorrow,” you whispered. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

As you turned back to the fire, three loud knocks rang out from the door and you spun around, staring at the wood. You hadn’t latched the door when you came in and you were regretting that now. Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the forest briefly.

Your breathing came out in shallow, ragged breaths as you slowly got up. Another three knocks rang out as thunder cracked the skies overhead. Instead of moving to the door, you moved to the window, peering carefully out the window as another flash of lightning illuminated the garden. You couldn’t see anyone standing beyond the door.

As you pulled back, you started to wonder if maybe you were hearing things. You walked over to the door and hesitantly placed your hand on the wood, taking a few deep breaths. A flash of thunder, followed by another clap of thunder rang out and you sighed, letting out a shaky laugh until three more pounds on the door rattled it in place.

You let out an involuntary scream, jumping back and pulling your hand away. You stared at the wood and in a momentary surge of confidence, you grabbed the knob and threw the door open. You peered outside and saw nothing as the storm raged on. The goats were huddled in their shed and the chickens had returned to their coop.

You glanced around once more before backing into the cabin and shutting the door.

As you made your way back to the fire, another clap of thunder preceded three more loud knocks. Now you were getting annoyed. You crossed the cabin, wrenching the door open only to freeze at the sight of a dark figure standing outside the door.

Your words failed you as you watched the figure sway slowly before they turned. The light coming from the cabin was too dim to see that far out the door but when lightning flashed overhead, you couldn’t contain the gasp that escaped you.

Standing less than five feet from you was Hongjoong. He was covered in what seemed to be blood and caked in mud, soaked from head to toe. He had a far off expression, almost as if he were in some kind of trance. You clapped a hand over your mouth as you stared at him.

After a moment, you pulled your hand away, breathing shakily as your hands trembled.

“H-Hongjoong?” you whispered. This seemed to catch his attention. “Y/N?” he asked, taking a step forward. “What are you doing here?” You stared at him, shocked that he was even standing in front of you.

“I should be asking you that,” you said as he closed the distance, pulling you into a hug against his soaked form. “How did I get here?” he asked softly, his voice breaking. You wrapped your arms around him, noticing his shaking body.

“Come on,” you said softly, pulling back and guiding him inside the cabin, shutting the door behind him. “Let’s get your dried off.” You led him over to the hearth, making him sit down before moving to fetch some dry, clean clothes.

As you moved around, Hongjoong sat still save for his shaking. ‘He must be so cold,’ you thought as you returned to his side. “Why am I covered in dirt?” he asked, looking at his hands which looked to be caked in dirt and mud.

You reached up to start helping him undress. “Let’s get these wet clothes off you,” you murmured. “I’ll get some water to clean you off,” you added, standing up as Hongjoong continued to pull at his clothes. You grabbed the basin from the corner and turned to find Hongjoong standing, his shirt removed.

You let out a gasp and he turned to face you. Your eyes scanned his body, taking in the black vine like pattern that covered a good portion of his torso and arms. He looked down and muttered a curse as you walked over, setting the basin on the table and took his hands, inspecting them. 

You dipped a cloth in the water and tried scrubbing his hands but the dirt didn’t budge. It was then you inspected his hands and the markings a little closer. It looked like it had been burned into his skin. “It’s not dirt,” you whispered. “The skin has been… blackened.”

Hongjoong looked up, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face. “Blackened?” he asked, looking back down. “Burned?” You guided him to sit down, continuing to inspect his skin, wiping away any dirt that you did find. After a couple minutes, you looked up at him, kneeling before him. 

“What do you remember?”

Hongjoong looked down at you. “I…” he trailed off. “I don’t remember anything,” he continued, his voice breaking as he looked down at his hands, tears welling up in his eyes. “I don’t know what’s happened to me!”

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Hey, it’s all right,” you said soothingly. “I’m here. Calm down.” He nodded slowly, taking a few deep breaths. “Now, tell me what you do remember.” Hongjoong took one more deep breath before speaking.

“I remember a room without windows. It was small. There was a bed, a bedside table, and a wardrobe. I remember seeing Yeosang and… and you,” he explained. You nodded, taking his hands. “That was the room in the church they had you in,” you replied.

Hongjoong’s brow furrowed in confusion. “They had me? What do you mean?”

You sighed and stood up, pulling a chair over and sat down. “Hongjoong, do you remember the investigation?” you asked. He stared at you unmoving. “Investigation?” he whispered, looking away for a moment before his eyes moved back.

“They were holding me for questioning,” he said suddenly. You nodded. “Yes, exactly. Jonas and Yeosang had you staying in one of the rooms in the church while they questioned you. The villagers blamed you for the problems in the village. Do you recall that?”

Hongjoong nodded. “Yes,” he answered. “It’s all coming back now. I remember their questions and telling them the truth, that it wasn’t me!” he added. You nodded, taking his hand. “Exactly. The villagers didn’t believe you though, despite Yeosang’s insistence you were innocent. They decided you were guilty anyway and they—”

“They dragged me out of the church,” Hongjoong whispered, his eyes on your hands. “They dragged me out of the church and took me to the edge of the forest.” Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. “They’d hung a rope from the tree,” Hongjoong whispered.

He looked up, meeting your gaze. “Did they… kill me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Am I dead?” The tears finally broke past your shield and you nodded, tears spilling onto your cheeks.

“Then… what am I doing here?” he asked, looking around. He reached out to touch the table. “I can feel everything. The table, the floor, your hand,” he explained. His gaze looked up once more. “Do you remember anything else?” you asked.

“I remember darkness. The creak of the rope and then silence. It was so silent. And dark. It was so fucking dark, Y/N. I tried to scream but I couldn’t even hear myself. And then there was this intense, blinding light,” he choked out between sobs.

“And then I fell,” he gasped. “I fell for what felt like an eternity and it was still so dark. The light just disappeared. And then it just… stopped.” Your heart ached as he explained his experience. “That must have been after I died,” he murmured. 

“And then I heard a voice,” he whispered, looking up at you. “Your voice.”

You were caught off guard as you stared at him. “M-my voice?” He nodded.

And then it was gone. Silence again until I felt this pain. This intense, crippling pain. It was like I was being burned, all over my body,” he said and froze. Both your eyes trailed down to the scorch-like vines that littered his arms and torso.

Delicately, you traced one of the lines and looked up at Hongjoong. “Does it hurt?” you asked softly. He shook his head. “No,” he answered. “If anything… I can’t feel it. When you touch the skin, I don’t feel anything.”

You moved your hand, pressing your fingers against his non charred flesh. “What about that?” you asked. “Do you feel that?” Hongjoong nodded, looking down at your fingers. “Yes,” he said softly. Neither one of you said anything for what felt like a long time before he finally cleared his throat.

“I also remember laughter,” he continued in a trembling voice. “Not joyous laughter,” he added. “More maniacal. More… delirious.” You stared up at him as you listened, letting his words process. “And the pain…” his voice trailed off as he choked back a sob.

You pulled him into a hug. “It’s okay,” you said softly. It’s going to be alright,” you whispered. Your dress muffled the sound of his sobs as his body shook. You did your best to calm him, keeping a firm hold on him. You wanted to comfort him the way he always comforted you.

It took a few minutes for Hongjoong’s sobs to finally subside and when they did, you continued to rub his back for comfort. He pulled back, taking a deep breath. “And then,” he started. “It all just stopped.”

You took his face in your hands, wiping his tears away. “I woke up in the dark.” Your brows knit together in confusion. “You… woke up?” you asked, repeating his words. He nodded. “I felt around and all I could feel was wood. I knocked on it and it was hard but there wasn’t an echo.”

“The coffin,” you whispered. ‘At least they had the decency to put his body in a coffin,’ you thought before shaking your head slightly. “What happened after that?” you asked, caressing his cheek. “I summoned a ball of light and could see that I was in a coffin,” he explained. “And then, I don’t know what happened to me but it’s like I suddenly grew stronger.”

“I was able to break through the wood and claw my way through the dirt, pulling myself up out of the mud. And then I just started… walking,” he finished. You watched as he sat back and reached out, placing a hand on his. “I think when I was walking, I blacked out because the next thing I knew, I was standing in the rain and heard your voice.”

You sat unmoving, listening to his story with rapt attention. “And now… I don’t know what to think. Am I dead? Am I alive?” he whispered. You got up, grabbed the rag from the table, and dipped it into the basin. “Let’s worry about the formalities later,” you said as you wrung out the excess water and turned to Hongjoong. “First, let’s get you clean.”

Hongjoong nodded, sitting up as you moved to stand in front of him and took his chin gently in your hand as you carefully started to wipe the dirt, mud, and blood from his face. As your hand moved down, wiping the skin of his neck, your eyes fell on the bruising.

‘From the rope.’

Hongjoong noticed your hesitation and took your hand, pulling it to his face and pressing the back of your hand to his cheek. “You don’t know how much I missed your touch,” he sighed, eyes fluttering shut. You could stop the small smile from forming on your face as you turned your hand, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look up at you.

“No more than I missed yours,” you countered with a chuckle. Hongjoong’s hands moved to your hips, grabbing the material of your dress and pulled you closer, pressing his face into your stomach. “I missed this,” he said, his voice muffled as you combed your fingers through his hair. “I missed being here with you. Being alone together.”

“I missed it too,” you replied, brushing his hair back as he looked up at you. “Promise me you’ll never leave again,” you said softly to which Hongjoong nodded. “I promise, Starlight,” he whispered. Your smile grew and you casually wiped a fleck of mud off his cheek.

“You’ll have to take a bath tomorrow after the storm passes,” you said softly. “At the stream. It should be flooded now with all this rain,” you added, waving your hand as you turned back to the basin. Hongjoong stood, moving to stand behind you.

“Then why don’t we both take one tomorrow,” he suggested, resting his chin on your shoulder. You giggled as his hands slid up your hips to your waist, holding you in place. “I’m not even dirty,” you countered as you wrung out the rag.

You felt Hongjoong press into you from behind, his hard cock pressing against your backside. “That can be rectified,” he whispered in your ear, one hand sliding to your stomach before moving down, pulling up the hem of your skirt. “Hongjoong,” you started, words failing you as his hand dipped under your dress, sliding between your thighs and finding your clit with ease.

A moan escaped past your lips at the feeling and you leaned against the table, keeping your balance by pressing your hands against the wood. “You smell so good,” you heard Hongjoong whisper in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“Makes me want a taste,” he added, tongue darting out to lick up the side of your neck, making you gasp. His hands moved to your hips, turning you around to face him before smashing his lips against yours, parting your lips with his and allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth, muffling a groan.

Your back pressed against the edge of the table and Hongjoong pulled back to push the basin aside, knocking it and the water to the floor before he lifted you onto the table, pulling your dress up and ducking his head under the skirt.

You let out a moan, head falling back against the wood as his tongue met your clit, tracing around it and dancing over it. Your thighs rested on his shoulders as he licked and sucked at the sensitive bundle of nerves, making your back arch as you moaned loudly, unrestrained.

You felt his nails dig into the plush flesh of your thighs as he continued to lick and suck. You reached down, fingers knotting into his hair as he shook his head and before you could fall over the edge, he pulled back, inspecting his work.

You tried to protest but felt two fingers enter you slowly, a slight sting to the stretch that was quickly replaced with a dull ache. He moved, pumping his fingers in and out of you, slowly speeding up as his tongue returned to your clit, flicking against it rapidly.

Your orgasm came hurtling towards you, crashing over you quickly and making your legs shake as you chanted his name in quick succession. When the aftershocks of your orgasm subsided, Hongjoong pulled back, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand as he stood. He leaned over you, pulling you into a messy, passionate kiss as he started to undo your dress and peel it from your body.

Your own hands moved to his pants, undoing the ties and letting them fall as he pulled the last of your clothes off. He left a trail of light kisses down your neck, stopping to nip at your collar before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Tongue swirling around it as he kneaded the other with his hand. You ran your fingers through his hair as he lifted his head, his heated gaze sending a fresh wave of arousal throughout your body.

As if he could smell it, Hongjoong pulled back, looking down at your wet sex. He spread your folds with his thumbs and groaned at the sight. “Such a pretty pussy,” he murmured. “I missed this cunt so much,” he added. You let out a whine, wiggling your hips in a silent plea for him to fill you up with his cock.

“Is my Starlight impatient?” he cooed, looking up at you, giving you a smirk. You nodded, letting out another whine in an attempt to entice him. Hongjoong looked back down and you watched as he let a drop of saliva fall onto your sex. He took his cock in his hand and rubbed against your clit, gathering as much of your slick and his spit and coating the head of his cock.

He guided the head to your aching hole and looked up, meeting your gaze as he pushed into you, lips parting in a silent moan as his eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the sensation of your warm walls enveloping him.

“Fuck,” he cursed as he slid in, unrestrained, until his hips were flush with your ass. He repositioned your thighs, pushing them further apart and against your sides, allowing him to slip in just a little further. You let out a groan, feeling completely full of nothing but his cock.

“God I missed this,” he gasped, looking down where your bodies connected. He pulled back slowly, watching his cock reappear before slowly pushing back into you, letting out a moan. He repeated this, setting a very slow pace. It wasn’t enough to satisfy, just enough to keep you both on the edge.

You tried to meet his movements but he held you firmly in place. “I’m in control here, Starlight,” he said, his voice low. You looked up at him, eyes pleading. “Please, Hongjoong,” you whispered. “Please fuck me.” Hongjoong let out a groan, moving your legs to wrap around his waist before he pulled you up into a sitting position. “Hold onto me,” he murmured.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he easily lifted you off the table, carrying you over to the bed where you both fell, his cock never leaving you. Once you were on your back on the mattress, he resumed his movements, thrusting hard but slow into you, making you gasp with each thrust.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” he murmured as he continued to rock into you. “I did that last time,” he added. “This time, I’m going to do what I should have done for your first time and make love to you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he continued his rough thrusts but kept the pace slow, taking his time drawing it out for as long as he could. It was enough to keep your orgasm building but it was a slow build. You were growing impatient but didn’t say anything, not when it felt so good.

Hongjoong gave you a few more thrusts before he rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him and taking your hands. “Ride me,” he whispered. You hesitated, looking down at him. Of all the times you and Hongjoong had been sexually intimate, you’d never been on top, he’d always been in control and on top of you, regardless if you were on your back or your stomach.

“I’ve never…” you trailed off as he placed your hands on his chest, taking your hips in his and slowly lifted you. “Now back down,” he said softly, guiding you to sink back down, his cock sliding into you once more. “That’s right,” he whispered, helping you lift your hips.

“Now you control the speed,” he added. “Lean forward a little,” he added, moving one hand to the middle of your back and pressing forward. You followed his guidance, leaning forward slightly and moving your hands to the mattress, placing them on either side of his head as you raised and lowered your hips.

Each time you came back down on him, his cock fit snugly inside you, reaching deep. “You can go faster than that,” Hongjoong urged, reaching up to pull you against his chest before taking your hips and guiding your movements.

He thrust up to meet your movements, the sound of skin against skin filling the room along with the wet sound of his cock plunging into your cunt repeatedly. “Oh f-” you gasped, hiding your face in his neck. “I’m gonna—” your words were cut off by Hongjoong lifting your hips, ripping your orgasm away from you.

“Hongjoong!” you whined as he sat up, pushing you onto the bed beside him and bending you over. He entered you from behind, setting the same pace as before, pounding into you from behind. “Oh fuck,” you cried out, burying your face into the sheets. You felt Hongjoong’s grip on your hip lessen before a sharp smack rang out, your ass stinging.

He ran his hand over the spot soothingly. You clenched around him as he landed another blow to the other side and moaned loudly into the mattress. Hongjoong leaned forward, pushing you down against the mattress as he pinned you down with his weight.

He rolled his hips, driving his cock deep into you. You let out a scream of pleasure into the pillows, prompting him to wrap a hand around the front of your neck and pull your head up. “Let me hear that again,” he panted into your ear, rolling his hips once more. You tried to hold back, letting out a strained groan instead.

“Oh, we can’t have that,” Hongjoong said, thrusting into you harshly. A scream ripped from the back of your throat, filling the cabin. “I’ve never made you scream before,” he said as he rolled his hips, enjoying the way you moaned loudly, clenching hard around his cock.

“Have I, Starlight?”

You shook your head, letting out another scream when he thrust into you again. “Does it feel good?” he asked, resuming the same pace from before, pounding into you, keeping a firm hold on you as his hand moved from your throat to cup your chin and jaw.

“Does it feel good when I do that?” he asked again, punctuating his question with another harsh thrust, making you choke on a scream. “When I fuck you like this?” Words failed you as he continued to slam into you, the only sound you could make were moans and the occasional cry of pleasure.

“Feel’s so good,” Hongjoong grunted into your ear. He moved his hand to the back of your head, pushing your head down onto the side as he picked up the pace, slamming into you at a brutal pace, the sound of his hips hitting your ass drowning out your small whimpers and whines. It was rough. Rougher than he’d been before but it felt so good.

He suddenly slowed his pace, rolling his hips slowly to prolong your pleasure. “You still with me, Starlight?” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. You nodded weakly. Hongjoong pulled back, pulling out of you and carefully rolled you onto your back. He slotted himself between your thighs, slipping back into you and slowly thrusting into you.

“Look at me,” he murmured and you wearily opened your eyes, his smile greeting you. “There’s my girl,” he said, cupping your cheek. His thrusts picked up in speed, angled and precise as he tried to get you back up to the edge.

“Come on darling,” he whispered, thumb brushing over your cheek and down to your lips. “Open up for me,” he added softly. You parted your lips and moaned as he spit into your mouth. He resumed a quicker pace, thrusting into you, each movement making your already weak body bounce.

“You going to cum for me?” he whispered. “Gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock?” he asked. You nodded weakly, whimpering as your orgasm started to build. Hongjoong’s hand snaked between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbed circles around it quickly.

“That’s it,” he panted, his thrusts growing more erratic and less precise as he tried to get you to fall over the edge first. “That’s it, come on,” he groaned. Your back arched off the bed, your orgasm hitting you in waves, your body shuddering as your thighs shook, a mantra of moans mixed with his name leaving your lips. 

Hongjoong was quick to follow, burying his face in your neck as he let out a low moan, thrusting weakly into you as he came. His hot seed filled you and some of it even started to spill out as his cock continued to twitch until at last, he stopped thrusting.

You both laid there for several minutes, panting and covered in sweat until Hongjoong finally pulled out of and rolled off of you, falling onto the bed next to you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him start to stir and you fell into a deep slumber.

You woke the next morning in a daze. The storm had mostly passed during the night but it was still raining, drops falling softly onto the roof and hitting the glass panes of the windows. You sat up, groggily, and let out a moan of discomfort as a dull ache settled between your thighs.

Looking around, you noticed the cabin was empty. You glanced to the table where the chairs looked like they hadn’t been moved. The floor was clear of water and the basin was sitting in its frame in the corner, the rag hanging on the hook beside it.

You checked the floor and saw your clothes had been moved, folded neatly and sitting on the trunk that sat under the front window of the cabin by the door. Hongjoong’s clothes, and his being for that matter, were nowhere to be seen.

You scratched your head, looking around, wondering if last night had been nothing more than a strange dream. You let out an exasperated sigh and fell back against the bed, staring up at the underside of the roof as you wracked your brain, trying to remember anything other than the feeling of Hongjoong’s weight on top of you or the intense pleasure you were certain you felt last night.

‘What if it was merely a dream?’ you wondered, moving your hand to brush your fingertips over your lips. ‘What if Hongjoong wasn’t here and I just dreamt the entire thing?’ A sadness started welling up in your chest as you lay there, fighting the urge to cry as you remembered what transpired the night before you came to the cabin.

After the fight with your father, you couldn’t go back to the village. But you couldn’t stay here. You sat up and looked around once more, eyes falling on the shelf that covered the hidden panel. “The box,” you whispered. You hadn’t done it last night because of the storm but you could do it today. ‘Yes,’ you said to yourself.

“I’ll get dressed, make a quick breakfast and pack,” you whispered, glancing over to where your clothes sat. “Just the essentials so I can leave this place. Sooner or later, someone will come looking for me.”

Before you could move, another thought hit you and a fresh wave of sadness washed over you. 

‘Yeosang…’

You wondered if you would ever see the priest again but you were almost certain that you would not. Not once you left everything behind to start a new life somewhere far, far away from the village. You would miss aspects of your life near the forest but you couldn’t go back. Not now. Not after everything that had happened.

As you started to move, the front door latch turned, opening the door and you looked up, eyes wide as Hongjoong entered the cabin, carrying what looked like a basket. He was dressed, not in the clothes you had dreamt him in last night, but in some clean ones. He lowered his hood and turned, a smile gracing his face as he saw you sitting up in bed.

“You’re awake!” he said, his voice cheerful as he walked over to the table, setting the basket down. He removed his cloak, draping it over the back of one of the chairs and turned, crossing the distance to where you sat on the bed, sheets pulled up to cover your chest as you watched him, wide-eyed.

“I went to fetch some eggs,” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching up to caress your cheek. “I thought some breakfast might be nice,” he added, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. “I’ve also got some bacon. We could have that too, if you’d like?” You nodded wordlessly as he spoke. Hongjoong’s smile widened as he leaned in again, kissing you once more.

“Would you like to help me?” he whispered, lips brushing against yours. You nodded again. “Y-yes,” you stuttered, your throat going dry. Hongjoong bumped the tip of his nose against yours and pulled back. “Then get up, Starlight. Put some clothes on.”

He got up and headed back over to the table, leaving you breathless on the bed as your thoughts swirled about in your mind. ‘He’s… alive. So I wasn’t dreaming?’ You sat motionless on the bed, staring at Hongjoong, watching as he bustled about, setting a spider skillet over the fire and letting it heat up.

You moved slowly and carefully, crawling across the bed to grab your clothes from the trunk. Hongjoong used a small amount of what looked to be lard to grease the skillet and looked up as you returned to your spot, sheets still covering your chest as you unfolded your clothes. He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head.

“You know you don’t have to hide your body from me,” he said softly, drawing your attention. “I’ve seen everything,” he reminded you as he returned his gaze to the fire and resumed his work. “Multiple times.” Your cheeks burned and you let the sheets drop to your lap, picking your chemise back up and unfolding it. You pulled it on over your head before getting out of the bed.

Hongjoong watched you from where he was perched by the fire, waiting for the skillet to heat up. His eyes followed your every movement as you dressed in silence, pulling your dress on and making sure all the buttons were done up properly before you turned around to face him.

“What can I help with?” you asked, snapping him out of a sort of trance. He looked back at the fire before looking up. “Could you grab the bacon for me?” he asked. “It should be in the barrel over there,” he added, nodding in the direction of a barrel that stood in the front corner of the cabin.

You crossed the distance and pried open the barrel, finding what he was looking for and returned the lid, sealing the barrel before moving over to the hearth. You knelt down, letting out a whine as you reached his level. Hongjoong raised his gaze, a look of concern on his face as you handed him the bacon. “Are you alright, Starlight?” he asked, taking the package in one hand and taking your chin in the other.

“I’m okay,” you replied. “Just sore.” A look of realization passed over Hongjoong’s face before a smirk took its place. “I see,” he murmured. “Sorry about that, my love.” He pulled you in for a kiss before pulling away and turning to start placing strips of bacon in the skillet. “You just rest while I cook, alright?” he said, to which you shook your head.

“Really, I’m all right,” you insisted. “I can help you.” Hongjoong smiled as he added another slice of bacon which started to sizzle the moment it touched the hot pan. “If you insist,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You glanced down, noticing his hands and grabbed one, pulling it up to inspect. Hongjoong smiled, watching you turn his hand over and pull the cuff of his sleeve up to inspect his mysteriously clear skin. You were positive the night before his skin was charred, blackened and that it extended up his arms in swirling, vine-like patterns across his torso.

“I was surprised, too,” he admitted. “I woke up and it was gone. All the scorch marks. None of it remained.” You looked up to meet his gaze. “I thought I dreamt last night,” you whispered, tears threatening to well up in your eyes. Hongjoong caressed your cheek. “Oh, Starlight,” he said softly. 

“When I woke up, you were gone and the basin had been picked up and your clothes were gone,” you continued. “I thought last night had been some cruel dream, reminding me of what happened last night,” you said, a sob escaping you. Hongjoong pulled you into a tight embrace, his warmth surrounding you. “I’m right here, Starlight,” he whispered. “I’m not going anywhere. I don’t know what happened to me,” he added. “But I’m here and that’s all that matters.”

You nodded, burying your face in his chest as you clung to him, fingers digging into the cloth of his shirt. “I’m not letting you go this time,” you whispered. Hongjoong chuckled, the motion making your body bouncy slightly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said softly. “I don’t intend to go anywhere without you ever again.”

After a breakfast of eggs, bacon, and some bread, you set about helping Hongjoong clear things up. Hongjoong had set the dishes aside to be washed and while you were busy washing them in a pan of hot water and soap, Hongjoong brought the last piece, the spider skillet over now that it was cool to handle.

He stood beside you as you washed, grabbing a rag. “Let me help,” he said, moving to grab the already washed dishes. “That way we can finish quickly and maybe go for a walk or something,” he said with a smile. “Maybe go see the wildflower field?”

You worked mostly in silence except for Hongjoong’s occasional humming until you set aside the last dish which he picked up to dry. “Shall we put these away?” you asked, drying your hands as you turned to look at him. He nodded wordlessly, still humming as the two of you grabbed the now clean dishes to put away.

Hongjoong put them away while you wiped down the table. As you were working, you felt him sneak up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he peppered kisses up the side of your neck, making you giggle.

“That tickles,” you giggled, trying to pull away but he held you firmly in place. You felt his nose brush against the spot just under your ear and heard him breath in deeply. “You smell really, really good,” he murmured. You tried to turn in his hold but he was too strong.

“Hongjoong,” you started but let out a moan the next second as you felt his teeth graze against the skin of your neck. “Makes me want another taste,” he added, pressing you against the table as he grinded against you.

You steadied yourself, pressing your hands against the table and let out another shaky moan as he rolled his hips again. “H-Hongjoong,” you gasped, his hands gripping your skirt tightly as he continued to grind into your backside. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he could draw out your arousal and how easily your body gave in and responded to him.

Hongjoong let out a growl, one hand wrapping around the front of your throat, holding you back against him tightly. “I really can’t wait,” he growled into your ear. “Please, can I take you right here?” You nodded with a whimper, your hands moving to help him pull your skirt up. Once he had it up, his free hand slipped between your thighs, fingertips gathering your wetness and spreading your lips to find your clit.

From this angle, it was a much different experience as his fingers sank into your heat, your walls welcoming the intrusion without hesitation. “Fuck, you’re so warm,” he groaned, pumping his fingers in and out of you with ease as your arousal started to drip down the inside of your thighs. You let out a moan, head dropping as your hands caught you before you fell to the table.

Hongjoong removed his fingers from your cunt, instead moving to untie his pants and push them down just enough to free his cock. He brought the same hand that had been inside you to your mouth. “Spit,” he ordered. You did as he said, spitting into his hand which he then used to coat the shaft of his cock before taking it and aligning the head with your slit, gathering your juices with the tip before pushing into you.

You let out an unrestrained moan as he slid into you, bottoming out rather quickly. He released your throat, gently pushing you down until your chest rested against the table. He hiked the rest of your skirt up, exposing your backside to him as he grabbed your hips and started a slow, steady pace, thrusting into you carefully, watching his cock disappear into you.

Your hands moved, grabbing into the edge of the table as he increased speed, watching your cunt swallow him greedily. The steady pants you’d been releasing soon turned into wanton moans as he rocked into you, each thrust hard and deep.

“F-fuck,” he hissed, leaning forward as he continued his assault on your core, the sound of his skin hitting yours with each powerful thrust. “So fucking good,” he growled. “You take my cock like you were made for it, sweetheart.” You let out a whimper as you felt his nails dig into your skin. “So soft, pliant, and vulnerable,” you heard him whisper. “And entirely mine.”

You cried out as he thrust harder. “Does that feel good?” he cooed, a slight hint of condescension to his voice. You’d never heard him like that before. “You like it when I bend you over and fuck you like this?” he asked. His voice sounded… off. Almost like it wasn’t just him speaking but another voice was speaking with him.

“When I fuck you like a whore?”

You gasped, eyes snapping open and you tried to push yourself up but he stopped you. “What’s the matter, little lamb?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Don’t like being called that? You didn’t seem to mind when I called you a bitch in heat,” he continued.

“Or should I call you my whore?” he whispered. “Is that what does it for you? Being possessed?”

Your body succumbed to him, walls fluttering around him as you came with a moan. Hongjoong continued, hips never faltering as he pounded into you. It only took a few more minutes before he finally came with a growl, hips stuttering as he released into you, cum filling your cunt and spilling past his cock to drip to the floor and seep down the inside of your thighs.

You’d never known him to cum that much before. It was almost inhuman. As you both came down from your respective highs, Hongjoong littered kisses along the back of your neck, murmuring praise and apologies for what he’d said in the heat of the moment.

“I’m so sorry, Starlight,” he whispered into your ear. “That was too far.” While you agreed with him, you shook your head. “It’s alright,” you whispered back, not wanting to further upset yourself or the moment. You could always talk to him later about it, knowing he would listen to you no matter what.

After cleaning up again, you assisted Hongjoong with his chores for the rest of the morning, having a quick lunch and then going back to work. 

The meadow would have to wait.

A week passed by and you were surprised that no one came looking for you but in the same vein, you were also glad no one had sought you out. Not because you feared being dragged back but because you feared what might happen to Hongjoong if someone were to learn he was alive again.

You’d tried in vain to persuade him to pack up the cabin and leave. He had said if no one came looking for you after a week, perhaps it was a sign the two of you could live in the forest, undisturbed, and build your life together there.

As your time with Hongjoong increased, so did his sexual appetite. Every morning, as soon as you were both awake, he had his mouth and hands on you, bringing you to orgasm after orgasm before finally sliding into you. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you. Each time, he grew more and more rough and sometimes mean but afterwards, he always showered you in affection and attention, apologizing for taking things too far.

While it was certainly a change in personality, it only seemed to be present when you had sex. Otherwise, he was just as normal as ever. He was his usual sweet, doting, cheerful self, making you laugh and kissing your face until you giggled.

You had nothing to compare it to but for the few minutes he was rougher, it was merely a blip in the relationship you had outside of sex. Perhaps this was just one of the changes his brush with death had created.

How wrong you would come to be.

As you woke one morning, more than a week since Hongjoong’s return, you rolled over, reaching for Hongjoong, only to find his spot on the bed empty. Your eyes fluttered open and you half expected to see him standing by the table or crouched by the hearth. He wasn’t in either place. You gathered the sheets and sat up, glancing around the cabin and found no sign of him.

You got up, dressing quickly, and pulled on your boots. Once dressed, you opened the cabin door and peered out into the garden but found it empty except for the goats. You stepped out, letting the door shut behind you as you wandered out, looking around the forest.

You still saw no sign of Hongjoong and decided to check the stream which was where you usually collected water. The forest was alive, sunlight filtering through the trees to dance on the forest floor in patches of light.

Birds chirped and chittered happily as you made your way to the stream, following the path that led from Hongjoong’s place to the stream and beyond, running deeper into the forest. You’d only ever taken this path to the stream but never ventured further so you weren’t sure where it led or what was deeper into the darkest reaches of the forest.

As you neared the stream, noticing the trees thinning out a little, you caught sight of a figure kneeling at the water’s edge and smiled as you recognized Hongjoong’s mess of dark hair. You quickened your pace with a skip and rounded the bend in the path, smile widening as he came into view.

“There you are!” you called, noticing he didn’t even flinch when you spoke. As you drew closer, the sounds of the forest started to wane, birds in trees nearby took flight in squawks that sounded like cries of fear as they flew overhead and away from the area.

You noticed how the forest grew darker, like clouds blotting out the sun and the wind picked up, blowing the hem of your skirt around but still you continued forward. These were merely natural occurrences. The birds probably flew because you walked into the area, twigs breaking under your feet and startling them.

Clouds moved over the sun all the time and the wind often accompanied the movement of clouds. There was nothing sinister or otherworldly about it. You drew closer to Hongjoong, a new determination in your step as you walked over the dirt.

“Hongjoong?” you called, the forest around you now silent except for the wind.

“Stay back,” you heard him say. His voice sounded different again. Not unlike how he sounded the morning after his return but the second, deeper voice, was much… stronger this time. Something was definitely wrong.

“Joong?” you asked, moving even closer. “I said stay back!” he shouted, causing you to freeze momentarily. He really did not sound like his normal self but it only strengthened your resolve to see what was going on and if he was okay.

You ignored his warning as well as the warning in your own gut as you finally reached where he was crouched. “Hongjoong, are you feeling well?” you asked, leaning down to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

The moment your hand touched his shoulder, you pulled back, almost as though you’d been burned. He pulled away, turning so you couldn’t see him. “I said stay back,” he repeated. You could barely hear his voice, the deeper voice was more dominant.

You let out a huff and tried again, this time, grabbing him by the shoulder and attempting to turn him to face you. This time, you didn’t feel as though you’d been burned but Hongjoong reacted in a way you weren’t expecting.

He lashed out, throwing his arm back and pushing you to the ground. “LEAVE ME,” he growled, his voice sounding much deeper. Much more… demonic. You gasped as he looked over his shoulder at you. His face had changed. His eyes were no longer the dark, warm brown but instead two different irises full of fire looked back at you, surrounded by black.

Two small horns had poke through the surface of his skin just where his hairline started, the skin around them looked irritated and red, almost like a wound. The black marks that had covered his skin when he first returned were back, hands blackened but now the marks extended up his neck to his face.

You scooted back a couple paces, staring at him in shock and horror. As you stared at one another in the silent forest, you finally took a deep breath and got to your feet, watching as Hongjoong mimicked you, getting to his feet slowly. You took a step forward. 

“Hongjoong?” you asked as he turned to face you fully. He tilted his head to the side with a sickening crack. “Hongjoong?” he repeated in that same devilish voice, almost as if he was taunting you. A shiver ran up your spine but you chose once again to ignore the alarm bell in your own mind. That wasn’t important right now. All that mattered was making sure Hongjoong was okay.

“What happened to you?” you asked, taking another step forward. Hongjoong didn’t move as you continued, stopping a few paces from him and started to circle him, checking over his body to make sure he wasn’t injured. When you had put him between you and the stream, he moved. It was much too quickly for you to see but he turned at once to face you, standing up straight. You jumped and let out a squeak of surprise.

“Are you all—”

You couldn’t finish your question as he quickly had crossed the distance between you and you felt your back hit a tree, forcing a sound of pain from you as he pinned you against it, his hand closing around your throat. This was a huge contrast from the way his hand would go around your throat during sex. He was actually squeezing, cutting off your air supply.

You fought against him, trying to pull his hand away. “Please,” you whispered breathlessly. “I can’t breathe. Hongjoong,” you choked out. When you said his name, it snapped him out of it and he immediately let go of your throat, taking a step back.

You crumbled to the base of the tree, coughing as you reached up to massage your neck. When you looked back up, Hongjoong’s eyes had shifted back to normal, the same warm brown but they looked panicked, scared even.

He looked down at his hands, looking at his change in form. The blackened skin, the nails that had sharpened into claws at the tips of his fingers. He looked back up at you. “Y/N,” he whispered. “I’m so…” he trailed off, looking around the forest. “How did I get here?” he asked, his voice soft and full of fear. His gaze returned to you as you stood up, noticing the irritated skin of your neck.

“Oh g— did I do that?” he asked, tears welling up in his eyes. You tried to dismiss his concern, insisting you were fine but he wasn’t hearing it. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said, running his fingers through his hair and stopping when he felt the small horns on his forehead.

“What is happening to me?” he whispered, fingers gripping his hair as he stumbled backwards, boots splashing in the stream waters. You stepped forward but he held a hand out. “No!” he shouted, his voice normal but echoing around the forest. “Don’t come any closer. You need to leave. I can’t…” he trailed off, eyes falling to your neck again.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he said, his voice full of anguish. Before you could say anything, he turned and took off, much faster than you could see and suddenly, you were standing alone in the forest. You reached up to massage your neck again, wincing at the tenderness.

You had no idea which way Hongjoong had gone or even how far he’d gone so instead of attempting to follow him, you decided to return to the cabin, hoping at some point he’d come back. The walk back seemed to take ages and you were just returning as the sun set and you wondered if maybe you’d wandered aimlessly before finally reaching the cabin because how could you leave in the morning and return so late?

You pushed open the gate and stopped to feed the goats before heading inside, shutting the door behind you. You sat in one of the chairs at the table, staring at the wood in a sort of semi-conscious state before you shook yourself mentally.

You decided to make some tea and wait for Hongjoong to return. If he didn’t return that night, maybe he would come back the next morning. You poured the tea into a mug and let it steep for a while before finally taking a sip, letting out a sigh afterwards.

The sound of distant thunder made you look up, worried that Hongjoong was out in the forest on his own with the threat of a storm looming in the distance. “He’ll be okay,” you whispered to yourself. “He’ll be back and we’ll make up and be okay. It’s going to be fine.”

You weren’t sure how much time passed but you heard the front gate open and turned in your seat as the front door opened. Hongjoong appeared, his appearance had mostly gone back to normal, save for the horns and his hands.

He looked up as he entered, looking shocked to find you sitting at the table.

“Why did you come back?” he asked as he shut the door and moved over to the fire, kneeling to add more logs. You stared at the back of his head, looking incredulous. “Why did I come back?” you repeated his words. “Because I love you! Why wouldn’t I come back?”

Hongjoong winced slightly. “You should have left,” he whispered. You stared at him, appalled that he would even suggest you running away or abandoning him. “And go where?” you asked, attempting to conceal the hurt in your voice.

“Anywhere but here,” Hongjoong replied, his voice sounding flat and lifeless.

You froze, the room growing silent except for the crackling of the fire. After a few moments, you got up and walked over behind him, kneeling down and wrapping your arms around him. Hongjoong didn’t fight it, instead accepted the gesture and gently grabbed your arm, leaning his head into yours that rested on his shoulder.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the fire. “I don’t know either,” you replied. “But we’re going to face it and figure it out,” you continued, turning him to look at you. “Together,” you added. “Why?” Hongjoong asked, eyeing your neck, a fresh wave of sadness and disappointment crossing his face.

“After what I did, why would you stay?”

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Because I love you, damn it,” you replied. “I’m not giving up on you. I never did before so why would I now?”

Hongjoong’s eyes flickered between yours before dipping down to your lips briefly. You leaned in, granting him his silent wish, pressing your lips to his. He leaned into the kiss, wrapping an arm around your back as he laid you down on the floor of the cabin, in front of the fire.

“I love you so much,” you muttered against his lips, pulling back to look at him, your thumb brushing over his lips. He leaned into your touch, eyes shut as he sighed. He leaned down, capturing your lips in another kiss, his lips parting yours and tongue slipping past into your mouth. As the kiss grew in passion, his hands started to move, pulling your skirt up.

Under any other circumstance, you would give in easily because you loved it when he made love to you but right now was not the right time. “Hongjoong,” you said as he left a trail of wet kisses down your neck. “Stop.”

He didn’t seem to hear you so you cleared your throat and tried again. “Hongjoong, stop it,” you repeated, moving to grab his hands only for him to snatch you by the wrists and pin them down above your head with one hand. He went back to pulling the hem of your skirt up as you fought against him but his strength was shocking and you’d never noticed how strong he had become.

Finally you couldn’t stop the scream that erupted from you. “I said stop!”

Your voice snapped him out of it and he immediately pulled away, scooting back as you pulled yourself away, watching as he stood up and turned away from you. “You need to leave,” you heard him say, his voice wavering.

You started to pull yourself up. “Hongjoong?” you called, taking a hesitant step forward, the exchange in the forest earlier coming to mind. “I can’t control it anymore,” he whispered. “What are you saying?” you whispered. “You need to run before I…” Hongjoong trailed off.

You froze as he turned his head slowly, his brown eyes replaced with the same demon-like eyes, fiery red irises shrouded in black. The scorch marks returned to the skin of his neck, extending up onto his face. His lips parted in a devilish grin, exposing his now sharpened teeth.

You backed away, bumping into the table with a dull thud as you shook your head in disbelief. Terror filled your chest as he stared back at you with a taunting gaze. “H-Hongjoong?” you stammered, heart pounding in your chest. Every nerve in your body was firing off, hair standing on end as he turned fully to face you.

He’d changed again and something told you that this time, he wouldn’t be reverting back. He took a step forward, still watching you with those unnerving eyes. You were trapped between him and the table, your only form of escape being the door on the other side of the table,

You glanced back at it, finding it unlatched and unlocked. You looked back at Hongjoong, gasping as he seemed to grow in stature with the absence of your gaze. He now towered over you. “Poor little Y/N,” he said, the voice coming out of him not his. There wasn’t even a trace of his voice left. It was whatever had taken control of him.

“All alone in the forest with the big, bad, wolf,” the voice coming from Hongjoong continued.

“You should run,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, as if this was funny to him.

“Run little Lamb,” he continued, narrowing his eyes. “Run.”

He lunged for you and you grabbed the mug of hot tea, splashing it at him and hitting him square in the face. Hongjoong let out an inhuman screech, hands moving to cover his face as he backed away, giving you a chance to round the table and make for the door.

He let out a roar behind you as you opened the door, slamming it shut and rushing for the gate. The goats were bleating in fear as they ran around the garden, chickens clucking and squawking from the coop. You pushed the gate open and ran out onto the forest path.

Knowing it would take too long to follow the path, you started off it, picking up your skirt and jumping over fallen logs and branches as you ran away from the cabin in the direction of the village.

The sound of wood splintering rang out as Hongjoong undoubtedly broke through the door. Another roar rang out, sending chills up your spine as you picked up the pace, not pausing to look behind you. Heavy footfalls sounded behind you and you knew he had given chase.

You hurtled over fallen trees and branches, skipping over boulders as you ran for the edge of the forest, hoping for some reason he might not follow you into the village. It was a long shot but it might be worth it.

Yeosang had spent the last week taking up the task of patrolling the village at night, agreeing to do so after learning you had run away into the forest. He’d been too late to save Hongjoong, reaching the edge of the forest where the men had strung him from the tree branch. It was a sight he could not stomach and had violently gotten sick.

In the aftermath, he had hoped he might be able to save you but when he arrived at your parents’ home and learned of the fight and that you had nearly stabbed your father in what they called a fit of unchecked rage, Yeosang leapt at the chance to keep an eye out for you.

He knew that the mark in the floor from one of your mother’s knitting needles had been your intent. Regardless of the vile acts your father had carried out, he knew you were not capable of killing anyone. Your father was a twisted man but you… you were not. 

You were just hurt, feeling the pain of betrayal as was Yeosang. He felt as if he might as well have been strung up like Hongjoong and had his own life choked out of him for failing in the one task he’d promised to you. He was as much to blame as your father and the rest of the village was. He’d contributed to the breaking of your heart that night, too.

Despite being told numerous times to give up and not expect you to return, like a fool he was still outside, patrolling with a lantern for most of the night, hoping that you might show up so he could tell you how sorry he was. Wishing for one moment to apologize and tell you that you had every right to hate him as he already hated himself.

As he reached the forest during his pacing for what felt like the hundredth time, he heard a sound. Almost like a distant roar. He looked at the sky, watching and waiting for any sign of a storm but saw none. The sky was clear with very few clouds, stars glittering overhead.

He listened for a little longer before deciding it was just his imagination and started to turn away when a scream also rang out from the distance. He turned instantly, wide eyes scanning the trees. It sounded like a female scream.

As he turned back around and watched the forest, he heard the sound of twigs snapping and another scream rang out, this time much closer and clearer. Yeosang took a few steps forward, letting out a soft gasp when a figure emerged from the woods, stumbling over their own feet. As they moved into the light of the many torches that had been set up after you left he realized who it was.

“Y/N?” he called out, rushing forward to meet you. You were sobbing, your dress covered in dirt as you stumbled forward. Yeosang closed the distance, dropping his lantern and you collapsed, managing to catch you at the last second and you erupted into anguished sobs that bordered on wails.

He glanced up, eyes widening as he caught sight of something standing at the edge of the forest. Something tall and dark. It slowly retreated back into the forest until he couldn’t see it anymore.

A nearby door opened and one of the villagers appeared in their night dress. Yeosang looked up. “Go get Y/F/N. And Jonas!” he shouted. “Now!” Yeosang returned his attention to you as more people came out to see what the commotion was. Yeosang gently rocked you, shushing you as you continued to sob heavily.

“What happened?” a voice whispered. “I don’t know. I just came out and they were like this,” another said. “Where did she even come from?”

Yeosang tried to drown out the gossip and turned to one of the women who had come to offer their assistance. “Take her to her father’s house,” he ordered. “I’m going into the forest,” he explained. At this you pulled back, grabbing the front of his coat and shook your head violently. “No!” you shouted. “You can’t! D-don’t go in there! It’s n-not safe!”

Yeosang took your face in his hands and shushed you again, gently. “It’s alright, Y/N,” he said softly. “I’m just going to see—” you shook your head, cutting him off with incoherent babbles. Yeosang finally relented, seeing the true fear in your face. “Okay,” he relented as you started to hyperventilate. “I won’t go in. I promise,” he said quickly.

“Here,” he started, carefully getting up. “Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.” He guided you away from the crowd that had formed and to your parents’ house. The door opened as he approached and the look of anger on your mother’s face vanished instantly upon seeing the state you were in. “I can take her to the church if you would prefer,” Yeosang said softly as your father appeared behind your mother.

“No,” he said, a look of concern crossing his face as they both backed up. “Bring her in here,” he added. Yeosang guided you inside, keeping a firm but steady arm around your back. “What happened?” your father asked as your mother led Yeosang to the stairs.

“I don’t know,” Yeosang answered as they started to climb the steps. He followed your mother up to your room leading you in and carefully sitting you down on the bed. “Y/N,” he said calmly, taking your hands in his. “You’re safe,” he said as your mother and father looked on from the doorway. “You’re home and you’re safe.”

Your sobs had subsided into small hiccups as you stared blankly at him, not really seeing him. You had this far off look on your face. Yeosang stood, trying to pull away but your grip on him tightened and a new wave of hysteria washed over you. He quickly knelt in front of you again. “I’m going to step outside the room while your mother helps you change and puts you to bed,” he explained. You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Don’t abandon me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible enough for him to hear. He took your hands again. “I won’t,” he whispered. “I’m not going to leave. I just can’t be in here while your mother undresses you,” he explained, glancing over at your mother who crossed the room, taking a seat beside you and wrapping an arm around you.

“I will be downstairs,” Yeosang said. “I promise.” Your grip lessened as he stood up and pulled away. Your mother started doting on you as he reached the door and stepped out into the hall with your father, sighing as he shut the door. “What happened?” your father asked. Yeosang shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know,” he replied.

“I don’t have any answers. I was out patrolling when I heard a scream and the next thing I knew, she was sprinting out of the woods and collapsed into my arms as I reached her. She was sobbing, wailing like someone had been murdered right in front of her.”

Yeosang noticed the shift in your father’s body language but he continued on. “She could barely form a sentence. I figured I’d just bring her here and if you didn’t want her back, I’d take her to the church,” he explained. Your father nodded. “I’m not entirely thrilled to have her back after what she did but you were right to bring her here,” your father said softly.

“Her mother and I will keep an eye on her,” he continued as he led Yeosang down the stairs. “I would like to come visit her during the day, if that’s alright,” Yeosang said as they reached the door. Your father hesitated before nodding. “Yes, of course,” he replied. “Thank you Pastor Kang.” Yeosang nodded and reached for the door but as he turned the knob, your father pushed the door shut.

“Since she’s back,” your father started in a hushed tone. “And with everything that’s happened, I don’t think anyone would blame you if you wouldn’t want to marry her now.”

Yeosang’s expression fell, anger bubbling in his stomach and threatening to rise up into his throat. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I don’t think that’s really what is important right now. Presently, I would like to make sure she is safe and looked after. Getting her back to a state of normalcy is the most urgent,” he responded.

Your father, looking very embarrassed, nodded, muttering to himself. “We will discuss this matter another time,” Yeosang added. He gave your father a very curt nod and opened the door, stepping out into the night and heading for the church.

He needed to speak to Jonas and tell him everything. Right now.

—————————————————————

It had been several days since you’d run out of the forest and into Yeosang and despite everyone’s best efforts, you remained in a catatonic state. Your mother struggled to get you to eat or speak. You barely slept at night, instead tossing and turning and being terrorized by nightmares. The day time only offered the relief of it no longer being dark.

Yeosang visited you multiple times each day to check on you. When he was near, you felt safer but you knew it was only a matter of time until Hongjoong came back to the village. Yeosang had placed a few protective charms around your home, especially in your room by the window and over the door.

He was certain that whatever he saw coming out of the forest after you wasn’t human. The fear he saw in your face as well as the way he felt upon seeing the figure confirmed in his mind that something dark and inhuman had been chasing you.

During his visits, Yeosang hoped you might open up and tell him what happened but each day, you refused to talk, lying in a catatonic state. Your mother tried to feed you while he was there and a few times, to save your mother from fighting you, Yeosang took over.

He was patient, sitting by your bedside waiting for any sign that you might be more receptive to food. He found that broth seemed to be the only thing you could stomach, solid foods making you sick and coming back up no matter how they were prepared.

Broth was easy and low energy but even sometimes after drinking it, you would still get sick, throwing up into the pail your mother set by your bedside. Yeosang was always there to help, holding the pail for you or rubbing your back soothingly as you retched.

He could see you growing weaker and weaker by the day and at the end of your first week back, you could barely even walk on your own. Your mother was at her wits end, trying to take care of the house but also of you and it was taking a toll on her.

“She just keeps throwing everything up, I don’t know what to do!” your mother said, nearly in tears as Yeosang sat at the dining table while she made some broth. “She can’t keep just drinking broth. She needs sustenance,” she added. Yeosang grimaced as he watched your mother work. “Ideally, yes,” he answered as he watched your mother pour the brother into a bowl and got up. “But currently, she can’t even keep this down,” he explained, picking up a large cup and taking the bowl before pouring it into the cup.

“How do you expect her to keep down meat and potatoes when she can barely stomach liquids?” he asked, offering a kind smile. “We don’t know what she endured,” he continued. “But throwing up seems to be a trauma response to whatever horrors she faced. We have to be patient.”

After filling the cup with warm broth, Yeosang grabbed his book from the table and started up the steps, having grown rather familiar with your parents’ house by this point. He reached your door and softly knocked on it, calling your name. He turned the knob and peered in to find you lying on your back, pillows propping you up but your eyes were closed.

Or they had been when he opened the door. You must have been roused by the sound and your eyes slowly fluttered open. You looked even more exhausted and weary. “Did I wake you?” Yeosang asked softly. You shook your head.

Yeosang entered your room, shutting the door and walked over to the bed, setting your broth down and checking your pail. It had dried sick in it but not much. ‘Hard to throw anything up when there’s nothing in her stomach,’ he thought to himself. 

“I brought you something to eat,” he said, setting his book down and sitting on the edge of your bed. He leaned forward, resting his hand against your forehead before feeling your cheek. “You don’t have a fever, surprisingly,” he muttered, sitting back and looking down at you.

“You feel like eating?” he asked. You didn’t respond, instead staring at the ceiling. Yeosang reached out, gently caressing your cheek. “I wish you would eat, Y/N. I know it is difficult. That’s why I had your broth put in a cup so you can drink it easier than a bowl.”

He studied your face. “I thought I might read to you, if you’d like that,” he continued. “Maybe I could read to you and you can drink your broth,” he suggested. You still didn’t respond, merely laid there, staring at the ceiling. Yeosang got up and moved to the chair, grabbing his book and taking a seat before he opened the book.

“And don’t worry,” he added with a hint of a smile. “It’s not the bible. I’m trying to help you heal, not torture you.”

Yeosang spent the next couple hours reading to you from the book, checking on you every so often but there was no change. You hadn’t moved, the cup on your bedside remained untouched but he persevered. After reading for a couple hours, he said his goodbyes and left, heading down to the kitchen where your mother was. He left the broth on your bedside table, hoping that you might find the strength to drink it in his absence.

He left your house and went back to the church to report to Jonas who had asked for daily updates on your condition. He wanted to know the moment you were speaking again to get your side of the story as to what happened the day you returned to the village.

Afterwards, he went back to his own home and settled down for the night.

The next day, Yeosang stopped by your place in the morning to check on you. He greeted your mother as he walked in, having been told he could come and go as he pleased as long as he helped you. Yeosang asked if your mother had checked on you this morning and she shook her head. 

“I came right down the stairs to start my daily tasks,” she admitted. Yeosang noticed how exhausted she seemed. “Are you sleeping at night, Mrs. Y/L/N?” he asked, getting to his feet and walking over to check her temperature. “I’m alright,” she said. “No need to fuss over me.”

Yeosang let out a chuckle. “If you want to go and rest, I’ll take care of things here,” he offered. Your mother looked at him with wide eyes. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” she said, shaking her head. “I have a husband and a sick child to care for. I can hardly afford to be idle.”

Yeosang watched as she resumed, bustling about. “Then let me take care of Y/N,” Yeosang replied. Your mother turned to look at him. “I couldn’t ask you to do that,” she said, shaking her head. “You aren’t asking,” Yeosang said. “I’m offering.”

After staring at him for a moment, your mother finally conceded. “Alright. Can you first go get the cup of broth? I don’t think she drank it and I’m gonna try something different today.” Yeosang smiled and nodded, heading for the stairs and climbing them slowly.

He opened the door and peered into your room. You were lying on your side, eyes closed and you looked like you were finally sleeping. Yeosang quietly entered the room, taking care to move slowly so as to not make much noise. He walked over to the bedside table, checking the pail to find nothing new had been added. He grabbed the cup and lifted it, finding it much lighter than when he set it down.

A smile crossed his face when he found it mainly empty. He glanced at your sleeping form before he started to turn but felt a hand close around his wrist and looked down to see you looking up at him through sleepy eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly, kneeling down and gently stroking your head. “Go back to sleep,” he said softly. “I’m just taking this back downstairs.” You blinked sleepily at him before your eyes fluttered shut and you let out a soft sigh.

Yeosang continued stroking your head before he stood up and made his way to the door, checking to make sure you were still asleep before he shut the door and headed down to the kitchen where your mother was checking something cooking in a pot over the hearth.

She turned to look at Yeosang as he entered. “She finished the broth and the pail is empty,” he announced as he walked over to show your mother the empty cup. A look of relief passed over your mother’s face. “Is she awake?” she asked.

Yeosang shook his head. “She was briefly while I was in there, but she’s gone back to sleep so I think it best if we let her rest for now and bring her something to eat later,” he explained, feeling better when your mother nodded in agreement.

Yeosang stayed downstairs, insisting he help your mother around the house in your absence. Initially she refused but Yeosang said he would only tend to your chores just to lessen the burden. He worked diligently and without complaint for a few hours while your food cooked.

As he finished sweeping, your mother called him over. She had made lunch and despite his insistence, she made him sit down and eat before she let him head upstairs with your food. Upon entering your room, Yeosang found you lying on your side, eyes closed but it was clear you’d gotten sick and managed to pull the pail closer.

Rushing over, he set the bowl of food on the bedside and looked into the pail to find whatever you had ingested was now resting in the bottom of the pail. Yeosang sighed softly and grabbed a small rag from his pocket, kneeling down to carefully wipe the rest of the sick from the corner of your mouth and chin.

You started to stir as he finished, your eyes opening weakly. “Here,” he said softly, helping you sit up, rearranging your pillows so you were propped up. He sat on the edge of your bed. “You aren’t keeping anything down,” he said softly, watching as you avoided his gaze. “Hey,” he whispered, taking your hand.

“I’m not upset,” he started, feeling relieved when you looked up to meet his eyes. “I’m worried, Y/N. You aren’t eating, you’re barely sleeping, and you won’t speak. I thought we had made progress when you finished the broth but maybe it was too much for your stomach. Maybe you need smaller portions,” he mumbled.

You said nothing but you didn’t need to. “I’ll be right back,” he said, grabbing the bowl, and headed for the door. He rushed back downstairs, setting the bowl on the table, taking in your mother’s concerned face. “Did she get sick again?” she asked, mumbling a curse when Yeosang nodded. “Do you have any more of that broth?” he asked.

She nodded and got up. “Give me just a small cup of it. I think the portions are too big. She needs to eat smaller and then we can work her up.” With the broth in hand, Yeosang headed back upstairs and entered your room, giving you a smile as he walked over and set the cup on the bedside. “Take your time with it. If it takes you all day to eat it, that’s okay. Just sip it for now,” he explained as he grabbed the chair and moved it closer.

“Would you like me to read to you?” he asked. This time, instead of staring at him or the ceiling, you nodded. It was such a subtle movement but Yeosang, who had grown accustomed to you and was aware of even the slightest change, noticed.

He pulled out his book and resumed where he’d left off, reading a few chapters to you.

As he finished the third one, he looked up to find you fast asleep. He checked the cup and saw you had finished about half the broth and smiled as he got up, heading for the door and shutting it softly behind him.

It was progress but he would have to check in the morning to make sure you didn’t get sick in the middle of the night or in the morning. Yeosang left the house, bidding your parents farewell before heading home. 

The next day, when Yeosang came to check on you, your mother excitedly told him you had finished the rest of your broth and had not gotten sick in the night nor in the morning. Relief passed over them at the prospect that you might have been able to keep down the broth.

After helping with the morning chores, Yeosang headed up to your bedroom with your broth and a new book in addition to the one he’d been reading to you. He spent a few hours reading to you as you sipped on your broth until you fell asleep.

The next couple days went by the same. Yeosang had just spent the last few hours reading to you and lost track of time. Your parents invited him to stay for dinner and afterwards, he was on his way out, night having fallen already. 

As he walked, he heard a twig snapped and looked around, taking note of a young woman in a cloak walking towards the woods. He turned, watching her with a mixture of confusion and intrigue. Before her was a black ram which would walk a short distance before stopping and turning to look at her. Once she caught up, the ram would repeat the process.

Yeosang watched the scene unfold silently and when the woman disappeared into the shadows of the forest, he followed, stopping at the edge of the forest and peering around a tree to see the woman had only gone in so far that she wouldn’t be immediately spotted. She removed her cloak, revealing herself to be entirely nude underneath.

The ram turned and Yeosang watched with wide eyes as the animal shifted into a tall dark figure and held out a hand which the woman took. The figure guided her down onto the forest floor and Yeosang pulled back and turned away to avoid witnessing any more.

He hurried to the church instead of his home and opened it, climbing the stairs in the back hall to Jonas’ room where he knocked urgently. After a moment, the door opened and a very tired looking Jonas appeared. “Pastor Kang?” he asked. “What’s going on?”

Yeosang, who had all but run to the church, launched into an explanation of what he’d seen. Once he was done, Jonas nodded thoughtfully. “It sounds like we may have a demon lurking in the woods,” he said softly. “And what are we going to do about it?” Yeosang asked when Jonas didn’t elaborate further.

The elder minister looked up at him. “Oh, I’ll prepare some new protective charms and we’ll put them up around the village. That should help ward off the evil,” he said, nodding again. “If you’ll excuse me,” Jonas said. “I was in the middle of my prayers. Good evening, Pastor Kang.”

Yeosang bowed his head as Jonas closed the door and headed back down the steps and out of the church. Once he was back on flat ground, he glanced towards the forest as a chilly wind swept through the village. If Jonas was going to up the protective measures on the village, Yeosang would have to up them on your home.

The moon that should have been overhead was hidden by the clouds that had rolled in just after the sun had set beyond the horizon, blocking out the stars as well. The chill in the air would normally have deterred anyone from leaving their home but Yeosang was determined to catch a glimpse of that dark figure he’d seen twice now.

The oil in his lamp was getting low as he continued to walk around the village. He’d made three passes already around the perimeter, keeping a watchful eye on the edge of the forest. He knew he was being ridiculous but Yeosang was determined to figure out this mystery. He had his suspicions but he would not lay blame until he knew everything.

As he neared your parents’ home, he wondered how you had been fairing the last few days. He and Jonas had been busy placing protective ornaments around the village, over the front doors of each home. He’d made more to hang in your room and delivered them to your parents who promised to put them up for him.

As he turned away from the forest, something caught his eye, a shadow darker than the rest moving through the trees. Yeosang raised the lantern in his hand, hoping to extend the reach of the light but it didn’t seem to help. The shadow only disappeared. Yeosang followed, walking down to the edge of the forest and following it past the last house until he was at the corner of the clearing.

He scanned the tree line but saw nothing and decided to follow it behind the houses. As he reached the section of trees behind your home, he peered into the trees, squinting as if it would help him see through the darkness better.

There was a scraping behind him and he turned to face the backside of your house. As he scanned the building, his eyes focused on a dark shadow near the window at the top. He raised his lantern and let out a small gasp.

A dark figure was crawling up the wall, peering into your window. It extended a clawed hand towards the window and attempted to open it but Yeosang called up to the figure. “Who is that?” he asked. The figure froze, head whipping around.

Yeosang stumbled backwards as it glared at him with fiery red eyes. His foot hit a small stone and he nearly fell, regaining his balance and stood back up, looking around the house for any sign of the figure but it was nowhere to be seen.

Yeosang hurried around to the front of your house, still finding no sign of the figure and sighed. He would have to inform Jonas in the morning of what he had seen. He started heading back towards his home, checking the rest of the houses along the way.

The following morning, Yeosang entered the church to report his findings to Jonas who made note of them. As they were speaking, a scream rang out from the direction of the forest. Yeosang followed Jonas out of the church as a crowd started to gather.

“Get back!” a voice yelled. Yeosang and Jonas pushed their way to the front to find a gruesome scene unfolding before them. A body had been pulled out of the well and was currently being cradled by a woman who was wailing as he clung to the lifeless body.

The person who had yelled was Abel. He was trying to shield his wife, Prudence, from view. Yeosang approached, placing a calm hand on his shoulder before moving past him and kneeling beside his wife. She was sobbing uncontrollably and when Yeosang leaned down to look, he saw Judith’s face, pale and colorless. He sat back up as Jonas kneeled beside him.

“It’s Judith,” Yeosang whispered to the elder minister. Jonas glanced at him before turning his gaze back to the body. “I will handle the crowd, you tend to her,” he said softly, nodding at Prudence and standing up.

Yeosang placed a hand on Prudence’s back. “Let’s get her inside,” he said softly in a calm and kind voice. He removed his cloak, using it to shield Judith’s body from view and guided Judith’s mother to stand before he carefully picked up Judith’s corpse and followed Prudence into the house while Jonas spoke to the crowd that had gathered.

Yeosang followed Prudence to the kitchen where she cleared the dining table and Yeosang carefully set Judith down. “Would you be so kind as to fetch the village doctor,” Yeosang asked Prudence and Abel’s eldest child, Michael. He nodded and hurried out of the house.

Yeosang guided Prudence to the living room and sat her down, kneeling before her. “Tell me everything,” he said softly.

Between sobs, Prudence managed to tell him how Abel had gone to the well to fetch some water and that pulling the bucket up was proving to be a chore indeed. He asked for help and as he and two other men retrieved the bucket, they pulled up Judith’s body.

Yeosang’s heart sank as he turned to look through the doorway into the kitchen where Judith’s corpse lay, covered by his cloak. The door behind him opened and Michael returned with the doctor in tow, Abel and Jonas following close behind.

Yeosang got to his feet, gesturing for Michael to sit with his mother as Jonas instructed Abel to sit while the two priests followed the doctor into the kitchen. Yeosang pulled his cloak back and resisted the urge to gasp as he finally got a good look at Judith.

Her eyes were closed, as if she had been asleep. Other than the color being drained from her skin and due to her wet hair and clothes, she looked like she might have fallen in and drowned if it hadn’t been from the rip in her dress and the hole in her chest.

“Have you ever seen anything like this before, Doctor?” Jonas whispered. The doctor, Jones, had a look of shock on his face. It was clear to Yeosang he had, in fact, not seen anything like it before. “It looks as if…” he started, glancing towards the doorway before lowering his voice.

“As if her chest has been ripped open.”

Yeosang looked up from Judith’s face to the doctor. “Ripped open?” he repeated softly. “What kind of creature could do this?” Yeosang asked, keeping his voice low. The doctor shook his head. “I don’t know,” he replied. “Perhaps a bear or some kind of large cat—”

“There are no other marks on her,” Yeosang countered angrily. Jonas held his hand up. “Keep your voice down, Pastor Kang,” he said calmly. Yeosang took a step back, lowering his gaze. “Yes, of course. My apologies.”

Jonas leaned forward, peering into the gaping wound in Judith’s chest before standing back up and turning to the doctor. “Her heart seems to be missing,” he said softly. Yeosang looked up as Jones leaned forward to inspect as well, letting out a soft prayer.

“Can you close the wound?” Jonas asked, drawing both Yeosang and Jones’ attention. “I…” Jones turned to look at Yeosang but the younger minister said nothing, offering no help. “I can try. Bring her to my office. I’ll conduct my work there.”

Jonas nodded and left the kitchen to ask the family for a sheet or blanket to cover Judith so she can be moved. Abel and Michael tried to protest but Jonas insisted, so the doctor can close the hole in her chest, offer her some dignity.

Once a bed sheet had been retrieved, Michael and Abel carried Judith’s body over to Jones’ home so he could stitch the wound closed and Yeosang left the house in a daze. Had this been the work of the figure he’d seen last night? What was it? Some sort of demon?

Jonas called for a meeting of just the adults, leaving the children and young unmarried adults at home while he finally broke the news of Judith’s death and the manner in which her body was found. He also revealed that the culprit might possibly be a demon that was summoned no doubt after Hongjoong’s hasty execution.

“What does that mean?” Nicolas asked from his seat in the back of the church. “It means nothing,” Jonas answered. “Only that we must be vigilant and keep a watchful eye. Pastor Kang and I will fashion more protective charms and deliver them door to door so you may protect your homes from the demon.”

After the meeting, Yeosang was kept busy, fashioning more charms to have Jonas bless so they could give them to the villagers. Yeosang had already given your parents’ some of his own making so he saw no reason to make anymore for your family.

Once he had finished this task, he went by your parents’ home, apologizing for not visiting sooner. He helped your mother around the house and took your meal up to you. He was more than pleased to see you were starting to regain your strength and that you were eating actual food now. He spent a couple hours reading to you while you ate before he had to leave again.

The next two nights, the charms did not seem to work as two more women were killed. Sara’s body was found at the edge of the forest, strangled and Charity’s body was found just outside the pig’s pen while her head was found in the chicken coop. 

Sensing that they would most likely require help, Yeosang spoke to Jonas about sending out word to neighboring villages to ask for help. Jonas agreed and helped Yeosang write the letters and send them out. 

All they had to do now was wait.

—————————————————————

It had been several days since Yeosang sent out the letters and he was back out, patrolling at night. He and a few of the other villagers had agreed to take turns patrolling at night to keep an eye on the village and it was Yeosang’s turn. 

He was passing in front of the church when he heard the snap of a twig and turned his head to look between the church and the house next to it. “Is someone there?” he asked, his voice slightly raised. He waited for a response but when he got none, he was about to continue on until another snap and sound of footsteps.

He hesitated, staring into the dark until he remembered the dark figure he’d seen trying to get into your house and continued forward, one foot in front of the other as he walked between the buildings. As he reached the back, he peered around, seeing nothing standing out in the dark. He turned to look behind the house and saw nothing. As he turned to make his way back, he felt a hand grab him and his back slammed against the outside wall of the outhouse.

He tried to pull the hand off him but it proved to be too strong. The lantern fell and Yeosang looked up to find the same black fiery eyes looking back at him. The dark figure he’d seen outside your house.

“What do you want?” Yeosang choked out, grabbing at the hand around his throat. He watched as the blackened skin of the figure melted away, eyes wide in both shock and disbelief as the familiar face of Hongjoong appeared before him.

“It cannot be,” he whispered. Hongjoong smiled at him before letting go of Yeosang’s throat and took a step back. Yeosang fell to his knees, massaging his neck and coughing before he looked up at Hongjoong. “How?” was all he asked.

“How? How what?” Hongjoong asked, tilting his head. Yeosang was able to get a much better look at him now. All the blackened skin had melted away and Hongjoong as he had been before his death stood before him. His eyes were the same fiery red irises, surrounded by black and two small, black horns protruding through the skin of his forehead.

“How are you here?” Yeosang asked, looking up at Hongjoong as he stood motionless in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall behind him. “How did you come back?” Hongjoong let out a scoff.

“Does it really matter?” he asked, glaring at Yeosang. “No,” Yeosang said softly. “I guess it doesn’t. But what do you want? Why did you kill those women?” Hongjoong stared at Yeosang wordlessly for a moment before speaking.

“I’m just returning the favor to my murderers,” he replied. “I’m taking their futures away just as mine was ripped away from me.” Yeosang got up slowly, grabbing his lantern. “An eye for an eye will make the world blind,” he said, to which Hongjoong burst into laughter.

“Were you always this boring?” he asked. Yeosang frowned as he looked at Hongjoong. “Does this plan for retribution include Y/N?” he asked, taking note of the way Hongjoong tensed up, his smile falling. “Her father led the charge after all.”

Hongjoong uncrossed his arms and stalked forward, closing the distance between them. “Why wouldn’t it?” Hongjoong asked, his voice dangerously low. “Her father is just as guilty as the others. I’ll take his future from him, too.”

Yeosang resisted the urge to protest, instead taking a deep breath despite the pounding of his own heart and shaky breathing. This was the closest to hell he’d ever come and never want to do it again.

“What about your feelings for Y/N?” Yeosang asked softly. Hongjoong narrowed his eyes as he studied Yeosang’s face. Whatever he was expecting Hongjoong to say, it wasn’t what came out of his mouth next.

“What feelings?” 

Yeosang felt his heart sink as he looked at Hongjoong’s stoic expression. 

“You…” Yeosang’s words failed him. How could he just forget everything like that? After everything you’d been through to be together, the plans you both made, how could Hongjoong just toss it away like that? It made Yeosang so… angry. ‘How dare he?!’

“You and Y/N,” he started. “You loved her. You were so in love with her. How do you not still feel that way?” Yeosang demanded, his anger bubbling to the surface. Hongjoong studied him carefully, tilting his head from side to side before a smirk settled on his lips.

“Oh I see,” he said, taking a step forward. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

Yeosang took a step back, staring wide-eyed at Hongjoong. “W-what?” he whispered. “Of course not! I would never do that to Hongj—”

“How noble of you,” Hongjoong snapped. “Putting aside your feelings so the outsider that lives in the woods could have a chance at love.” Yeosang took note of the change in Hongjoong’s voice. It was deeper and it sounded like more than one person was talking at once.

It sounded… inhuman.

“Poor Pastor Kang. So young and lonely,” he continued, stalking forward as Yeosang backed away. “In love with a woman who would never love him back. How pathetic.” 

Each word was like a stab in the chest. He had never truly considered Hongjoong his friend and he knew Hongjoong never considered him a friend either but he had always respected Hongjoong. “Stop it,” Yeosang said as his back pressed against a tree.

“Regardless of what this mortal once felt for the human girl, she will die,” Hongjoong continued, the inhuman voice speaking through him. “I will get retribution and I will kill her.” Hongjoong started as he started to turn away. “And if you get in my way,” he continued before hesitating to look back.

“I’ll kill you too.”

Yeosang watched as he disappeared into the shadows of the house and from view. The sound returned to the night, crickets chirping loudly from the grass, an owl hooted in the distance and Yeosang snapped out of his horrific trance.

If it hadn’t been clear before, it was now; Hongjoong had returned but something else had come back with him. Only one question remained for Yeosang to answer.

Who had come back with him?

Loud banging at the door woke Yeosang with a start and he sat up with a gasp. He looked around in a sleepy daze as the loud knocks continued. He pulled back the sheets and grabbed a shirt, pulling it on as he stumbled through the house to the door.

He pulled it open, blinking in the bright light of the day. 

“It’s Y/N!” your father said, a look of fear on his face. “Something is wrong!”

Yeosang snapped out of his daze and moved to grab his coat, pulling on his boots and dressing in a hurry. He followed your father across the village to your house. As he entered, he could hear a commotion coming from upstairs.

 Yeosang pushed past your father and headed up the stairs quickly. Your bedroom door was open, your mother sitting on your bed, helping you sit up and holding the pail as you retched violently. “I don’t know what happened!” your mother said tearfully as Yeosang crossed the room.

“How long has she been like this?” Yeosang asked, looking at your mother as you vomited into the pail. “I don’t know! I came in to check on her and she was moaning in pain. Her pillow was drenched in sweat and she was warm to the touch. She started throwing up but she hasn’t stopped,” your mother explained quickly as Yeosang knelt down, lifting your face.

All the color had left you, your skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat and it was clear you were weak. “What’s wrong with her, Pastor Kang?” your father asked. Yeosang turned to look at him before looking at your mother. He finally looked at you as you retched again, a loud gagging sound coming from your throat.

“I can’t be certain,” Yeosang said. “What has she eaten recently?” he asked. “Just meat and potatoes, the same I have been giving her since she was able to keep food down,” your mother answered. You retched again, throwing up into the pail. Yeosang glanced down and noticed red swirling in your sick.

He looked up slowly at your mother. “Fetch the doctor,” Yeosang said softly. Your father stepped into the room. “What?” he asked. Before Yeosang could answer, you vomited again only instead of stomach contents, it was nothing but blood.

Your mother let out a wail as Yeosang turned to your father. “Call for the doctor!”

Your father stumbled out of the room and headed down the stairs as Yeosang stood up, removing his coat. “Has she been drinking anything?” Yeosang asked as he rolled up his sleeves. “Just cider,” your mother answered. “Where did the potatoes and meat come from?” Yeosang asked as he pressed his palm against your forehead.

“She’s growing cold,” he murmured. “Just from our reserves. The potatoes were harvested from our vegetable garden!” your mother answered as Yeosang took the pail from her, moving to the window to toss the contents out and move back to the bed.

“Do you have anything in the house that hasn’t come from outside?” he asked, looking up at your mother. “I have some bread from the neighbor. And some bone broth she made. I was getting low.” Yeosang guided your mother to her feet. “Heat up the broth. Do not take your eyes off it,” he instructed. “I will stay here with her.”

Your mother hesitated, looking at your sickly form. “Go!” he snapped. “The more time you waste, the worse she will get! I think she’s been poisoned.” At that, your mother hurried out of the room and he could hear her footsteps rush down the stairs.

Yeosang climbed onto your bed, settling next to you as he helped you sit up. He set the pail on the bed and grabbed the rag from your bedside, using it to wipe the blood from your chin. “He can’t enter your home,” he muttered to himself. “But that doesn’t mean he can’t poison your food.”

You let out a small sob and Yeosang felt his heart break. “It’s going to be alright,” he said softly. “Just stay with me, Y/N.” A fresh wave of nausea took over and you vomited violently into the pail, more blood. Yeosang wiped your face once more as heavy footsteps climbed the stairs. He looked up as Jones and your father entered the room.

“She’s vomiting blood,” Yeosang quickly explained. “I think she’s been poisoned.” He could see the expression on your father’s face change from confusion to anger. “Are you accusing us of—”

“I’m not accusing you of anything!” Yeosang snapped as Jones moved to start his examination. “Your food must have been tainted before coming into the home. The demon could have poisoned your food before you brought it in,” he continued, addressing your father.

“Then why aren’t we sick?” your father asked. Yeosang shook his head. “I do not know. I can’t offer any explanation.” Jones felt the sides of your neck, massaging before looking up at Yeosang and then to your father. “Is she allergic to anything?” he asked.

Your father stared at him. “Allergic? I don’t think so…” he trailed off. Jones murmured to himself. “I’ll need charcoal then,” he said, looking up at your father. “Charcoal?” your father asked. Yeosang was starting to grow tired of all the questions. “Whatever for?”

Jones turned to your father. “Do you want me to save her or not?” he asked, exasperatedly. Your father gulped and exited the room as another wave of nausea took over, causing you to vomit into the pail. Yeosang helped you lie back, wiping your face.

“Do you know if she’s allergic to anything?” Jones asked. Yeosang shook his head. “Not to my knowledge. She never mentioned anything.” Jones nodded as your father returned, fingers smeared with black as he held a few pieces of charcoal in his hand.

“Ahh, thank you,” Jones said, taking the pieces. “Were these outside?” Yeosang asked, looking up at your father who shook his head. “No,” he answered. “They were in the pantry.” Jones looked around. “Oh, do you have a mortar and pestle?” he asked. Your father disappeared for a few moments before returning with the item. 

Yeosang watched as the doctor ground up the charcoal for a few moments before turning. “Sit her up, please.” Yeosang did as asked, pulling you up and allowing your back to rest against his chest. “Open her mouth.” Yeosang did as instructed, holding your mouth open as Jones mixed the charcoal into a flask of liquid. 

“What is that?” Yeosang asked. “Wine,” Jones answered. “It’s from my home. It’s safe,” he added, noticing Yeosang’s expression. “Tilt her head back slightly, yes like that. Good,” he said. “She might fight this but it’s important she swallows it. If anything is in her system, this should flush it out.”

Yeosang nodded and kept one arm firmly around your chest as Jones tipped the glass, allowing the concoction to spill into your open mouth. He used his free hand to massage the front of your neck, forcing you to swallow. As soon as he went to pour more into your mouth, you gagged, struggling against Yeosang’s grip. 

“Hold her!” Jones said. Your father watched in horror from the doorway as Yeosang and Jones managed to get you under control and force you to drink the rest of the mixture. “She will start vomiting again,” Jones said breathlessly as he replaced the lid on the glass flask and you slumped back against Yeosang.

“It may get dirty, bloody even, but it is vital you let the antidote run its course,” Jones explained. The next moment, your body started convulsing and Yeosang grabbed the pail just as you sat up, grabbing the pail from him and vomiting into it. It looked horrid and smelled even worse.

Your father gagged and stepped out as you continued to retch, vomiting into the pail everything in your stomach. Yeosang eyed the contents, seeing nothing but black goo. After several minutes of this, you seemed to have run out of things in your stomach to throw up.

There was a strange gagging sound from your throat almost as if you were choking. “Something’s lodged in her throat,” Jones said, stepping forward but Yeosang was quicker. He gave you one solid thump on the back and whatever was stuck in your throat was forced out, hitting the inside side of the pail and falling into the black goo.

You let out an exhausted huff and slumped back against Yeosang once more, hands falling limp. Jones took the pail carefully. “I think the worst is past,” he said as he looked at your exhausted form. “I’ll fetch some water to clean her face,” he added. He walked out of the room, carrying the pail and Yeosang heard his footsteps wane as he descended the steps.

Grabbing the bloodstained rag, Yeosang attempted to wipe your face but wasn’t able to make much progress. Moments later, your mother appeared, carrying a small basin with water and handed Yeosang a clean rag before setting the water on the bed.

“Will she be alright?” your mother whispered as Yeosang dipped the rag in the water and started to clean your face, chin, mouth, and even neck. “I don’t know,” Yeosang answered truthfully. “I think Jones has done all he can. Now we must wait.”

Your mother nodded and headed for the door. “Could you bring that broth?” Yeosang asked, looking up from your sleeping expression. “I’d like to try and get something into her stomach as soon as allowed.” Your mother nodded and left the room.

Once Yeosang was satisfied you were cleaned, he leaned back against the pillows, letting you rest against his chest as he listened to the sound of your shallow breathing. He felt your forehead and while you were still clammy, he could have sworn he felt some warmth to your skin.

Hours passed, your mother finally returning with the broth as well as a bowl of something for Yeosang. “I’m sure you didn’t have time to eat before you came here. It’s just porridge,” she explained. Yeosang offered a smile, thanking her before turning his attention back to you.

Some time passed before Jones returned with your father. “I checked the pail,” Jones explained. “There was something in it.” Yeosang looked from the doctor to your father and back. “And what did you find?” he asked.

Jones stepped forward, presenting an item he no doubt washed thoroughly before handling it. It was a pendant. One Yeosang recognized. Before he could say anything, your father spoke. “It belonged to… him.” Yeosang looked up at him, realization setting in. He glanced back down at the pendant, staring up at him.

Just as he surmised, it had belonged to Hongjoong. But what was it doing in Y/N’s stomach and more importantly how did it get there?

Jones gave you one last examination and determined that only time would tell if he’d administered the antidote in time if it had even been poison to begin with. Yeosang and your father thanked the doctor and Yeosang remained behind while your father walked him out.

Yeosang ate the porridge your mother had brought him but as soon as he was done, he turned his attention back to you. “I know you don’t share the same faith as me,” he whispered. “But I’d like to pray for you, if you’ll let me?”

He’d been holding your hand in his and when your hand tightened, fingers lacing with his, Yeosang took that as you giving him your permission. He closed his eyes, silently praying to whatever god was listening that you would make it through this.

Yeosang stayed the rest of the day with you, refusing to leave your side. He was gently shaken awake by your mother. “Night has fallen,” your mother whispered, holding a candle. “You should sleep in your own bed. Come back in the morning,” she said. Yeosang shook his head. 

“No,” he answered. “I’ll stay here if that’s alright. I’ve been praying over her,” he added. “I must have fallen asleep. I’ll stay.” Your mother looked taken aback but when she noticed how peacefully you were sleeping in his arms, she relented. “Of course,” your mother replied, setting the candle down on the bedside table.

“Good night then, Pastor Kang,” she said as she walked to the door. “Good night,” Yeosang replied as the door shut, leaving you two alone in the dim light of the flame. “Now, where was I?” Yeosang murmured as he tried to trace his mental footsteps only to give up after a moment to start his prayer all over.

You slept through most of the next day, only getting sick once to cough up what was left of the charcoal and wine in your system. Yeosang managed to get you to sip a little of the broth and continued to recite the same prayer over and over.

Your father stayed out of the room, leaving your mother the only one to willingly enter. “He believes this is all his fault,” your mother said as he sat on the chair beside your bed, doing some mending while Yeosang listened to her.

You were fast asleep in his arms, your breathing had evened out and your sweat had lessened. Instead of being cold, you were starting to grow warm again, like life was seeping back into your body. Holding you like this, so close, made Yeosang feel even more protective over you.

He looked up, looking towards your mother who kept her eyes on her sewing. He was tempted to say that your father was indeed responsible for all of this but he bit his tongue, not wanting to open that jar. ‘All in time,’ he told himself.

Your mother looked up from her sewing and lowered her hands. “Could I ask you something, Pastor Kang?” she asked, drawing his attention. “Hm?” Yeosang hummed. Your mother hesitated, glancing at your sleeping face before speaking in a low voice.

“Do you love her?”

Yeosang hesitated, not because he didn’t know the answer. The truth was he did love you. As a friend, but also as more. He hadn’t found the time to confess to you but when he learned about you and Hongjoong, he knew he stood no chance, not when he saw the stolen glances between you when Hongjoong visited the village on occasion.

He knew you would never look at him that way and he was fine with that. He respected your choices. But love you he did. He showed it in his own way. When he warned you about the rumors and made you promise to stay out of the forest, when he shielded you from seeing or hearing things that might upset you, or when he agreed to marry you so he could push it back and free Hongjoong. He wanted your happiness above everything else, even if it cost him everything.

Yeosang looked up as your mother’s expectant and waiting face. He could be honest now, right? Hongjoong was gone, for all intents and purposes and what remained was no longer him. It couldn’t be. He died. Then why did Yeosang feel like telling the truth would feel like betraying Hongjoong or rather, the memory of him?

It felt selfish, that Hongjoong should lose everything and Yeosang could gain everything. It was life’s cruel trick, that he could stand to gain the love of his life but at the loss of hers.

He looked back down at your sleeping expression. Was it selfish when Hongjoong would never be able to fulfill the promises he had made you in life but Yeosang could offer you any and everything you wanted? If you wanted to leave the village and start a new life, Yeosang would give up everything he owned for your dream because he was willing to make that sacrifice for you. After all, isn’t that what love was? A series of compromises and self sacrifices?

Yeosang smiled to himself, reaching up to gently stroke your cheek. If it was selfish to do everything in his power to make you happy, then he would just have to be selfish.

“Yes,” he answered softly. “I do.”

The third day passed in the same fashion as the second. Yeosang spent a better part of the day praying, stopping only to eat and to feed you should you wake up. Your mother left the two of you alone and your father left the house early, not to return until dinner time.

Yeosang had just finished eating and was about to return to prayer when he looked down and saw your eyes looking up at him. He set his bowl aside and sat up, carefully helping you into a sitting position. “You’re awake,” he said softly. You reached up, cupping his cheek.

“Yeosang,” you said, your voice hoarse. He felt as if the world around him stopped upon hearing you speak finally. “Y/N,” he said with a laugh. “Y/M/N!” Yeosang called to the open door. “She’s awake!”

There were hurried footsteps and your mother appeared in the doorway, relief passing over her. “Oh Y/N,” she said, crossing the room and grabbing the chair to pull closer. “Hi, mama,” you said softly. Your mother’s lips parted in shock as you took one of your hands in both of hers and let out a soft cry, bowing her head.

“I’ll fetch Jones,” Yeosang started, moving to get up but you grabbed his arm. “No,” you whispered. “Don’t go.” Your mother smiled, letting go of your hand. “I will go. Stay with her,” your mother said as she got up and hurried out of the room.

Yeosang turned to look at you, a relieved smile on his face. “You have no idea how worried we were,” he started. You looked down from his face to your hand, moving it from his arm to take his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “You stayed with me, didn’t you?” you asked in a scratchy voice. Yeosang cleared his throat, looking at your joined hands.

“I did,” he answered. “I wanted to be here when you woke up.”

You looked back up at him and his breath caught in his throat. He could see the look in your eyes, it was one he’d only ever seen you give Hongjoong before. Something akin to adoration. It only lasted for a moment before footsteps interrupted the moment.

Your mother returned with the doctor and your father in tow.

“Okay, everyone out,” Jones instructed. “I need to examine my patient!” You turned to Yeosang who gave you a reassuring nod. “I will be back as soon as he’s done,” he said softly. “I need to go speak with Jonas and inform him of your condition.”

Yeosang grabbed his coat and headed down the steps with your mother and father. He pulled the coat on as your parents sat at the table. “I will return with Jonas,” Yeosang explained. “He asked me to inform him the moment Y/N woke up.” 

Yeosang exited the house, making his way to the church where he found Jonas tending to things in the office. “Pastor Kang,” Jonas said as Yeosang entered. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“Y/N is awake,” Yeosang explained quickly. “And more importantly,” he continued. 

“She is speaking.”

Jonas accompanied Yeosang back to your parents’ house and the two waited downstairs for Jones to give you the all clear. The doctor returned to the kitchen moments later and gave the priests permission to enter before he informed your parents of your condition.

Yeosang led the way up the stairs to your room, knocking gently before waiting for your soft voice to call out a simple come in. Yeosang opened the door, peering in to find you sitting upright, looking exhausted but better than you had in weeks.

You watched as Yeosang entered, eyes widening as Jonas also entered. Yeosang moved to your bedside, grabbing the chair and setting it a comfortable distance from your bed. He offered it to Jonas who held up his hand as he stood by the door that was now shut. “You take it,” he said to the younger priest. “She’s much more comfortable with you.”

Yeosang glanced at you before taking a seat. You looked from Yeosang to Jonas nervously. “Pretend I am not here, child,” Jonas said with a smile. “I’m merely here to listen to your testimony.” You turned your gaze to Yeosang. “We need you to tell us what happened,” Yeosang started. “After you ran away from the village in the aftermath of—”

“Hongjoong’s death,” you finished, surprising both Yeosang and Jonas. “I’ll try,” you said softly, reaching for a glass on the bedside table. Yeosang grabbed it and handed it to you. “Doctor Jones gave this to me. It’s water mixed with some sort of mineral. It’s supposed to help me regain my strength.” Yeosang smiled as you took a couple sips and took the glass from you, setting it back down.

“Where to begin,” you said softly. “From the beginning,” Yeosang encouraged. You nodded, taking a deep breath before starting your story.

“After my father told me what had transpired, I knew I couldn’t stay. I ran away from home and into the woods,” you started. “Where did you go?” Jonas asked, drawing yours and Yeosang’s attention. “To the cabin,” you answered. “Hongjoong’s cabin?” Yeosang asked, taking a deep breath when you nodded.

“I figured I would spend the night and in the morning, gather what I could and leave the village.” Your words sent a short pang through Yeosang. You had still planned to leave without Hongjoong but he could understand why. You continued, telling them about the knocking and the storm. “And then…” you trailed off.

“Then what?” Jonas asked. You looked up at him, tears welling up in your eyes. “He was outside the cabin,” you whispered, turning your gaze to Yeosang. “Who?” Jonas asked. “Hongjoong,” you answered. “He was covered in dirt and blood and in this trance but when I called his name, he snapped out of it. He came into the cabin and I couldn’t believe it. He was supposed to be dead.”

“But there he was, standing in front of me. He told me what he remembered happened. Something about brimstone and fire and darkness. I can’t remember all the details but to me it sounded like he was describing—”

“Hell,” Yeosang whispered. You nodded, eyes meeting his. “Then what happened?” You swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath. “Then I tried to clean his skin but the dirt wasn’t coming off and it was then I realized it wasn’t dirt. It was like his skin was charred. Burned.”

“Fascinating,” Jonas whispered. Yeosang turned to look at Jonas, finding his interest and choice of words odd. You cleared your throat. “And then what happened?” Jonas asked. You hesitated, looking at him before looking at Yeosang, looking uncomfortable.

“What happened?” Yeosang asked. “We…” you trailed off, lowering your gaze. “Are you saying you had relations with him?” Jonas asked bluntly, his straightforwardness making Yeosang increasingly uncomfortable with the situation. You nodded slowly as more tears formed.

“I see,” Jonas said softly but offered nothing else. “And then what happened?”

You spent the next several minutes telling as detailed an account of what happened from the multiple times you and Hongjoong had sex to his odd changes in behavior until you reached the day of your return.

“I had woken up to find Hongjoong missing so I went looking for him,” you explained, sniffling. “I found him crouched by the stream close to the cabin. I could tell something was wrong but when I tried to get him to open up to me, he lashed out,” you continued. “He grabbed me by the throat and pinned me against a tree. I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was going to die…”

Yeosang resisted the urge to take your hand, to comfort you. He knew he couldn’t do those things in front of Jonas. “Then he seemed to come to his senses and dropped me. He said he couldn’t control it and then he ran away. I couldn’t chase him because I had not seen which direction he had gone in,” you pressed on.

“So I went back to the cabin to wait for him.”

“And did he come back?” Jonas asked, his voice void of curiosity. You nodded, biting your lip to hold in a sob. “He did,” your voice broke as you spoke. “We talked and then he kissed me. He… tried to…” you choked out a sob, your grip on your sheets tightening.

Yeosang couldn’t hold back anymore and leaned forward, taking your hand gently. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I don’t think you need to say it. I can assume what happened.” You looked up at him, tears spilling down your cheeks. “So you ran?” Jonas asked, drawing yours and Yeosang’s attention again. You nodded. “I did,” you answered.

“I ran as fast as I could through the forest until I ran into Yeo – Pastor Kang,” you explained, looking down at your hands. “After that, everything is a blur.”

Jonas nodded wordlessly as he watched you and Yeosang in mild curiosity. “I see,” he said. “Well, I must return to the church. Thank you for your honesty and your testimony, Miss Y/N,” he said with a slight bow of his head. “It has been most informative.”

He bid you both farewell and turned to leave, closing the door behind him leaving you and Yeosang alone. You shifted in bed, readjusting the covers as Yeosang moved to sit on the chair beside your bed.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice soft and full of caution. You looked up to meet his gaze. “Yes?” you asked, voice hoarse. Yeosang picked up the glass of water and handed it to you, watching as you took a gulp before handing it back, thanking him.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he continued as he set the glass aside and turned his gaze on you. The look on your face must have caused him hesitation because he glanced away, not speaking. Perhaps he was seeking the right words.

“What is it?” you asked, sitting up against your pillows more, the bed linens rustling around you, causing Yeosang to turn his head back to look at you. You locked eyes, staring at one another before he finally spoke.

“The other night while I was on patrol, I ran into Hongjoong,” he started, looking down at his hands clasped together as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs. “I asked him about why he’s doing this and he said he wants to take the futures away from the men who killed him.” Yeosang fell silent as he let his words sink in.

You blinked slowly, waiting for him to continue his story. When he didn’t, you spoke up. “Didn’t my father lead the group?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Yeosang nodded silently, staring at his knuckles that were starting to turn white.

“And when I asked him if he planned to kill you–” Yeosang’s voice cracked and he stopped talking momentarily. You looked up from the sheets to the young pastor. “What did he say?” you asked, a lump forming in your throat as you waited for his response.

Yeosang took a deep breath, regaining control over himself before he sat up and looked up to meet your gaze. “He said he will kill you. He no longer has feelings for you. He only cares about retribution.”

Your stomach sank as he spoke, each word like a knife to your gut. You knew the Hongjoong you loved was gone but still learning that he wanted to kill you stung. It felt like someone taking a hot iron and jabbing it into your heart and twisting. You brought your hand up, placing it over your heart as your gaze fell back to the sheets. “I see,” you whispered.

You heard the sound of movement, the floor creaking as Yeosang stood and moved to sit on the edge of your bed. He took your free hand in both of his, the warmth of his hand a nice reprieve for your cold, clammy hands.

“I won’t let him,” he said softly. “Whatever I have to do, I will not let him hurt you.”

You looked up, meeting his soft gaze. “Thank you,” you replied, placing your other hand on top of his. “For telling me and for protecting me as you have while I was unresponsive. My parents told me that you stayed by my side the whole time I was on death’s door. Thank you for that as well, Yeosang.”

He said nothing, merely nodding his head, lowering his eyes to your joined hands. A thought crossed his mind and he briefly entertained bringing it up and after some internal back and forth, he let out a sigh, looking back up.

“I know this is not the time to speak of this, but before all of this, I had promised your parents that I would marry you,” he started, piquing your interest and you tilted your head slightly, curious as to what he was about to say.

“And after everything that’s happened, I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but I’d like to keep that promise,” Yeosang continued. “If you’ll still have me that is.” Your expression remained stoic as you regarded him, mulling over his words before a small smile broke across your face. It was the first genuine smile Yeosang had seen on your face in weeks.

“I’d like that,” you replied with a nod. “Especially if it will get me out of this house,” you added to which Yeosang looked mildly confused. You glanced towards the door before leaning in to speak in a hushed tone.

“I love my parents and I’m thankful for them taking me back but if I am to be honest,” you explained. “They’ve been insufferable since I returned. Especially after the sickness. Mother has barely slept or left my side and father looks worried all the time. I think getting married might ease their worries. Especially if it’s to you.”

Yeosang couldn’t help the small surge of pride from your revelation. “I’d like to marry you very much,” you added as you settled back against your pillows. Yeosang recognized the fatigue that took over your features and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll speak with your father,” he announced, lifting one of his hands to feel your cheek. “Your skin feels a little cool,” he added. “Get some rest.” You nodded as he stood up, leaning down to press a tender kiss against the top of your head. “Thank you for speaking with us,” he added as you settled down, reaching to pull the blankets up slightly and tuck you in.

As you slipped into slumber, Yeosang walked quietly to the door, opening it and shutting it softly before descending the stairs. Your father was sitting at the table while your mother tended to the pot hanging over the fire in the hearth. As Yeosang entered the room, they both turned to look at him.

“She’s resting,” he announced. “She’s exhausted herself.” Your mother let out a small sob and your father nodded, sighing heavily. Yeosang hesitated as your mother went back to the pot before he walked a few paces closer. “I’d like to speak to you about something,” he announced, drawing their attention again.

Yeosang looked from your mother to your father who gestured for him to sit. Yeosang waved his hand. “It won’t take long,” he explained. “But before, you asked me if I would marry your daughter to save her reputation. Your reputation,” he started.

He could see the solemn shame on your father’s face as he recalled the reasons for marrying you off before. “Look, Pastor Kang,” your father started. “You don’t have to do it anymore. I don’t think our reputation is worth saving at this point.”

Yeosang remained silent as your father spoke. “It was wrong of me to ask that a man of God take a… my daughter,” he explained. “So if you’d like to back out of it, I wouldn’t blame you.”

Yeosang let out a small huff before he moved over to the table, taking the seat across from your father who looked up in shock at the sudden movement. “I know that before you were trying to save face because of Y/N’s relationship with Hongjoong but I want you to know that I didn’t care about her relationship with Hongjoong before and I don't care about it now. If your offer is still on the table, I’d like to take it. If not, I’d still like to marry your daughter.”

Your mother let out a soft gasp, covering her mouth with her hand as your father looked from her to Yeosang, a look of confusion on his face. “I don’t understand… She’s not… she’s been…” he couldn’t seem to get the words out which worked out in Yeosang’s favor.

“I don’t care who she’s lain with. I care about your daughter, daresay, even love her. I wouldn’t care if she was a virgin or not. I want to protect her in any way I can,” Yeosang argued. He could tell by the looks on their faces, your parents couldn’t fathom why he wanted to marry you but after a moment of silence, your father finally nodded and stood up, Yeosang following suit. Your father held out his hand and Yeosang shook it.

“You have our permission and blessing. As soon as she is well enough.”

The following day, Yeosang had a notice hung up on the door of the church, announcing his intention to marry you and that should no one object, it would happen much sooner than later. As he was a pastor and in good standing with the village, absolutely no one objected to his intentions and all that was left was for you to get better.

It had been a few days since the notice was hung and you were still bed ridden as instructed by the village doctor. You had taken over mending for your mother since you could do that from the comfort of your bed. Yeosang visited you daily and most of the time you sat in a comfortable silence as you sewed and he read. Sometimes he would read to you while you worked. He always left before dinner, despite your mother insisting he stayed.

Once you were allowed to leave your bed, your activity increased and you started helping with small chores as your strength returned, as did the color to your skin. You’d been sickly and it had shown but you were starting to look healthy again.

Your mother traded with one of the neighbors to get some new material with which to make a dress for you to wear at the wedding. You helped by giving your input but it was still a modest piece of clothing that you could always incorporate into your wardrobe.

As the day approached, you saw less and less of Yeosang and were concerned that maybe he was getting cold feet until he came to visit the night before the wedding. He finally agreed to stay for dinner and it was the first time you left your room to eat.

Normally you would have eaten in your room but your finished dress hung in there and you were adamant on not letting Yeosang see it until the wedding. A silly thing to some but to you, it was important and when you had told him, he agreed that if it was important to you, then it was important to him.

Your mother had worked tirelessly that day preparing a nice roast dinner with boiled potatoes and a few other vegetables your mother had pulled from the garden. She’d also spent a good portion of the day preparing a nice dessert.

You sat across from Yeosang who sat between your mother and your father. It dawned on you as you sat there that in less than 24 hours, Yeosang would be your husband. Your thoughts were interrupted by your father who spoke up.

“And news on the demon situation?” he asked suddenly, making your head snap up as you looked at him before turning your attention to Yeosang. “I hardly think that kind of conversation is appropriate for the table, dear,” your mother responded, very pointedly. Yeosang glanced at you before speaking. “Nothing of note. No one else has died–” he explained.

“Praise be,” your mother interjected and you could see Yeosang attempt to keep his expression neutral but you knew deep down he was fighting the urge to laugh. “But he’s still out there and that’s all the more reason to be cautious,” Yeosang continued.

“He’s still after Y/N and he won’t leave until he gets what he wants.”

Silence fell over the table and you continued to eat, keeping your opinions and thoughts to yourself. You knew you could always talk about them with Yeosang but around your parents, you had to keep a facade. You couldn’t let it slip. Not now.

After dinner and dessert, Yeosang announced his departure. You walked him to the door as he thanked your parents for the meal. Once at the door, you stepped out onto the stoop, shutting the door behind you for a little bit of privacy with your soon-to-be husband.

“Are you alright?” he asked, no doubt wondering about your mental state after the conversation at the table. You nodded silently, reaching up to adjust the fastening of his cloak. “I am,” you answered when he continued to stare. 

“I know Hongjoong is gone. The Hongjoong I knew anyway. Whatever is left is a shell of him. And inside, an evil is parading around and masquerading as him. It must be stopped and banished,” you explained. Yeosang’s fingers curled gently around your wrist, eyes boring into yours.

“I know it can’t be easy,” Yeosang said softly. “I know you envisioned a life with him and that you loved him deeply. I’m not seeking to replace him,” he continued. You forced a smile. “But tomorrow I fully intend to promise myself to you. I know I can never make up for what you’ve lost—”

You leaned in, pulling Yeosang into a kiss, cutting him off. It was a chaste kiss without any ulterior motives. As you pulled back, a smile crossed your face. “I know,” you answered. “I don’t want you to replace Hongjoong. I just want to live my life.”

Yeosang’s hand moved up to cup your cheek as he stared into your eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” he asked, to which you nodded. “Yes,” you answered as he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

It was something you hadn’t experienced since before everything went to hell. Hongjoong had been the only one to show you this form of affection and getting from Yeosang now was something you weren’t prepared for.

“Tomorrow, then,” he whispered, standing back up and giving you a smile, one you returned as he slowly backed away before he turned and walked through the darkness until his clothing blended into the night.

“Tomorrow,” you repeated quietly.

The morning passed in a blur as you were woken up by your mother and told to bathe, cleaning yourself. Your father had gone to the meeting house to prepare for the ceremony as he would actually be the one officiating your wedding. You dressed in silence, aided by your mother who then stood back to admire her handiwork on your dress. It was a simple dress, cut from plain cloth but it was still a work of art.

You sat in your room, nervously twiddling your thumbs and getting up every once in a while to pace. After what felt like an eternity, your mother finally opened your door and told you it was time. You followed her downstairs and stopped just before entering the parlor. Your mother turned to you and smiled. 

“It’s just us, Yeosang, and a few of the neighbors,” she said softly, reaching up to caress your cheek. “I knew you wouldn’t want too many people here. So I’ve asked Eliza and her family to join us.” You smiled, thanking her for taking your feelings into consideration.

The door to the parlor opened and your father appeared, looking between you and your mother. “Well, are we ready?” he asked. You looked up and nodded before following your mother and father inside.

It was as your mother had said. Your parents, Eliza and her parents, and Jonas were present as Yeosang had no family in the village. He’d moved to the village on his own and since then, Jonas had become an unofficial father of sorts.

You crossed the room behind your parents and stopped when you reached Yeosang’s side. His eyes followed you as you walked and you felt a surge of pride inside yourself when you realized he was unable to take his eyes off you.

Your father stood before you, the others in attendance standing behind you as you waited for your father to start speaking. “Marriage is a part of our lives here and ingrained into each and every one of us. It is a civil matter but of course, a spiritual one as well,” your father said, reading from a page in his journal. You felt Yeosang’s hand close around yours, fingers lacing with your own, helping to calm and ground you,

“Before me stands two young adults who have agreed to enter in this union, knowing fully that it is a promise they make not only before their family but also to one another. Yeosang,” your father turned to look at him. 

“Will you have this woman as your wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of marriage? Will you love her, lead her, comfort, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, cleave only to her, as long as you both shall live?”

Your heart skipped as you realized this was it. The vows were simple and to the point. There was never any extreme pomp and circumstance to weddings in the village as shown by the fact that it was just you and your family and one of your oldest friends.

You glanced up at Yeosang who met your gaze before looking at your father, a smile gracing his face. “I will,” he answered. Your heart calmed a moment before you realized it was your turn, eyes widening as your father turned to look at you.

“Y/N, will you have this man as your wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Will you obey him, follow him, help him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, cleave only to him, as long as you both shall live?”

You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. You felt Yeosang give your hand a gentle squeeze and you looked up to meet his gaze, his soft brown eyes looking back at you. A calm settled over you as you looked into his eyes before responding without taking your eyes off him.

“I will.”

The moments that followed afterwards were a blur as the short ceremony concluded and your mother returned to the kitchen to make sure dinner was ready. Eliza and her mother joined while your father and Eliza’s father, Abel, stepped outside for a moment, leaving you alone with your new husband in the parlor. 

You stared at the painting that hung over the fireplace. It was a simple one you had painted not long ago of the wildflower field you used to visit with Hongjoong. It felt like a lifetime ago now. You heard Yeosang approach you cautiously, his footsteps careful.

“Y/N?” he asked, his voice quiet. You drew your attention away from the painting and turned to look at him. “Are you all right?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. You nodded, a smile growing on your face before you crossed the distance. Before you had the chance to say or do anything, the door to the parlor opened and Eliza peered in, a smirk on her face.

“Dinner is ready,” she announced.

Yeosang led the way to the kitchen where everyone had already gathered around the table. You joined them, sitting across from Yeosang and next to your mother. The dinner was not unlike the one your mother had made the night before. Instead of a roast, she made a baked chicken with all the fixings.

The conversation around the table was mostly between your parents, Eliza’s, and Jonas but occasionally Yeosang or you would chime in. After dinner and desserts, you headed upstairs with your mother to pack whatever you planned to take with you.

Yeosang had been given a modest house when he moved to the village. Jonas lived in the church but Yeosang had opted to live on his own instead of moving in with another family. Since his home already had everything you would need, you were only taking the necessities, your clothes, a few personal possessions, and your books.

Your father and Eliza’s father carted everything over and once you were ready, you left your parent’s home for the last time. Your mother cried, as you expected she would but you reminded her you weren’t that far away and you could always come visit which Yeosang agreed with.

Eliza and her mother returned home and once your father returned and you said your goodbye to him, you left with Yeosang and the elder pastor. The walk was silent between the three of you but you were grateful for the silence. Jonas accompanied the two of you until you passed the church where he bid the two of you goodnight and went inside, leaving you and your new husband to walk the last stretch to his home alone.

You had never seen Yeosang’s home but you knew it was a one story three-quarter house. Once inside, Yeosang gave you a very short tour which consisted of the living room, a kitchen off from which a well sized and stocked pantry was as well as a borning room which made your cheeks burn.

You were married now and expected to carry out your duties as a woman and a wife. You were sure Yeosang would want children at some point but perhaps that talk would take place after the demon had been dealt with.

Yeosang showed you to the two bedrooms, one at the back of the house off the kitchen, which was where he had already claimed as his own bedroom, and one in the front which was an offshoot from the vestibule. “You are more than welcome to have your own bedroom,” he explained as you returned to the kitchen. “I don’t mind sleeping alone.”

Ignoring his statement, you removed your cloak and draped it over the back of one of the chairs at the table before turning to him. “What’s upstairs?” you asked, looking at the ceiling. Yeosang followed your gaze. “Attic space,” he explained. “It’s just one large space.” He turned to look at you. “Would you like me to make the bed in the other bedroom?” he asked.

You shook your head, crossing the distance. “We’re married,” you started. “We don’t have to sleep in separate beds,” you explained, taking his hand and bringing it up to press your cheek into his palm. “We don’t have to share a bed if you aren’t comfortable with it,” he whispered but you looked up at him, a smile on your face.

“It’s okay,” you replied. “I want to.”

A silence fell between you as you stared up at him, eyes flickering down to his lips and back up. Yeosang must have read your actions because he licked his lips and cleared his throat.

“I know we’re married,” he started. “But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

You leaned in, lips inches from his. “I know,” you answered. You could feel a single tremor course through his body prompting you to place one of your hands against his chest and push him back until he was against the wall beside the door to the bedroom.

“I want this,” you continued. “We’re married so there’s no reason we can’t do what married couples do.” You pulled back slightly to look at him. “Unless, of course, you don’t want to?” Yeosang stared at you for a few seconds that seemed to stretch into minutes before carefully taking your face in his hands.

“If you think I don’t want to, then you’re wrong,” he whispered, eyes searching yours, admiring the sparkle that seemed to gleam from them. “Then do it,” you said softly. “Make me your wife in every sense of the word, Yeosang.”

The moment his name left your lips, Yeosang pulled you into a searing kiss. Your lips parted and to your surprise, you felt his tongue slip past your lips into your mouth. His hands trailed down to your hips, grabbing at your dress and pulling you closer, pressing your body against his. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, pulling back, letting out a groan as your hands pulled at his clothes. “I am,” you replied, one of your hands sliding up his chest and around to the back of his neck until your fingers curled into his hair.

“I’ve never been more sure in my life,” you added, tugging gently, forcing his head back and exposing his neck to you. Yeosang let out a soft groan at the sensation but he submitted completely to your touch. “Then go ahead, wife,” he murmured as your lips left a trail of kisses down the side of his neck.

With your free hand, you started to pull at the buttons of his clothes, undoing them one by one until his overcoat was open. You pulled back only enough to push it off him, letting it fall to the floor before going back in, nipping at the skin of his neck as your hands continued to undo his shirt.

Yeosang’s hands stayed at your hips as you continued to undress him. It wasn’t entirely lost on you that this might be the first time anyone had touched him like this and yet, his movements seemed to match yours, falling into a rhythm as he started to pull at your own clothes. Once you managed to remove his shirt, he stopped you, reaching up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your cheek tenderly.

You were about to ask what was wrong when he spoke, confirming your suspicions.

“I need to tell you,” he said, breathlessly. “I’ve never done this before. This is entirely new to me,” he continued, eyes fluttering shut as you leaned in, cutting him off with a kiss. “I know,” you replied. “It’s okay,” you reassured him before taking his hand and pulling him into the bedroom with you, not even bothering to shut the door as you led him over to the bed and guided him to sit.

He watched as you slowly started to remove your dress, a slight pink tinge reaching his cheeks as you undressed. “Shouldn’t I do that?” he asked softly. You fought the urge to smile, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth before you took his hands and guided them.

He maintained eye contact as he finished undoing the buttons of your dress and carefully pulled the fabric away from your body leaving you in your undergarments. You placed your hand on his chest and pushed him back, climbing onto the bed and forcing him to scoot further onto the mattress before straddling his hips.

One of his hands moved to the small of your back, fingers tracing a circular pattern against you through the thin material of your chemise. You took his face in your hands, studying his expression before leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he mumbled against your lips. You shook your head, pressing another kiss and then another. “Well you are,” he replied. “I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” he added between kisses, making you giggle, breaking your focus. “Am I?” you asked, pulling back to look into his eyes. He nodded silently, his free hand moving up to the side of your neck.

“I’m not just saying that because you’re my wife,” he continued. “I’ve always thought you were beautiful, Y/N.” You bit your lips to try and hide your smile but failed to stop the grin spreading across your face. “You’re beautiful, too, you know,” you replied.

“There’s something so… ethereal about you,” you added. Yeosang shook his head. “No,” he responded. “I’m not–” he started to say but you stopped him, pressing your fingers to his lips. “No, you are,” you retorted. “You’re beautiful, too, Yeosang.”

He didn’t respond, merely looked up at you before nodding, accepting your praise. “If you insist, my dear.” You nodded, pulling him close. “I do,” you answered. “In fact, I readily insist.” You sealed it with another kiss, moaning softly as his hands slid down your back until he had your waist in his hands.

He pulled you against him, your core grinding against him, brushing against the fabric of his trousers. You pulled back, placing both your hands on his chest and pushed, urging him to lie back against the mattress. “Lie down,” you said, which finally made him follow.

“You may be my husband,” you said, leaning over to kiss him once, twice, before speaking again. “And you may make all the decisions regarding our lives,” you continued, stopping him when he tried to interject. “But in this bedroom,” you whispered, lips ghosting over his.

“I am the one in charge.” As you spoke, your hand slipped between your bodies, finding the waistband of his pants and slipped under it, finding his hard cock and taking it firmly in your hand. The hiss Yeosang let out was uncharacteristic but it filled you with pride to have such an effect on him.

“Y/N,” he started as your hand moved, stroking him slowly. “Yes?” you whispered, eager to hear what he had to say as you continued to jerk your hand. “I’m yours,” he responded, eyes fluttering shut as you watched his face. “I’ve always been yours.”

‘Always?’ you thought, wondering what he could possibly mean but you would worry about that later. You squeezed slightly as your hand continued to move, taking note of Yeosang’s responses, reading his body language like a book.

He let out a whine as you removed your hand from his pants before pulling back to undo the ties of his trousers and slowly pull them down until you could toss them aside, leaving him completely nude under you.

You climbed back over him, straddling his hips as you settled down, feeling the smooth underside of his cock against your slick core. Yeosang let out a shuddering groan, hands moving to your hips to still your movements.

You gave him a few moments to adjust to the new feeling before his hands moved again, pulling your skirt up. “Shouldn’t we remove this?” he asked, his voice shaky. You took his wrists and guided his hands up to the tie at the top of your chemise.

“Go ahead,” you simply responded. “Undress me.” 

Yeosang hesitated before his fingers started to undo the ties, fumbling slightly as he did. Once it was untied, you merely pulled it off and dropped it off the side of the bed. You watched Yeosang’s eyes scanned your body, taking in the new sight before him.

After a few moments of silence and inaction, you took his hands again and guided them up to your chest. “You know you can touch me, right?” Yeosang nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. “I know,” he said softly. “It’s just all so new.”

You leaned over to press a kiss to his lips before sitting back up, slowly rolling your hips. You watched the way his eyes fluttered shut as you grinded against him before raising your hips slightly to reach between your bodies. Your fingers wrapped around his cock, lining the tip with your slit before you slowly sank down.

Yeosang let out a choked moan as your walls slowly swallowed his length. You resisted the urge to groan as he bottomed out, your pussy spasming around him as you both adjusted to the new feeling. “Yeosang?” you called softly, leaning over slightly and resting your hands against the mattress on either side of his head.

“Are you okay?”

You watched as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before he licked his lips and spoke in a slightly hoarse voice. “M’okay,” he answered, words slightly slurred. “Just give me a moment.” You nodded, dipping down to kiss him gently.

After a few moments, and a few more kisses, his hands moved from your chest down to your hips, urging you to move. “Okay,” he said, eyes fluttering open. “I think I’m ready.” You bit back a smile as you nodded, raising your hips enough for him to slide out of you until just the tip was in and then sank back down.

Yeosang let out another moan, his eyes shutting again as a shudder ran through his body. “I’m okay!” he said suddenly. “Keep going, please.” You did as he asked, setting a slow and steady pace. “How does it feel?” you whispered, lips hovering over his.

“G-good,” he answered in a shaky voice. “Just good?” you asked teasingly. “I think I can do better than just good.” You moved faster, hips bouncing on him as you took his cock deeper. Yeosang let out a hiss that sounded an awful lot like a curse but you didn’t dwell on it.

Instead you angled your hips, driving his cock into your cunt at a new angle and making you moan loudly. You felt his grip on your hips tighten, fingers digging into your skin as his hips now bucked up to meet your movements.

“How about that? Is that better?” you asked breathlessly. Yeosang nodded erratically, moans slipping past his lips as you brought both of you closer and closer to the brink.

“Y/N,” he gasped. “I’m not ready… I mean, I don’t want to — ” he fell silent but you were able to guess what he meant. “You don’t want it to end?” you asked, slowing your hips and rolling them instead. He nodded, hair sticking to his sweat covered forehead.

“Let’s change things up, shall we?” you asked. Yeosang opened his eyes slowly and looked up as you lifted off him, his cock slipping out of you. “What do you — ” he started as you grabbed his hand and pulled him up. “You take over,” you said, lying back against the mattress and parting your knees. Yeosang hesitated before moving between your thighs.

You were about to reach for him but instead, he took himself in his hand and guided the head to your fluttering hole. He didn’t need to be urged or guided as he pressed into you, letting out a moan as he slid back into you.

Before you could offer any guidance, he moved his hips, thrusting into you experimentally. You let out a gasp as he moved and spread your legs further. Yeosang was careful not to lay his weight on top of you as he continued to thrust into you.

“Am I… I mean… is this right?” he asked, his voice breathless as he looked down at you with those warm brown eyes. You nodded, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a messy kiss that was full of tongue. 

Your free hand found one of his and you took it, lacing your fingers with his as you felt the all too familiar sensation of your impending orgasm, the tension building in your body but before it could snap, Yeosang’s voice brought you out of it.

“I think I’m about to—”

“Do it,” you replied, cutting him off, your fingers curling into his hair. “Come inside me. Make me your wife,” you added, walls fluttering around his cock which drove him over the edge and he came with a groan, hips stilling as he released inside you. Your orgasm followed as he emptied himself inside you, making sure that you took every last drop with a few more thrusts before he finally stilled completely.

The next few minutes were a blur of panting, whispered praise on your end before Yeosang pulled his now soft cock out of you and rolled onto his back beside you. You lay there for a few more moments, eyes shut as you basked in the aftermath of your climax before you finally sighed and opened your eyes.

You sat up and turned your head to look at Yeosang who looked utterly spent beside you. Carefully you got up and walked out of the room to the kitchen to grab a cloth and wet it before returning to the bedroom. You wiped Yeosang down before yourself and then tossed the cloth aside before climbing into bed and pulling back the covers.

Yeosang muttered in protest as you pulled the linens up to cover your naked bodies. “Shouldn’t we put our night clothes on?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he started to drift off to sleep. You rolled over to face him and smiled, brushing his hair out of his eyes before pressing a kiss to his lips. “No,” you answered.

“We can sleep like this. Only we will know,” you added. You felt his arms encircle you, pulling your body closer as he muttered something that sounded like an agreement. Yeosang quickly fell into the embrace of slumber and you followed shortly thereafter, a dreamless sleep encompassing you both.

The calm before the storm.

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me unless stated otherwise.

[magpie-murder]

it'd be wild if they gave asgard's citizens phones in marvel i bet they'd have the best drama

20 notes

👴🏻 is-odin-dead-yet

No.

#date: 2023/11/23 #when will he croak #i've been running this blog for centuries #frigga for allfather #kick the bucket already i'm getting bored of posting here

112 notes

⛈️ god-of-thunder

I come to Tumblr with a regretful update. As you may know, my family and our fiercest warriors have been traveling between realms in search of our stolen relics.

While attempting to recover one, my brother lost his life in battle while protecting us. He shielded me with his body. My brother died a hero.

einherjarl-deactivated20231120

May he reach Folkvangr. My deepest condolences. But I thought Baldur was impervious to all harm...?

⛈️ god-of-thunder

It was Loki. :( I'm devastated.

einherjarl-deactivated20231120

Oh.

🐍 magic-theatre

is that all you can muster? "oh." you thought i was dead, and that's it? that's all you have? what do you mean by that? let's talk. :)

⛈️ god-of-thunder

You're alive? Where are you?

⛈️ god-of-thunder

Wait, what happened to @einherjarl? He deactivated?

⛈️ god-of-thunder

Loki?

23,034 notes

🎨 bragis-apprentice

Just finished custom making this handle

#metalwork #artists on tumblr #double sided axe #my art

2 notes

⚔️ aesir-warrior-tournament

⚡️LIGHTNING ROUND⚡️

einherjarl-deactivated20231120

?

einherjarl-deactivated20231120

Lady Sif is not one of The Warriors Three. It says it in the name. There are three of them. Not four.

Correct this.

✨️ the-dashingest

I voted for Sif.

🪓 valiant-festivals

I voted for Sif.

🔺️ grim-warrior

I voted for Sif.

✨️ the-dashingest

Wait, Hogun? But you didn't tell us you had a phone?

🔺️ grim-warrior

I don't.

#lady sif propaganda #lightning round #poll reblog #only one more round after this! #i'm so glad lady sif doesn't have tumblr lol #i hope you guys dont mind that a mortal is running this blog btw #i really didnt expect any of you to see this 😬 #and srry for the reblog spam #also hogun lol

1,879 notes

🐍 magic-theatre

i see your thirst edits, you sick freaks.

#start tagging me in them #and/or sending them to me

689 notes

⛵️ modern-technologist Follow

umm i'm in ohio to visit my parents and there's like. um . a giant wolf running alongside my car? i'd call animal control but this thing is ginormous and i don't think that would do anything.

it doesnt have a leash or anything (obv its bigger than my car) but it's covered in chains. what do i do??

@identifying-d𝚘gs-in-posts ??

🐕 identifying-dogs-in-posts Follow

Fenrir Lokison?

#😨

197 notes

✨️ the-dashingest

I really don't think Loki is that bad. Sure, he's had a rocky history, but I don't think he's done anything worthy of scorn. Besides, hasn't he just died and come back or something like that, anyway? He has a blank slate, in my book.

#is it just me? #i hear people saying we should banish or kill him #i find that idea preposterous #he's just misunderstood

208 notes

einherjarl-deactivated20231120

I'm not going to @ them, but ugh... Someone I'm acquainted with just died in battle, and honestly? I'm so relieved. Is that terrible? Don't answer that, I know that it is. I'll probably delete this in a few hours.

🐍 magic-theatre

that's what you get for vagueing.

cowards don't go to valhalla.

10,560 notes

🔮 alchemist-aura Follow Sponsored with Blaze 🔥

buy my potions! i'm having a Thor's Day sale! you can get an invisibility concoction for only 3 gold today! cheapest prices in the market! don't let that einar guy force you to pay 230 gold for a wyvern tooth when you can purchase an authentic one HERE from my brand new online shop

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the Asshole for taking my SIL to an anime convention?

My (42M) SIL (29F) has autism and was living with my MIL until she suddenly passed away from heart failure back in 2022. My wife (40F) and I both knew SIL likes to cosplay and go to conventions. Figuring that’s something she and MIL did together, I decided to tell her I want to take her to an anime convention the following year. We chose one that worked out for all of us, timeline wise, along with the costs of transportation, hotel, etc.

Now, this may be a controversial opinion, but I hate anime; nearly all of it is hypersexualized (aside from one, which I’ll get into in a moment). It makes me cringe that my oldest daughter (13F) loves anime, and that that’s all she ever wants to watch. Personally, I feel she’s getting too old for cartoons, but since I also have two younger children, I let it slide.

Prior to actually leaving for con, SIL had sent emails of videos and blogs all about attending anime conventions. Clearly eager to prepare us. She also had outbursts over all sorts of things and lashed out at us on multiple occasions; her emails were often filled with negativity, and simmering rage. In between all of this, we had her relocate to an apartment closer to us.

Anyway, SIL, my daughter, and I go to the airport, we get to the hotel and check-in. We explored the city for a few hours. Now, before all of this, SIL claims she has a “low heat tolerance”, and complained the entire time whenever we walked from Point A to Point B; yes, the city the con was at has good transit and yes I insisted we walk anyway. It’s good exercise! This led to her throwing a fit when we reached a museum I really wanted to check out. We took an Uber back to the hotel and I don’t hear from her again until the next day when we met up to have lunch.

She’s cosplaying a character I don’t recognize and doesn’t tell me anything about them when I asked; it was clearly supposed to be a boy character, though.

Next day, I got a text from SIL; she unexpectedly got her period. Great. Since she asked, I run and get her some pads, only to have to wait an hour in line. Also great. She’s cosplaying another character I don’t recognize. Some magical creature or a doll of some kind. Anyway, us three go into one of the viewing rooms to screen this anime SIL was insistent on showing us. Some Sherlock thing. My daughter likes it, and I’ll admit, I enjoyed it too; I think it is very kid friendly.

Last day, once again, I don’t see or hear from SIL until we meet up in the hotel lobby waiting for our ride to the airport. Seems she had a good time though. She was dressed as one of the kids from that hero anime my daughter likes. She also bought my daughter an axolotl plush (her favorite animal). Going through security was hell; SIL had the nerve to have an attitude the whole time (again later claiming she was overheated and cranky from her period). After we got home she claimed she was never traveling anywhere with me again.

In the days following, she returned the luggage my wife had leant her, having booby trapped it with a photo with the glass broken. Then informs me that her account was overdrawn (I would have gladly paid for more than I did, if she hadn’t been so bitchy).

When we went to her apartment to discuss this, she made the same claims: that she was tired and cranky from the heat, made worse from her period, that I was stressing her out half the time, but that she was grateful despite that because when her mom died, anime conventions were the first thing she was ready to give up.

She also claimed the photo she broke was taken the same year she first attempted to take her own life, and that triggered a panic attack on top of the meltdown she had after returning home.

And the kicker: apparently her mother barely spent any time at conventions, and only sometimes tagged along because she “wanted a vacation”.

Now she claims that I -I repeat I- ruined that Sherlock anime for her. And now is planning to attend a few more cons…Alone.

So what say you? Am I the Asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[dilfhos]

STRAY

#!WHO : SHIGARAKI TOMURA

#!CC: puppygirl!reader, thoughts of depravity, readers kinda naive, no thots just dick, there’s no expressive consent but reader’s kinda dumb and needy, use of “doggy” and “pup”. reader does actually bark (not them arf, yips! like a husky, heady bark.) MDNI.

+bringing back this banger from my old blog. you can also read it on my ao3. im nervous lol idk how its gonna hold up 2 years later, diff audience. i can’t remember the ask specifically but it was something like Shigaraki finding a stray and he ends up using her. omg and i want to tag @bakatenshii idk if you remember my old alias but i do remembered you loved this fic!

+NETWORK(S): @angelshub @bitchcraftinc (i keep forgetting to do this mL, excuse the random @/lovelies)

“Good girl,” Shigaraki whispers and he really means it, at least for now. It makes him think having a pet like you may not be all that bad…

Shigaraki still wonders how he ever let this be, an animal-woman hybrid living in his already cramped apartment. Doesn’t know why he hadn’t bothered to kick you out either. But it could be anybody’s guess as to why you still remain.

It all started when he got into an argument with his landlord, one that required him the self control to back off and avoid killing the bastard. It was rainy but Shigaraki paid no mind to the stinging raindrops that pelted his skin and soaked his clothes. It was dark out, but not too dark as to not notice you cowering against the side of his building upon his return. Your eyes were closed as you trembled in the cold rain.

Shigaraki didn’t know why he found himself moving closer to get a better look at you but when your eyes shot open, he found himself almost curious. He’d never seen anything like you before. Especially when your ears, you very doglike ears twitched forward, erect and alert. But you didn’t seem all that afraid. You were dressed in soaked shirt that was too big for you as it sagged off your body.

He crouched down and you inched toward him reluctantly and as you moved from your previous position, his eyes sought out the tail that had been tucked in between your legs.

“Hey, there you are,” Someone cooed from behind him. Shigaraki turned to eye the man. There was nothing all that remarkable about him; he wore all black, his hood over his head save for a few dark locks that stuck to his brows. Shigaraki wasn’t the least bit intimidated. But that couldn’t be said for you as you frantically dove into his arms, letting out a frightened whimper. Your ears flattened against your head as your hands curled into Shigaraki’s coat.

He wanted to back you off and leave from the situation as it had nothing to do with him and was fixing to do so when he looked down. Your pupils were blown and eyes glossy, pleading.

He sighed before standing, pulling you up with him to stand on trembling feet.

“She yours?” Shigaraki mumbled. You moved behind him, your hands tightening on his clothes.

“Heh, yeah, ran right out through the door. Isn’t that right baby?” You growled all while cowering behind Shigaraki’s form.

“No collar,” Shigaraki noted.

“Been meaning to get her one. C’mon baby, why don’t you leave the nice man alone and come back home with me?” He cooed.

The utter confidence and trust you had in Shigaraki at this moment was appalling. He barely covered the man in terms of height and upon first glance, he looked rather average. Definitely not the type to win in a fist fight. So why were you so dependent on him to save you?

Shigaraki didn’t have time to really think too much about it because the man advanced, silver glinting under the streetlamp. You yelped and cowered back against the wall again, covering your eyes.

You heard a grunt followed by a pained cry as that then died into the sound of pelting rain. When you lowered your shaky hands, Shigaraki was standing over a pile of what looked to be ash, the knife a few feet away.

Ever since that night, he couldn’t seem to shake you.

You’re loyal and to him, it’s annoying. Showing up at his doorsteps turns into you sleeping on his ratty couch. His chasing you away turns into grumbles of tolerance. The typical sneer he wears when you come sniffing around dissolved in hidden blushes and twitched lips as your distrustful cowering eventually turn into you becoming disturbingly comfortable around him.

After another day of pressing his key into the lock does he already see you on the other side of the door, tail whipping back and forth in excitement as you await his return. Except he isn’t really in the mood. Today was particularly bad and he wanted nothing more than to possibly let off steam, maybe watch something, blow his load and sleep.

“Stupid mutt, stop doing that!” He growls when his back immediately slams against the door, eyes narrowed in the way you smile up at him.

“Welcome home sir.” You beamed.

Another thing you picked up was calling him ‘sir’. Despite the many times he tells you not to. He wasn’t your last owner, and honestly, he’d like it if you didn’t call him anything. But every one of his complaints go through one ear and out the other with you having half the intelligence of an actual dog.

He recoils when he feels your tongue graze his neck. Groans when it doesn’t just end there. You’re licking his chin, his neck, and when your tongue laps over his lips, he’s trying to buck you off. But you’re so persistent as you press further against him, your front grinding up against his groin unknowingly.

Shigaraki bites back a moan at your ignorance, his cock already hardening from your aimless shifting.

You couldn’t feel the bulge pushing against your thigh? The soft grunts he’d release when you’d lap at the rough skin of his neck? You can’t be that stupid or then maybe you are.

But would it be that bad if you are? Because then he wouldn’t feel guilty when he dreams of stuffing you full with his cock. You practically ask for it every chance you get with him. The sleeping in his bed, your excessive show of affection, the sickening devotion in your eyes.

And then, isn’t it what he deserved? He did save you that night. Do you even remember how easy it could have been for him to just walk away? To give you up to that creep? Sure it only happened a few weeks ago but he thinks of that night as if it was only the last. How when he brought you home and went to retrieve a towel to dry you up, you were on your hands and knees practically presenting yourself to him as you slumped in exhaustion. As if giving him the go ahead to do what he wanted to and by gods, it took everything with him not to.

He wasn’t a hero, not by a long shot. And maybe you didn’t have the mental capacity to accept that he was actually a villain because in your eyes, he was your savior.

But as said, today was a particularly bad day and right now he felt anything but.

So just this once he’ll give in. Whether you wanted it or not didn’t matter to him at this point, already past contemplation. After all you’re his pet now, his property and if he can’t do this then what good are you really?

You release your little whimpers and when you look up, your eyes are wide, so full of confusion when he suddenly has you on your hands and knees pressing into you from behind on the floor. Your owner wears a new look, his eyes so feral, teeth gritted. And you know that look; it was the look of your last owner among all the other men that tried to take you on the streets. Hunger. Greed. Desperation.

And you should be wary, should cower away from the carnality in his eyes because you know better than anyone that when it’s present one thing is desired. Yet, you hold your ground. You don’t struggle, in fact he could just make out the way your hips shimmy back a little bit and the whine that surfaces from your throat.

You just can’t help it, the air around you has changed. A thick cloud of hot lust is weighing down around you and so much so, you can’t help but to submit. Besides you trust him one for reasons you can’t figure out.

Shigaraki refuses to meet your eyes, instead he quickly fumbles with his belt and takes out his hard cock. A blush spreads across his face when he eyes the steady slick trailing down your thighs and upon closer inspection he can see how swollen you were and that’s what does him in.

It’s what has him surging forward, bottoming out completely inside of you. Your ears flatten against your head as you let out the neediest sounding moan, one that has a shiver licking down his spine.

“Shit. Shit,” He should feel ashamed, taking advantage of you like this. But he clings on the fact that he’s a villain, that’s his justification. A villian with his pet, that’s all this is.

It’s fueling his newfound vigor as he speeds up, the heat of your tight cunny sucking him in with every cant of his hips.

His fingers dig into the plush of your hips as his own thrust forward, his cock forcing past your tight ring of muscle. You look back again, your eyes glossy with tears, long tongue hanging out as you whine and pant. He was so thick, so heavy within your tight, hot walls. Your nails scrape helplessly against the dingy carpet as he rocks into you with so much drive.

In the midst of your panting and whining surfaces his voice, so grating and filthy as he tumbles every degrading name in the book. It should worry him and yet it has his stomach knotting up, his thighs and glutes tightening as he holds on to your hips for dear life. And in the midst of that is the loud, wet, shlicks of each sink into you.

“My needy little bitch. Taking my cock like a good doggy,” He grits, eyeing the recoil of your ass against his hips.

His hand seeks out the base of your tail as he uses it as leverage to pull you back onto his cock. And it hurts, it has the tears spilling over and yet, your cunt only tightens around him some more.

“F-Feels good sir!” You cry out at about the same time as he mumbles,

“Good doggy, such a good pup,” And at his praise, your ears bend forward, and your tail begins to switch slowly in his gasp. You feel a knot in your tummy, desperately winding down to what you’re chasing. It has you rocking back against him needy to have, so so needy. And the way your resolve has melted away, it makes all his thoughts of guilt completely vanish, leaving him with an unbearable need to fill you up.

He’s quickly pulling out and flipping you onto your back, nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he spreads you wide.

You were so wet, inhumanly so as it’s gushing down onto the carpet and the sight alone has him nearly cumming right then and there but he holds it. At least until he’s thrusting into you again, your head thrown back as you let out a broken whine. Your tits bounce with all the force he’s using as he’s putting everything into these last moments. His one track kind only focuses in the tuft of fur above your cunny, at the way your puffy lips pull part each time he's pushing forward and the slick coating his cock.

You’re yelping with each kiss he delivers to your cervix, hands desperate to hold onto to your new owner. You reach out and he grasps your wrists, using you to thrust impossibly deeper into you. Static fills his mind as his eyes roll back, his hips slamming against yours, balls smacking your ass each time.

“Fuck, fuck cumming!”

“Sir! Sir please-” You cut your own self off with a heady bark, one that startles him. It’s also what has him groaning as he twitches, his seed spilling so suddenly into you. Your pussy milks him as you gush around his dick and it has him falling over, elbows pressed into the carpet on either side of your head. Your legs wrap around his waist as your hips shimmy up against him, whining as you push past your own limits, twitching every so slightly at the overstimulation and sealing this moment of what would be the best one in your simple little head.

“Good girl,” Shigaraki whispers and he really means it, at least for now. It makes him think having a pet like you may not be all that bad.

He also thinks he should probably name you.

dilfos. do not plagiarize any parts of my content— current or archival. all rights reserved.

[villainintern]

... is an upcoming Choicescript interactive fiction game! You can follow development updates on the dev blog here, view the forum page here, and play the demo here.

Villain Intern is currently on Chapter One: Onboarding as of 9/8/24, sitting at just over 30,000 words.

Play as an aspiring supervillain interning at UnderHand, a legacy criminal corporation. Start from the bottom and navigate a world where everyone has it out for you, leveraging your strange superhuman abilities and your knack for manipulation. Make a name for yourself as an executive villain (with your own swanky corner office!), or turn against your higher-ups and usurp the company,…or throw away your promising career for the greater good, I guess...

Powers and Customization:

Choose from two different ability trees. Play as either a homemade cyborg with (painful looking) mechanical augmentations of your own design, or a genetically mutated freak with mysterious, bizarre abilities derived from animal genes. Choose 3 of the 9 unique abilities available for each power type, which update (or mutate) to scale as you get stronger. Climb walls, perfectly mimic any voice, rotate your head 360 degrees, talk to the AI assistant in your brain, etc etc! As a rule, you start out villainous, but whether you’re charming or sinister, sniveling or demanding, and backstabbing or frontstabbing is up to you.

______________________________________________________________

Key Characters and Relationships

Relationship progression tracks two major stats- your connection with a character, and your rivalry, which are not mutually exclusive. So you can romance your greatest nemesis, backstab your closest friend, that kind of thing. Or both at once, with the same person, even..

Fellow Interns:

👾 Peter Hyde is your cubicle neighbor, a geeky slackoff who’s fond of novelty ties. Unlike you, Peter doesn’t really want to be here, but he seems for some reason unable to quit. Laid-back, conflict avoidant, and generally easy to manipulate, he’s easy minion material for the MC- but his attitude belies a volatile, monstrous secret. Which can be a great asset or a major risk, depending on if you can maintain your control over him.

🤖 T9-670 is a seven-foot tall ex-war machine. Once a military member conscripted to UnderHand’s private security decal, its contract didn’t end when it died- the soldier’s brain was transplanted into a humanoid steel frame with a dark glass plate for a face. T9 is doing some soul searching- it’s not totally sure if it even has one left, but it would like to have a purpose beyond fixing printers and mowing down UnderHand’s enemies with its plasma gun.

🔬 Dr. Dr. Elaine Foster is an up-and-coming mad scientist, assistant to the esteemed Dr. Shrink. Don’t bring up the fact that she has two doctorates and is still an intern. She’s a genius prodigy, but otherwise has no superhuman abilities, which causes her to be overlooked by your superiors. Passionate and inscrutable, she’s obsessed with making it to the top her own way, and will remain one step ahead of you if you aren’t careful.

🧪 Reid/Reney Sullivan (gender selectable, nb included) is your nemesis, or at least they think so. They’re employed by OverSight, the subsidized hero-corporation that works in tandem with the government. An interning hero with impressive telekinetic powers, they are nonetheless as much of an amateur as you, and so you find yourself on even footing with one of the most promising superheroes in the business. Earnest and witty, they genuinely just want to help people. Eventually, they become fixated on “figuring you out”, which can lead to them getting sucked into your schemes. That, or their meddling could be your downfall. Worst of all, they might even succeed in reforming you.

There’s also 👁️ Blink, a rogue superhuman- some say vigilante, others say independent villain. Completely anonymous, they wear a unique suit of tactical gear that allows them to turn completely invisible, the first of its kind. Their ultimate goal seems to be killing The Man, but maybe not for noble reasons; they want to BE him, to step into the role of The Man themselves and take over as CEO. Quippy, chipper, and sauntering, they tend to use their powers for ridiculous, showy things like popping up behind newscasters on TV. An invisible superhuman that loves the spotlight, Blink is full of contradictions. And secrets, big ones, that pertain to you.

… plus a cast of older, more established villains and heroes- including The Man, UnderHand’s enigmatic CEO. A faceless, hollow man in an empty suit. Actually, nobody’s ever seen anything but the suit, so he might just be the suit.

______________________________________________________________

FURTHER READING: 🌃THE PINTEREST BOARD 🎧THE PLAYLIST

[bonefall]

So, I'm writing an essay on the whole STATE of misogyny in WC for one of my university classes, and I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of things! No pressure of course, please feel free to say no!

A) Could I reference your good takes with appropriate harvard referencing and links back to your blog?

B) Are there any specific moments from the books that you think should be covered the most?

C) The end result will be a visual essay, so it's like those fun infographics people on Tumblr make on like ADHD and stuff, so when it's done, would you like to be tagged to read it?

(Sorry for anon, I'm nervous lmao, but if you'd be more comfortable I'll resend this off anon)

AAY good topic! You've got a lot to work with. Absolutely feel free to reference anything I've written, and tag me when you're done.

While you're here and about to write something so legitimate, I'm also going to recommend you check out Sunnyfall's video on gender in Warrior Cats. She breaks down the arcs into numbers, directly comparing the amount of lines mollies have to toms, and examining the archetypes women are usually allowed to be.

I think it's a must-have citation in a paper about WC misogyny.

...and, I think it's insightful to look at the WCRP Forum thread about the video. Note how the respondents immediately come into the thread to complain about how the video is too long so they didn't watch it, dismissing Sunnyfall as not being entertaining enough to hold their attention, even whining that she starts with statistics to prove her point, which I'm convinced she did exactly because they would have cried that she "had no evidence" if she didn't.

I am not a scholar, so I don't know how to document or prove that the books have an impact on the audience outside of anecdotes. But I think if you do write a section about fandom, it would be worth mentioning the in-universe and metatextual apologia for Ashfur and its reflection in the real world discourse, the authorial killing of Ferncloud because of fan complains, and the utter defensiveness against the discussion of misogyny you see outside of Tumblr.

You may also want to check out Cheek by Jowl, a collection of 8 essays about sexism in xenofiction by Ursula K. Le Guin. There's a very unique manifestation of authorial bias in animal fiction, having a lot to do with how the author views "the natural world," and it's worth understanding even though Warrior Cats are so heavily anthropomorphized.

So... Warrior Cats Misogyny

I think discussing individual instances can be helpful, but I'd implore you to keep in mind what's REALLY bad about WC's misogyny is framing and the bigger picture.

Bumble's death is shocking and insulting, but it's not just that she died. It's that the POV Gray Wing sees her as a fat, useless bitch who took his mate so she deserves to be dragged back to a domestic abuser, and he's right because the writers love him so much. It's that Bumble's torture and killing only factors into how it's going to hurt a man's reputation.

It's how Clear Sky hitting, emotionally manipulating, or killing the following women,

Bright Stream (pressured into leaving her home and family)

Storm (controlled her movements and yelled at her in public)

Misty (killed for land, children stolen)

Bumble (beaten unconscious, blamed nonsensically on a fox)

Alder (child abuse, hit when she refused to attack her brother)

Falling Feather (scratched on the face, subjected to public abuse and humiliation)

Tall Shadow (thrown into murderous crowd, attacked on-sight in heaven)

Rainswept Flower ("blacked out" in anger and murdered in cold blood)

Moth Flight (scratched on the face for saying denying medical treatment is mean, taken hostage in retaliation against mother for the death of his own child, which he caused)

Willow Tail (eyes gouged out for "stirring up trouble")

Is seen as totally understandable, forgivable, or not even questioned at all, when killing Gray Wing in an act of rage would have been "one step too far" with the ridiculous Star Line.

"Kill me and live with the memory, and then let the stars know it would only matter if a single one of your murder victims was a man."

It's the way that fathers who physically abuse their kids out of their ego (Clear Sky, Sandgorse, Crowfeather) aren't treated anywhere near the same level of narrative disgust and revulsion the series has for "bad moms", even if they're displaying symptoms of a post-partum mood disorder (depression, anxiety, and rage), an umbrella of mental illnesses 20% of all new mothers experience but are heavily stigmatized with (Sparkpelt, Palebird, Lizardstripe).

It's Crookedstar's Promise giving him two evil maternal figures in a single book, while bending over backwards to make every man in a position of power still look likeable in spite of the fact they're enabling Rainflower's abuse. Leader Hailstar is soso sorry that he has to change Stormkit's name for some reason, in spite of leaders being unaccountable dictators the other 99% of the time, and Deputy Shellheart functionally does nothing to stop his own son from being abused or even do much parenting before or after the fact.

It's the way men's parental struggles are seen sympathetically, and they don't have to "pay for it" like their female counterparts (Crookedstar's PPD vs Sparkpelt's PPD, how Daisy and Cinders are held responsible for Smoky and Whisper being deadbeats, Yellowfang's endless guilt for killing her son vs Onestar's purpose in life to kill his own), even to the point where a father doesn't have to have raised their kids at all to have a magical innate emotional connection to them (Tree's father Root, Tom the Wifebeater, Tigerstar and Hawkfrost).

It's less speaking lines and agency for female characters, being reduced to accessories in the lives of their mates and babies, women getting less diversity in their personalities, with even major ex-POV characters eventually becoming "sweet mom" tropes.

You could zoom in on any one of these examples and have an amoeba try to argue with you that "Oh THIS makes sense because X" or "Ah well my headcanon perfectly explains this thing" or "MY mother/girlfriend was abusive/toxic/neglectful and I've decided that you are personally attacking ME by having issues with how a character was written or utilized," but the beleaguered point,

That I keep trying to hammer in, over and over, across books worth of posts,

Is that these are trends. More than just a couple one-off examples. It's the fabric that has been woven over years, showing a lack of interest in, or even active prejudice of, women on behalf of the writers.

LONG STANDING trends, which have only gotten worse as the series progressed. From Yellowfang being harshly punished with a born evil son who ruins her life in TPB and the mistreatment of Squirrelpaw that begins in TNP, all the way up to the 7 Fridgenings of DOTC and Sparkpelt's PPD being a major character motivator for her son Nightheart.

So, I would stress that in your paper, and structure it less as "the Sparkpelt slide" and "the Yellowfang slide," and more as "The paternal vs maternal abuse" slide, and "the violence against women" slide. They're really big issues, there's tons of examples for each individual thing.

Anyway to leave off on a funny, look at this scene in Darkest Hour that I find unreasonably hilarious,

"Everyone who matters to me; my truest friend, my sensible and loyal warrior, the wisest deputy I've ever known, and 2 women." -Firestar, glorious idiot

He can't even think of a single trait for either of them what the hell does "formidable pair" mean lmaooo, when I finished a reread about a year ago this line killed me on impact.

[otomiyaa]

nice.png

(literally how I named the image, couldn't think of something else)

Hi guys :') To my followers and tumblr friends, I'm really sorry if my sudden disappearance scared or upset you. It wasn't quite... planned. And today was a busy day and I needed some time to consider what I wanted to do.

Short version of the story:

My tumblr account got terminated for copyright infringement. A certain Mr. Green got me in unlucky trouble (ref 1, 2).

I won't get it back, or try to get it back. It's gone.

Needed a moment to consider 2 options: ask Mia to extend my dramatic farewell letter and stay gone, or make a new blog.

Not planning to post new writing here. I won't be using words like 'never' or 'forever' because I'm a known clown with things like this, but the intention is to no longer post fics. I will finish Tickletober on AO3 and then take a break from writing. So yes, I cancel the swiftscribbles event too, sorry!

When I opened my laptop, I could see my old blog in its final hour lmao (I found out about the loss on my phone). So that's what the snap is from on a fitting grave. It was fun while it lasted!

Long version of the story:

Losing my blog(s): My Tumblr account with main blog + sideblogs got terminated overnight, it was quite the surprise! I've either been reported or tracked by bots. The posts are a bunch of numbered URLs I can't open, but the message is clear: for including anime content, genshin impact or media from other sources (whether it's videos, screenshots, official art, gifs or even fanwork) you technically can get a strike. Upon googling the claimer I quickly found this first, and knew it was a lost cause. Although it feels shitty and unlucky, I am in no place to appeal. It's like when I used to make AMVs in the past, you never knew whether a song or even anime footage was going to give your YT account a copyright strike or even a ban, it was a gamble. I have lost YT accounts before, and now I lost the Tumblr one. With 7+ years of tickle trash content and a bunch of sideblogs. But oh well, moving on!

Starting a new blog: It was a serious consideration whether this was my ultimate chance to do what I've always said I wanted to do eventually - quit my blog. My first thought was to ask Mia to share my explanation and literal goodbye with you guys, and stick to my chaos of a Twitter account to indulge in fandom stuff. But then I thought of how happy Tumblr made me, even without the fic writing, but just.. reblogging things, getting random asks, shouting about life and of course, about tickles. I decided to make a new blog after all, but also decided the following:

The 7K+ milestone swiftscribbles event is cancelled, for which I apologize! The follower milestone, together with the motivation to write the fics, and even the asks with the requests I got, all died with my former blog.

I will see how long I can survive without posting a new fic or drabble. A loose headcanon or two might fly around sometime. And if necessary, a link to a new fic on AO3.

Tickletober? Hell yes I'll finish it, I would cringe in bed for 49 days at least if I would stop. I just won't post the fics here, but on AO3.

Reposting/reblogging my old works? Undecided at the moment but I'm tired and lazy. I don't feel too upset since most of my fics are still on AO3 at least and not completely gone.

Anyways, I'll see what happens and how long I can enjoy this nerfed version of blogging.

Surprisingly I'm not upset about losing my other blog, there were a lot of memories but it was also very cringe. I'm gonna be just as cringe here, but at least I feel cleansed.

For those who choose to follow me again, thank you, but please know that there won't be much original content coming from me, for now!:)

[brabblesblog]

A little hope.

Set between chapters 10 and 11 of Whither has thy beloved gone? Astarion muses on the first time Ban smiled at him again since his ascension whilst watching her get her portrait painted.

Read on AO3. For @snowfolly, @marimosalad, and @iizuumi, incredible, kind artists who have been so kind to gift their art to me. I love you all!

Ban, by @iizuumi

Ban, by @snowfolly

Astarion snaps his fingers and a servant appears. He quickly rattles off instructions. A cup of her favorite tea, laced with some animal blood, warmed just the way she wanted it. Her favorite tailor is summoned.

He follows her to their old room, and deep inside he is giddy, an emotion he hasn’t felt in a long time.

She sits on her old desk, running her hands over the filigree. She has missed her comforts here. Her table where she worked. Their bed - the mattress a perfect softness and the sheets always immaculate until they methodically ruin it every night. She turns to Astarion, and seeing his grin, can’t help but smile back.

For a moment, all is well.

Whither is thy beloved gone?

Chapter 6

Astarion stands behind the artist they’ve commissioned, fingers idly scratching his chin as he watches the painting taking shape on the canvas. A good likeness, he thinks - it doesn’t exactly capture Ban, and he doubts any painting ever really can - but it is a decent attempt.

She smiles, and his own lips quirk up in response. She’s always looked better smiling, as rare a thing as it is nowadays, although they’ve been making some headway on that front.

I mean, she does smile, Astarion muses. Just not at -

The thought dies when he meets her eyes and sees hers locked onto his; hers are crinkled with amusement, and he feels his chest swell.

“Missed a button,” Ban says, nodding at him.

It takes a moment to register her words. His mind is back to when she had first smiled at him again - a genuine, honest-to-goodness smile, and not one of those manufactured ones she’s aimed at him since his ascension.

How she had sat at her desk, running her hands all over it. How she had looked around their room as if seeing it for the first time, and how she had turned to him and returned his grin with one of her own.

He’ll always remember that, he thinks. He’ll always have that to remind him that there is hope.

“Astarion.”

Her voice snaps him out of it, and he shifts awkwardly, hands moving to clasp behind his back as he straightens up.

“Yes, my love?”

“Your button. I’m not going to dinner in the upper city with your shirt askew like that,” she mutters.

“Or, you know, I could just unbutton everything and not go out at all,” Astarion counters. The laugh that rings out from her lips makes his heart flutter.

Ban shakes her head at him. “Maybe. Depends how nice you’ll be the rest of the day.”

“Darling,” he drawls. “I’ll be positively angelic.”

The painter clears his throat, annoyed that his subject is moving around too much. Astarion immediately shifts his attention towards him, eyes instantly glaring. Try doing that again.

Just as quickly he turns back to Ban, the hardness melting away as if it was never there at all. She’s back to holding the pose for the painter, and Astarion satisfies himself with observing the work.

There is still a long way to go, a distance he isn’t even sure he can traverse, but at least there is that.

A little hope.

Taglist: @elora-the-slutty-songstress @tragedybunny @spacebarbarianweird @ayselluna @enterthedreams @coltaire @qiific3 @misscrissfemmefatale @vixstarria @eatyourheartoutmylove @linllewellyn @ battisonsgf @micropoe10 @thegoodwitchs-blog @akirahime @velcyrptrr @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @babblebrain-blog @asterordinary @last-but-not-the-least @artist4theworld @gracemisconduct @decadentcoffeewizard @rootin-tootin-n-kind@pursuitseternal@youngtacobanana @krispeenuggiez @pursuitseternal@girlygmer-blog @cheezits4lyfe @vinegarjello @the0ldmann

[yugiohz]

i love this blog because most of you don't care about or follow bnha so i can vent here without getting dogpiled by other readers. also, everyone is welcome to comment, disagree etc. as long as you're respectful, what i don't like though is when people who haven't read bnha in years add comments/speculations ike bro you weren't there!!! anyway i put this rant under a read more ^-^

to preface this, I don't want to bitch and moan too much about this epilogue, Horikoshi seems to have given up and tbh we don't know what drove him to this point of resignation (probably overexertion).

I've made around 50 posts about the todoroki closure and what kind of ending they received, but i think there's one thing that bothered me that i never menitoned; I have a bone to pick with class 1A being granted immunity to everything while the villains have to bear the brunt of horikoshi's questionable decisions.

while i never really cared about class 1a, i've always respected that class 1A's community is a focal aspect of horikoshi's storytelling. In that regard, I wasn't surprised that Shoto would be okay with the dysfunctional state of his family because they've never been a support system for him , class 1A is his support system and where he first builds his genuine relationships and that's cute. I also think Shoto's shouout to class 1A in the epilogue tied rlly well into his fight with Dabi (the anime made it even nice imo), like i can't deny that shoto's 1st year of high school helped him so much on so many levels!

that being said, that transition from family to class 1A still left a bitter taste in my mouth because, to me (!!!!!!!!), it just felt emblematic of the ignorance and shortsightedness that permeates horikoshi's writing, especially coupled with these recent chapters; this epilogue enforces bnha's ignorant belief that as long as deku's immediate cirlce (class 1A) is fine and trying their best, we don't have to worry about anything else; Class 1A get to have their corny moments, survive heart attacks & open heart surgeries, their arms grow back, but NONE of that suspension of disbelief that it takes to accept this make-belief story is granted to the villains. The juxtaposition between how class 1A was handled vs. how the villains were handled is too jarring. This epilogue cemented to me (!!!) that heroes and villains seem to abide by 2 separate sets of diegetic rules/logic, which is just bad writing to me because there is no coherence behind it beyond the "good people deserve good endings and abjects of society deserve bad endings". you really can't be mad at "villain stans" for being incredibly frustrated when we SEE that horikoshi can very well bend some rules and make characters survive (which in itself isn't even my main gripe) and grant them kinder endings.

I love tragedies and I would be fine with some not so great outcomes (dabi) if the asymmetry between heroes and villains weren't to jarring. This epilogue made it very clear whom horikoshi deems worthy of kindness & dignity and whom he doesn't.

Class 1A getting to live in their little microcosm where they get rewareded for mere effort & can sing and dance all kumbaya while every single villain (VICTIM) dies is just insane. It feels perverse to me. and while i do think that shoto's love for class 1A is convincing and fits his arc, I also think that it's a bit ridiculous that horikoshi always emphasizes that love when shoto doesn't form significant relationships outside of the main boy circle, how come ochako is also part of that circle but he doesn't talk to her once (misogyny), horikoshi talks an awful lot about this particular bond when shoto has like 3 friends in that class, which is fine but you can't be mad at me for wanting him to put some effort into how shoto deals with his BROTHER like they should've gotten a bigger moment..........

I can come to terms with dabi's ending tbh. while i wouldn't have written it like that, he's always been a dead man walking so whatever, i can see the tragic value of it in some grotesque way even though i'd love for a victim to survive this violence. But shigaraki's ending is extremely insulting and leaves a very questionable message like what's the point of this.

whatever this epilogue is beyong ridiculous to me & horikoshi is tired so i will let this rest and not waste my time being any more upset about it hopefully. most of bnha has been very fun and the bakudeku plotline was handled beautifully imo, you can tell horikoshi put effort and love into that and for that i'm grateful <3 don't ask me anything about the villians tho

i wrote this at 7am on an empty stomach so feel free to comment/correct/remind of sth i love talking about this :)

and as much as i appreciate the much more positive reception of these recent chapters I read those posts too, I don't think it's wrong to say that, on a very basic level, bnha is extremely disappointing for failing its biggest victims

the only thing that could make me take back all of my criticism would be bnha 2.0 in which horikoshi would actually make his characters reflect onn whatever happened lmaoooo

[brucewaynehater101]

I wanna get into dc (I’m enjoying reading batfam fanfics) but don’t know where to start, any recs?

Hello! Two notes real quick. One, DC stands for Disregard Canon. I say this because DC has a hard time keeping their storylines, characterizations, and basic facts straight. If you switch between creators (even if the media is the same, such as two separate comic creators), you might get very different ideas.

Second, I'm going to organize this by media.

Comics

There are a ton of blogs on Tumblr that are dedicated specifically towards comics for DC. They would know the very specific details of comics that I wouldn't. I recommend choosing one character and searching for reading lists (e.g. searching "Roy Harper's comic list" in Tumblr's search bar).

Live Action TV Shows

Gotham is a great show for introducing Jim Gordon, various rogues, and the general consensus of how Gotham may work. It follows Bruce Wayne right after his parents died and pre-Batman

Titans follows Dick Grayson, the first Robin, and the Titans. Later seasons show Jason Todd and Tim Drake as Robin. I haven't seen past the first season, though.

The Flash or Arrow. Both shows obviously have little to do with the batfam. However, they give more perspective on heroes outside of the batfam. I personally enjoyed the first 2 or so seasons of both.

Animated Movies

There's too many for me to get into all of them, but HBO has a ton of animated DC movies and shows (from what I've heard).

I personally recommend Under the Red Hood as a must watch. It's hands down a masterpiece

Lego Batman

Video Games

The Arkham Series includes 3 games plus a prequel game. I've played the three regular ones, and I HIGHLY recommend them. The third one made me cry (for a lot of reasons)

Gotham Knights. I haven't gotten too far into the game yet, but it's good so far! I've seen videos of the interactions between the batfam (healthy batfam interactions!!!!) that I'm excited for.

There are other ones as well, but I haven't played them personally

I think there may be Lego Batman video games

Animated Shows

Teen Titans is a classic. Obviously, this focuses more on Robin and his team than the batfam

Harley Quinn Show focuses on Harley but shows a lot of the villains in Gotham. There's a ton of focus on various characters that are usually not given so much spotlight

I will not recommend Teen Titans Go

Young Justice is way different from the comics, but still good to watch

Live Action Movies

Suicide Squad

I'm sure there's a thread or two out there arguing the best live action Batman movies. I don't remember him having any kids in those, but you could still watch them for the lore ig

Joker.... I don't really consider that movie to be canon, but knock yourself out. It's a good film if you distance the idea of Joker from it.

I am most definitely forgetting stuff, but I'm also falling asleep (barely keeping my eyes open). Ask more questions if you want 👍

[kit-williams]

Pastel Bats

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

There were pastel bats upon the walls... this was your new home as you looked down at the infant drinking from the bottle. The room was bright with soft yellow walls and cute looking animals painted upon them. Your humming paused for only a moment and you swear you can hear a distant scream. You look to the large door. You were well fed... you were safe in the nursery... and that was alright. "Such a big boy you are Amir." You coo down to the grey eyed baby.

How a gummy smile is around the teat of the bottle as he slams his little feet against the padded floor of the playpen. No longer content on being contained by any sort of bed for a less active baby... no no the small boy had decided that standing was fun and had taken one to many tumbles on his head meaning he had to go see the doctor.

His eyes still wet from his most recent crying fit as he was a needy little thing with such big demands who liked bananas and didn't like green beans... he wanted to be held to fall asleep... and... you just find yourself holding the little boy with the odd growths on his skin... his mouth hurting because he's teething... and he still growing. You just sigh picking up the impatient to grow up little man to go see the doctor.

You watch Anrir Nor work as the two servo skulls fluttered about... one above Amir just out of reach of his grabby little hands trying to pull on the cabling and thrash it around when he does succeed making the cutes little gurgles. The other keeping notes as you watch the robotic limbs on his back move to grab things or seem to move in an almost behavioral tick.

"Any worrying things you'd like to bring up today." He says akin to how a pediatrician would ask you wonder if he says it on purpose or is simply saying it to make fun of you.

"He's scratching a bit and causing cuts but... other wise it's fine."

You watch him sit Amir up as he listens to his hearts. His eyes closing as he listens. "The scratching is from the subdermal growth of black carapace so its normal." He says with medical precision.

----

That was weeks ago... as you lay in the playpen that you laid with Amir as you and the others here followed protocol and the kids were asleep... they just fell asleep so quickly... it didn't work on you. You had to sing to Amir to get him to settle in his little pod to let whatever was in there to work on him.

There are pastel bats upon the walls... food's run out and the door is locked so tightly as there was a pressure leak outside of this safe haven in hell. You were all going to starve to death looking at the pastel animals upon the walls....

----

"His egg doner died today." Anrir says muttering softly as he continues to check over Amir and give him his shots.

"Oh that's not... good?" You say unuse to him talking to you.

"Yes... but you seem to like Amir so how about a proposition?" He says and you see the wickedness of his grin and all you could think to say was...

"What is the offer?"

----

You killed someone today... he was trying to break one of the pods. You had enough strength to do something about it. You wandered over to Amir's pod to sing to him... ignoring the way how someone... or some others were shamelessly ripping into the body... you sang to him to drown out the sounds... you sang to him as someone came by with cooked meat... and bought into the lie of them finding some... it gave you enough strength to draw... and all your numb mind could draw were those damned pastel bats...

----

"What if I just tell you what you'll get out of it?" Anrir says which that dangerous purr... you shifted as you had learned... or well it was a rumor that this man was also the head of the warband you found yourself in service to. You watch him brush some of that silky black hair behind his ear. "You may talk freely if you need to hear me say that."

"I mean I'd like to hear that too but what do you want from me?"

"Your body my dear."

----

You stopped leaving Amir's side as you hardly had any strength left to do so... you were being fed enough to stay alive... just barely. Someone came by to say that there were people outside and it might be a few more days before they could leave... that or they could just be telling you how you were next to be eaten... you didn't know any more.

----

He told you what he wanted with medical precision as you feel the marker tip tickling your skin and the metal appendages on his back caging you in. But you'd get better rations... you'd get better things... better treatment... it was all very tempting... all for the low low price of your body.

"Why... what do you get out of this?" You ask the black eyed man who looked surprised you even asked.

"Do you want the long answer or the the short answer?"

You broke eye contact with him for a moment as you thought before speaking, "Long?"

"The short version of the long answer is... I'm tired of watching the legion that I love fall apart via treachery and cowardness. Your corpse emperor isn't the answer but neither is the Four. And loyalty is a fickle thing..."

"So you're raising those who would be loyal to you?"

He grinned so wickedly, "Smart girl. Plus I can instill them the meaning of the legion! While fixing a few things that... lets say our environment was lacking at crucial stages of development."

"Giving them something you lacked?"

"Exactly."

"Didn't know childhood development was part of your education."

"Its not I ordained myself to learn it after I decided to say 'fuck it' to my last warband. So... what do you say?"

----

You should have said yes... you think as you stare at the sleeping little boy... the only thing you latched onto in this hell that you were dragged into screaming. Given a baby boy to keep alive and told your survival was tied to his development.

The boom of the bolter causes you to jump as you feel something splatter against your back as red paints the glass of the pods and you struggle to sit up. You see the midnight blue armor something different from the soft pastels around.

"Aww you left a list of his likes." The skull faced mask looks down at you with glowing red eyes. "But did you think of my offer dear?"

You try to say something which causes him to lean in before picking you up and hearing you whisper. "Yes"

[navibluebees]

Hi there! I was wondering if I could request a miles x female!reader where she died in the attack of the tree of souls and he was heartbroken but she was reborn as na’vi and is living in her own little settlement that recom miles stumbles across and he doesn’t know what to do (you can choose what happens after)

Inevitable

Please read before interacting.

All ageless & empty blogs will be blocked. No minors!

Just a quick note~ Thank you so much for requesting. I love this one & as I was writing it, I could see potential for more. I'm leaving it open-ended for now because I don't have the brain power to devote to another story at the moment, but I'd like to return to it if you guys end up liking it! Also, I've adjusted the timeline a bit so it's a little over 20 years since the humans left after the battle.

TW: mention of death in childbirth

*When you gasped for breath at the end of your life, a mother lamented as she brought new life into a world of chaos.*

~~~

As a child, you were often in your own world. Entranced by the forest, you'd spend hours adventuring by yourself, fighting fictional enemies and exploring the remnants of the mayhem that had been brought to your world. Your father had been killed in the battle with the humans and your mother had been unable to join the defense due to giving birth to you that very day. She called you her little fighter, determined to come into the world screaming. That's what they told you anyway. She did not survive the day, either.

Among the plants and scraps of metal, you would have flashes of a dream. Smaller hands with an additional finger, those hands wrapped around one of the weapons you'd seen stockpiled in the camp. When you were younger, you would often wake in the middle of the night, unable to breathe, a moment away from screaming. Many thought it was because of the violence surrounding your birth. You never told them of the dreams where your hands were human hands and your eyes saw lifeless Na'vi.

You would especially never tell them of the face that haunted the lonely dark hours. The face that hovered over yours, eyes desperate, begging you not to go. The scars along his face were as familiar to you as the marks on your own. You squeezed his hand weakly before letting go and coming back to your body. Those dreams always left you so unsettled, you'd have to sit alone for a long time. Often you could be found watching the ikran, waiting for your own turn to fly.

When you'd completed your iknimaya, you asked for permission to live alone. Not in your own dwelling, but deep in the forest. There was hesitancy from your Olo'eyktan, Jakesuli, as he was unfamiliar to this situation. It was rarely ever that a member of the clan wished to live alone. With some encouragement from those in the clan who had helped to raise you, he acceded. They knew of your desire to have a simpler life, that many interactions were painful for you. While you had always been taken care of, you'd never really belonged.

In your small home in the forest, you hunted for the clan, still bringing them meat when you could and enduring short visits with the members. You would trade sometimes if other clans passed through, giving them food or your own woven goods. It was quiet. It was simple. It was all you needed.

Today was a day to hunt, so you gathered your weapons and walked through the forest a great distance. The animals were hiding well today and you were squatted down to look at tracks when you heard a crunch of a leaf nearby. You tensed your muscles so your flinch wouldn't be noticeable and slowly stood as if everything was fine. You nocked an arrow, pretending to be following the animal you were tracking. After taking a few steps and turning to assess the area, your heart began to race with nerves, unsettled. As you turned back to your original path, thinking maybe you had been spooked by an animal, you cried out in alarm as your back was slammed against a tree.

You growled as a knife bit into your skin, drowning out the sound of the masculine Na'vi voice speaking your language. In a stumbling attempt, he leaned closer and hissed, "Who are you? Where is your camp?"

When you refused to answer, his hold slackened minutely and he spoke to the group of Na'vi appearing behind him. He spoke in a language from another life. The common tongue of the humans. The drawl in his voice tickled the edges of your brain and reminded you of impossible nights long ago, of soft touches and yearning. As they spoke back and forth, his eyes roved over you, landing on a familiar pattern that looked like a birthmark he remembered from a lifetime ago.

His head tilted slightly to the side and he whispered, "Do I know you?"

His hold slackened more and your arm swung up, fist landing squarely on his nose. You ducked under his arm and ran. A yelp came out when you felt a bullet graze your arm and you winced when you saw the blood at the edge of your vision. With a sharp whistle, you summoned your ikran. He swooped down and you made the bond before leaping up and urging him to the sky.

On the ground below, the Na'vi male watched your ascent. A member of his team ran up behind him, holding a gun up and asked, "Colonel?" awaiting further instruction.

He gently pushed the gun down to point at the ground and shook his head as he lost sight of you. He knew you would meet again. It was only a matter of time.

***

Taglist:

@ikranwings @sweetirilly @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

[docholligay]

Going through someone's blog and seeing two posts, like...4 days apart ? Of:

Post a: neurotypical people don't understand how much of a struggle it is to listen to them talk about stuff I don't care about :( I wish it was socially acceptable to tell them I'm not interested, ever.

Post b: honestly hurts so much when you can tell someone doesn't care about your special interest. :(

I just want to cup your face and go, "please reread those and let's talk about social kindness"

I did block them, I think I am reaching a friggin... point break over here. I have been weird all my life, I was an EXTREMELY lonely child, and if someone wanted to tell me about their pet lizard I would have died happy, and if they had listened to me talk about the time Kate Harony burned down a barn to get doc out of prison, my tiny child heart would have burst. Like, that's give and take.

I've been trying to express this deep deep SCRATCH of irritation for weeks now, and I think a closer step to it, is... neurotypical, if we believe anyone is, people, also have feelings and needs and preferences. They ALSO get to decide what they can and can't live with.

I have a pretty classic and overwhelming strain of ADHD. Though, I feel less and less like saying the word for it matters, and get closer and closer to identifying as Fucking Weird. My mother is broadly neurotypical. She gets to have her feelings be hurt if I don't want to hear about her and her boyfriend's day at Costco. That's what she did with her day. She wants to tell me. I owe her that if I want to talk about my run, for example. I listen to jetty talk about coding even though I legitimately don't understand. I try and follow along!

I get tired of the idea that you don't ever have to put effort into relationships, and if you do, they aren't good relationships. And this attendant idea that being nice is masking behavior when it's you, but it's just kindness when it's other people doing it.

If it is true that you don't owe anyone anything, then the reverse is also true. No one owes you anything. This is not how I want to live.

There are things I do that are basically harmless: I have a lot of trouble sitting still, I'm twitchy and startle easily, and a million other small things that as it turns out I'm actually not going to mention because I don't like attention being drawn to them and i hate it when people notice, and I know they do.

None of those things really affect other people.

There are also things I do that are anywhere from annoying to harmful: I forget things, I interrupt people,* I sometimes zone out and lose the thread of whatever was going on.

If I love people, and I want them to love me, I have to treat them with that love as much as is possible. If I forget something, and make someone feel rejected, that is true whether or not I can pin a diagnosis to their lives. I hate to say it, but, "treat people as you would like to be treated" is often a very good guideline. Do you want someone to listen to you talk about the video game you really love? Then you should listen to them talk about Crossfit. Or, I guess the secret third option is, maybe you don't want to be friends, but that, too, is a choice.

I've been working with my three year old on conversation, and we've come up with things you can ask people if you'd like to get to know them better. Her current favorites are "What's your favorite animal?" and "what's your favorite color of crayon?" I think these are both great topics for a three year old. I want to teach her that if she wants people to talk to her and be engaged with her, she will have to give them the same.

This is true of everyone. Everyone has feelings. Everyone has interests and thoughts and preferences. I cannot emphasize enough how important I think it is to remember that life is a chorus, and none of us are the soloist. We are here for each other. Other people are not your backing vocals.

*this is also a cultural issue, though. I don't actually experience problems with this in some circles.

[kerubimcrepin]

Episode 47 - Indie

It is cute to see that indie is still friends with all the people he met during his adolescence.

Cough-cough. Unlike certain other people.

His and Kerubim's life stories are in direct opposition. If one of them ever spoke of their childhood, chances are, the other one would be like, "You have no parents? Well MINE was controlling so you have it better, WET-NOSE" or "You had a shit parent? WELL, AT LEAST YOU DIDN'T HAVE HIM DIE IN FRONT OF YOU WHEN YOU WERE 5."

No wonder they hate each other's asses.

Though, it is funny how both of them had fathers who had always acted like no matter what they do, they will never be good enough.

It's a shame we hadn't seen these friends of Lou's during the series. They have nice designs, especially the yellow one.

Not a Jurgen-Crepin food moment, but this might be useful for pinpointing which fruits exist within the setting.

Patafiks is so funny to me, like... Guys there are 5.5 characters in the animated shows who are canonically queer in some way. One of them fucking sucks, one of them dies within the 20 minutes of being introduced, the 0.5 of them is Kerubim Crepin's ambiguous gender dysphoria, the normal two are Simone and Julie, and the last one is a dogboy yandere (who briefly dated("dated") Kerubim Crepin).

We live in a society.

Indie talks about Kerubim the same way I talk about him on this blog. We are so alike...

Insert "this bitch always starting shit" meme here.

Even though Ouginaks and Ecaflips both follow the same god, — albeit his different sides, — this perfectly showcases the difference in ideology that makes them hate one another.

While Ecaflips are all about mysticism, destiny, prophetising, and simply letting the current flow, Ouginaks are all about making their destiny.

Though I will be real, considering the things Ecaflip puts his demigods through, — like the, uh, son leaderboard within his dimension, or his treatment of Kerubim, (and his hatred of women, I guess, since there is no daughter leaderboard?) — as well as the Ecaflip City and its Ecaflip Psychward, I think his two personalities are more alike than we are led to believe.

It's just that the kitty personality has more glitz, and is better at masking being just as sadistic.

This line really puts how long they've known each other into perspective. God.

It also makes me think hard about the tendency of Ankama to not make distinct visual designs for characters aging, — like in Waven. Despite 30 years having passed between season 1 of Wakfu, and the start of Waven, characters like Miranda and Kabrok still look exactly the same.

I had always associated young Kerubim's design with the age range of 19-30 at best, but who's to say he can't, in this episode, be in his 40s-50s? How many years did he and Lou live together for? And how large is the gap of that unaccounted for part of Kerubim's life, the one that he never opens up about, after Lou had left him?

...I think I hauve covid.

Y'know what, I think I will be insane for a minute, and say this:

Joris, Atcham, and Kerubim really are like platonic soulmates. It feels like every single thing in their lives somehow rhymes, — like every single step they took simply brought them close to the inevitable conclusion of being together.

Sure, whatever, just tell me things like "Atcham knew, and worked with Julith, and they had a pretty amicable relationship", "Yeah Kerubim and Indie rescued the Ivory Dofus that would one day lead to Joris's birth, and then would lead to his orphanhood", "Yeah Kerubim has always wanted to be a father, and felt a certain way about kids being orphaned the same way he was", "Yeah Atcham and Kerubim went to the same war where Julith and Jahash fell in love and were probably their seconds-in-command."

Tell me that. Expect me to be normal about it. I promise I won't disappoint you.

Anyway,

I always found it very interesting that, despite becoming the Champion of Bonta, it was not Indie who went to that war, but Kerubim.

Perhaps Indie was long happily retired by that point, — perhaps he veered from adventuring into archaeology, for his museum, — while Kerubim was old, with no friends, and not much to live for anymore.

It probably was a self-destruction thing, in the "Atcham, and The Butcher of Brakmar herself, will be there. I'm so bored, and tired... It will be poetic if I defeat them, or die trying to. Then I'll be a legend. Also, there are a lot of people at wars, maybe one of them will be friendly to me :3" way.

World of Twelve heroes are always doing this shit. 💀 though considering he can't die, this isn't even suicidal ideation. It's ideation-ideation. God.

Despite everything, Kerubim does care about Indie, a lot. Indie seems to have cared for him too, — but, at times, I really do wonder if Kerubim's feelings for him ran much deeper than Indie's.

Every sign of genuine emotion is laughed at, and a genuine "I had always respected you" gets a downright haunting "yeah, and your taxidermied head will look nice in my museum when you die".

That must hurt, doesn't it?

It's funny, how life works out. Just like Kerubim, he ended up raising his kid in a completely opposite way than how he was raised. And then he dies, and his kid gets taken in by Kerubim, — who has already taken in the child of his another enemy.

...The implications of Lilotte's life make me sad. Unlike Joris, she didn't grow up in a hazardous, infested, hoarding environment. Indie was likely not mentally ill to the shits. Yet Joris's worst nightmare, — his father passing away, and him being forced to fend for himself, — actually happened to her, immediately ripping away the normal, maybe even privileged, life she had. And it just compounds the sense of loss she already had for her birth parents.

Unlike Joris, who grew up wondering vaguely about his birth family, it seems like much more of a sore spot, with her attachment to her bell...

(Off topic but, god, it's so Bonta-core, that the adoptive daughter of a previous champion of Bonta, who had a museum and was rich, ended up on the streets like a stray. I hate that city so much, it's unreal.)

She uses some pretty dark humor to cope with that. I mean, she already lost two families. No way in hell she's losing a third one. Which kinda harkens back to Kerubim's own backstory, and his own loss of the entire Crepin family, save for Atcham.

I think it's cute that, just like him, — she becomes a mother at some point in her life. Maybe it's because she looked up to Kerubim, who had a similar life story to hers, and that inspired her. Maybe it's just something she wanted, even without thinking of Kerubim's own orphan to dad pipeline.

But either way, it's like poetry — it rhymes.

[sugar-omi]

okay, so i've been doing some thinking. i've been scrolling through your blog and i stepped upon these "cheating on cove with Baxter and the other way around" scenarios. (i'm sorry, i wasn't able to read them, my heart couldn't take it ;-;) but!

what if mc was like, in a normal relationship with Baxter. you know, a couple, maybe married later and stuff, while of course still being besties with Cove. later mc and Baxter have a kid together, maybe still a small baby but! plot twist! Baxter gets into an accident or something and dies. (i'm sorry, he's my favourite man but i had to kill him for that scenario:'))

mc is completely devastated and also a little panicked, because what about the baby? and then Cove stepps in, deciding to help his best friend take care of the little one and basically becomes its father. i recently watched a video of a dog "helping" a cat take care of her kittens, and there you have it.

this one may be boring, so feel free to ignore, but i can't stop thinking about it.

ITS OK<333 I figured some ppl didn't read it bc angst n pain</3 trust me I skip over angst all the time

(I even have the tag blocked😬 sorry angst writers but I will read it and not be the same for months, I read a kiribaku angst fic years ago, and was devesated for 4 months afterwards LMAO)

okay i... I cannot expand too much on this bc OUCH

(eta now that I've finished. who am I fooling? I rlly said that like I haven't wrote a whole novel 💀 anyway <3 this clearly made me pop off more than I thought I would bc I read this at first n was devastated!!! I had no words!!!! well clearly I found them LOL)

ALSO BORING??? ANON PLEASE.. BORING WHERE<///3

n im gonna fix the format later but for now here is the bare minimum. I'm going to bed rn so nini everyone enjoy a bit of angst I promise its fluffy as well<333

tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

p/n = parental name, since I wanted to leave flexibility for all the readers here <3

but anyway yeah cove would so step up for you

will follow you to the end of the earth and do whatever you need to help you work through this and to adapt to this sudden and unfortunate change

if/when your relationship starts becoming something romantic, cove would absolutely put the brakes on everything and you'd go so slow...

I imagine he'd probably move in with you or you with him, and he'd stay somewhere else (if you're living in his house he will leave anyway, he's a gentleman like that fr) so that way you can figure out if it's not just bc he's doing all these things n you're mistaking admiration for love

you'd spend the first year going super slow, as if you've never known each other before

which technically you haven't, since you've never dated before. but cove would go so far as to find out your favorite color, song, animal, food.. all over again, even though he has it memorized and knows your likes better than his own.

once cove is sure you're ready for this (after much talk between the two of you and even with your therapist that yes you've made enough progress and are emotionally ready for this) does he finally put a label on it

now if you get married...

I imagine cove won't propose at all

like I think you'd have to talk n almost beg him...

in that case he would do a small but grande gesture to propose. or he'd propose to you before you've even left the bed for the day... no inbetween

but like 8 times outta 10, you're gonna have to propose to him

he'd cry and hug you n say yes of course.

and unless you want to keep this outta your wedding, I think cove would include baxter in your wedding.

first, ofc you'd have the picture to honor his memory

but I think he'd even go so far as to have smth in his vows. but to start, he'd say smth like:

"I know the reason we became closer was unfortunate, but I'm so happy to be able to call you and [Child] my family. and I hope I can be a good father and husband"

and "baxter will always have a place in our hearts. even though he and I didn't get along at first (watery chuckle)... I'm glad he got to love you, and I hope he trusts me to love and cherish you the same way as well.."

also if you don't want to give up your wedding ring from baxter, I think cove would even go so far as to suggest combining it with his.

!!! omg I was gonna say your and baxter's wedding bands would be black, but I have another idea

okay now, for YOUR bands, I imagine they're either black or silver and yk those infinity(?) bands? that has the 2 types of metal or whatever

that's what cove would suggest doing. and if you are worried abt people asking why your bands are different, he'd get the same twisted band but silver with say a black diamond or smth. just smth to make it look like it's intentionally different colors but same design or smth

(im overthinking a bit but it's an idea right?! I'm not crazy??<////3)

or if you don't wanna do that, I imagine you can just slip it on a necklace or leave it as is, whatever you want. he wouldn't mind even if you kept wearing it, cove would never ask you to get rid of baxter's image or memory in any way, not unless it was a real problem and your attachment to him/his things was unhealthy anyway.

now for baxter's band... well if you didn't bury it with him, I imagine you'd give it to your child

another thing I think you could do w your wedding band as well, and give them both your bands to do whatever they want with. or if they don't want it of course you're not forcing them to keep it

even though they didn't get to know baxter, the way you and cove still cherish baxter's memory does help them feel something of a connection.

I also imagine baxter would take lots of photo n video w the kid, even though they're young n just a babe, theres so many videos of baxter looking n acting so loving w them

and even a couple where he's teary-eyed n all "imma do you right by you. I love you so much.."

of course, if the kid doesn't feel that connected to baxter since they were too young to know or rmbr anything, and they don't feel anything much other than sympathy and the occasional sting when they see how much baxter loved them, you don't force it.

you both know that baxter was basically a stranger to them and even though they still respect baxter and he has a place in their heart, they don't feel like they're lacking anything.

"I don't really know what to say.. or how to feel... I see how much [P/N] misses you sometimes, and we have pictures of you, and they talk about you and stuff...

but I don't feel like im missing a dad. I hope that doesn't hurt your feelings, I wish I knew you too. sometimes I wish you were still here, so I got to know you as well, even though I'm still happy to have dad cove for my dad.

I just wanna know what you were like. I wanna experience what you were like. I... I wanna miss you like everyone else misses you too...

anyway, just know that dad is great! he takes care of me and [P/N] really well! he makes breakfast in bed, and he does/used to do this thing where he lifts me in the air before bed! he's so cool. I see how he makes [P/N] happy as well, so don't worry. although, [P/N] said you always thought cove was reliable and a good guy so maybe you aren't worrying anyway.

well... that's it I guess. i hope ill get to know you one day, and maybe you can tell me you're glad to see dad took good care of us. goodbye,

baxter."

pa."

cove happily listens to anything they have to say on how they feel abt baxter btw. he accepts any of their feelings, be it that they don't feel anything at all, sympathy for others, or they feel sad abt losing him.

if they do say smth like how even though it's unfortunate and they feel bad for everyone who mourns baxter (for example/especially you), they see cove as their dad and don't feel like they're missing anything and they're happy to have cove for their dad.

ofc he cries n hugs them n tells them he loves em and he's happy n he comforts them if needed of course

I also think cove is very scared abt being a father

especially in this way... even if the kiddo doesn't remember anything, or it's hazy at best, he worries about replacing baxter.

he'd probably worry abt not living up to baxter

baxter was always much more mature, at least it seemed that way most times. cove just worries about if he has the backbone and the ability to parent the child well and be someone they can look up to and/or appreciate for being a good father

cries if they call him dad btw

if they do it before you start dating, I imagine it's one of the catalyst that cause you to talk abt your feelings for each other. or if it's in the early stage..

cove prbly freezes and runs away to the other room n freaks out, definitely cries. if you don't talk to him like right after he calls his dad n cries n shares his worries n fear

either way, when you do talk he's biting his nails n trying not to pace around the room and he's like "if you wanna distance yourselves so that they don't call me dad any more I totally understand, I mean idk it's prbly weird for you-"

n he just rambles. like none of it makes sense n u have to physically shut him up. kiss him, yell, throw a pillow, hit him w the child's stuffed animal, throw a single lego brick at his back and watch him fall to the floor like he just got a nuke thrown at him

if it's later on n theres nothing to worry abt bc youve talked abt this or saw it coming or its just the otherwise most natural step, he cries of course

but he doesn't fall apart from being his in the back w a single fucking Lego as if it hurt 🙄🙄🙄🙄 (I hate this man he's DRAMATIC)

well... actually no he does

hit him, kiss him, hug him, run him over w a hotel wheels truck.... he just cries harder

adopts them like immediately basically

I imagine you do it soon, like maybe before the wedding just so that way you can have a private moment (just to save him some embarrassment from ugly crying in front of your families. in fact he just might faint fr)

n you + the kiddo surprise him w adoption papers (depending on how old the babe is at this point, they have like no idea what's going on but they know that cove is now officially recognized by the whole world (even by the unicorns n wizards n warlocks) as their daddy))

imagine laying in bed w cove n the kid in between you two

and when you wake up, cove is alrdy awake and was watching you two. he was petting the kids wild hair and he had pulled the two of you in and kept you under his arm..

and the sunlight is coming in, the day is just perfect. n the look on cove's face is full of so much love but also a bit somber this time

(cove feels awkward being here like this sometimes. during times like this you have to remind him it's okay, and you pull him back in. of course he does the same for you on those days.)

"I love you two. so much..." he whispers, tears sticking to his lashes

the kid flips over, curling into cove and they stop their sleepy mumbling now that they're tucked into cove's chest, feeling warm, happy, and safe.

you whisper equally as tender. "we were meant to be like this too."

also!! smth I just thought of...

imagine the kid looks mostly/very much like baxter. they act very much like cove's kid

like you would think cove n baxter had a kid together LOL

(if the resemblance is too much, they ask if you're the step parent </3 pls Ik it may not make sm sense but I just think it'd be so fuckin funny)

[morgan-the-lonely-brick]

Hiii~~ coming onto this blog to do Terror propaganda. Follow my terror sideblog @leadandblood , this is just my main. That said:

Welcome to The Terror (2018)!

Here are things that I love about the first season that might convince you to watch it too (without spoilers)

The fandom is absolutely amazing!!!! I have never had such wonderful comments and tags under posts. And they're all really talented and just wonderful

Gay love.

So much gay love oh my god everyone is gay-

Heck, there's even straight love if you're into that

Old men <3

Absolute angels and absolute demons, that are SO fun to watch

The show knows it's characters incredibly well

They are well developed and act believably in all instances i can think of

If what they do doesn't make sense in the moment it's gonna later

"Here's a guy. Now lets find out how many fucked up things can happen to him before he goes insane or khs"

Representation! Gays, amputees and POC

The main main cast is mostly white men but when there's someone else it has significance to the story or bears a deeper meaning

The visuals are stunning

Amazing camera work

The sound design!!!! Oh my god!!! It's so gooood!!!

Insane paralels game. You won't even notice some of them, but they make sense once you do

The love and care that went into this show is incredible

Very rewarding upon rewatch - different views on scenes and characters and such

You will be finding new details for several rewatches (im on my 6th and still finding stuff)

THE ACTING OH MY GOD THE ACTING

Jared Harris - and his insane ability to portray any combination of emotions with one expression

Tobias Menzies and his goddamn microexpressions

Just to name a few, but honestly they're all amazing

They're also very nice to look at

Prepare to get hurt in the most creative ways possible - it KNOWS how to hurt you and it's... Kinda satisfying

Whump galore!! Emotional and physical. Comfort and no comfort. Just take your pick

It's finished, so they can't fuck it up anymore lmao

The sheer horror of being stuck in the arctic with little to no food and everything wanting to kill you /pos

Things that might turn you away

The sheer horror of being stuck in the arctic with little to no food and everything wanting to kill you /neg

Racist characters. it's the 1800s :///

Death. Oh god there's so much death

Oh you have a favourite character? Well, he dies :/

It is a tragedy through and through.

When you think it can't get any worse, yes it can

So many side characters that you'll be learning their names for the next few days to come

They're 95% white men that look the same when you start out

Bad things happen to animals :(

There's quite a lot of gore... Open skulls, deep wounds, amputation, disease, burning to death, mauling, i could go on

At one point alcoholism and suicide

There will be poems

Overall just a really really great show, i am in love with it