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vivilvr · 5 days ago

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The Red Means I Love You

✧ Pairing: Lara Raj x Fem Reader

Your wedding is crashed by a past lover, she was the right person but at the wrong time. Perhaps the right time has arrived now? It cant hurt to give love a second chance.

✧ An: God bless gabriela mv for letting me witness lara cutting of danielas finger with an axe, didnt know I needed to see that so badly. Second half of this fic was giving me major Thelma and Louise vibes.

✧ Wc: 0.9k ✧ Status: Completed

✧ Tags: Fluff, Bittersweet, Happy Ending?, Wedding Crashed, Violence, Death

♫ Now Playing: The Red Means I Love You ♫

The roses were white. White like surrender. White like forgetting. White like the pages of blank letters you never had the will to write Lara’s name on again.

Your mother had chosen them, of course. You hadn't picked a single flower, not the dress, not the cake, not the man. Everything had been arranged for you, a display of a life that wasn't yours to live.

The ceremony was held in the countryside. An old vineyard turned luxury venue. Guests fanned themselves beneath silk parasols, murmuring pleasantries and ignoring the truth that lingered like smoke: you weren’t happy and you weren’t even pretending well anymore.

You stood under the canopy of white roses, the veil light against your skin, yet heavy with silence. Your parents beamed beside you, proud, oblivious; or maybe just will fully blind. You were marrying a man you barely knew, but who ticked all the boxes your parents had wanted: Rich. Educated. Polite. But most importantly he was not a woman. He called you “darling” as if love were a business transaction, and you smiled back because that was your job. A good daughter. A good wife. A good lie.

Your parents hid the truth that once, years ago, their ‘perfect’ daughter Y/n had loved a girl named Lara Raj with all the fire and softness first love demands. That they had planned to run away. That she had cried herself hollow the night her parents had separated the two lovers, dragged their daughter away and erased Lara from every photo, every word.

And then-

The gate to the venue slammed open like the crack of thunder.

A hush swept the vineyard. Guests turned in their seats, mouths ajar.

Lara Raj walked in like a storm finally arriving after years of drought. Chaos didn’t wait, it arrived in a black dress accompanied by golden roses, black heels, and her hair wild with wind. Her eyes locked onto yours instantly. And in her hands, Oh God, in her hands, was an axe ripped straight from the emergency case outside.

Gasps became screams. Chairs toppled. Phones raised.

The groom turned. “What the fu-”

He didn’t finish.

Lara’s swing was clean. Brutal. Blood bloomed like ink on satin. The white roses now dipped in red. Finally, your wedding decorations were chosen by you. Your 'meant to be' husband fell at your feet, a grotesque offering.

Time fractured.

Some people ran. Some froze. You stood still until Lara reached out and held your hand, breathing hard, eyes desperate, not crazed, not cruel; just full of a love that had waited too long.

“Come with me.”

You didn’t ask questions. You didn’t cry. Your fingers found Lara’s like they had in secret school hallways, under desks, behind locked bedroom doors.

And you both ran. You leapt into Lara’s car. It was a beat-up, growling sports model you two had dreamed of driving across the country in, once, back when you were girls and thought love alone could be enough. The tires screamed as they peeled off down the dirt road, clouds of dust swallowing the wedding behind them.

The silence between you at first wasn’t awkward. It was thick. Sacred. Everything unsaid pressed into the space between like a held breath.

Then you laughed. A sharp broken sound mixed with a sob, you couldn’t help it everything was just so overwhelming. “You really killed him.”

Lara glanced sideways smiling. “Would’ve killed the whole guest list if it meant getting to you.”

You laughed again, but this time softer. You leaned your head back against the leather seat, tears tracing down your cheeks, kissed away by the wind.

“I thought you forgot me,” you whispered.

“I never stopped waiting.”

The sky blazed around you both, amber, violent,, colours that defied the boundaries of naming. It wrapped around the car like a promise that wasn’t meant to last, but still meant something.

You didn’t talk about the cops that would come.

You didn’t talk about prison.

You didn’t talk about how you can’t build a life on blood and gasoline and stolen time.

You talked about nothing and that was everything.

Lara reached over to grab your hand again and placed it over her heart. “You feel that?” she said. “That’s yours. Always was. Always will be.”

Sirens would follow. Headlines would scream. The world would call it madness, a crime, a scandal. But in that stolen hour with the wind in your hair and hearts pounding in unison, it was none of those things.

It was love. Raw, wrong, and real.

You didn’t know how far you’d get. Or if you’d even see the light of tomorrow. But as the sun dipped below the horizon, bleeding gold across the American highway,

It didn’t matter if you got caught.

It didn’t matter if you never made it out of the state.

It didn’t matter if these moments of bliss burned too fast.

What mattered was this: In the end, you didn’t walk down the aisle. You walked away from it and into the sunset with the only girl you ever loved.

#fluff #katseye #lara raj #katseye lara #lara x reader #lara raj x reader #bittersweet #writing #wlw #vivilvr #katseye gabriela

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vivilvr · 7 days ago

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When I Caress Your Body, Move to the Rhythm

✧ Pairing: Daniela Avanzini x Fem Reader

After getting caught watching Daniela dance one too many times, you try to play it cool. But Daniela’s not fooled. She takes matters into her own hands (literally) and invites you in for a private lesson to teach you some moves.

✧ Wc: 1.1k ✧ Status: Completed

✧ Tags: Fluff, Tension, Dancer!Daniela, Stylist!Reader, Suggestive

♫ Now Playing: 1&Only ♫

You weren’t planning to stop. That’s what you’ll tell yourself.

You’re just passing through the practice halls, arms crossed, fingers twitching from a day of snipping thread and re-pinning the same stubborn hemline. The hallway's quiet now, rehearsal long over, but you hear music leaking out from Katseye’s practice room. Slow, pulsing. Something sensual. Your feet slow down not to stop but just to… pause for a second.

The door is cracked open. Light spills through in soft slashes, warm against the cool tile of the buildings hallway. And inside is her.

Daniela.

Alone.

You know that shape, that silhouette. You’ve fit a dozen stage costumes to it, measured the arch of her back with pins in your mouth and chalk dust on your fingers. But here, isolated and moving freely, she looks different. It’s like the air bends for her. She isn’t dancing to the music; the music is dancing for her. Her body rolls through each movement with the kind of practiced ease that’s hard-earned and a little unreal. Like she’s summoning the rhythm from the walls and letting it possess her bones.

You let yourself look too long. And then her eyes catch yours in the mirror.

You freeze. Stupid. Caught.

But Daniela doesn’t react. She pauses just long enough to let you feel it, that you’ve been seen, before she turns casually wiping sweat from her collarbone with the edge of her tank top. Her dark curls fall forward, framing her face too perfectly. They cling to her neck in ways that shouldn’t be distracting. They are.

She smirks, almost lazily. “Didn’t think anyone else was still around.”

“I was just walking past,” you lie, stepping inside like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Wasn’t sure whose music that was.”

She nods like she believes you. Like she doesn’t already know you’ve been lingering after rehearsals more often than not, always finding some stray pin, earring or scarf to keep you around. Always timing it just late enough that the majority of the other girls are gone.

“You wanna stay?” she asks, casually stretching like she’s underwater, slow and fluid. Every movement pulls your eyes without asking permission. Lean muscle shifts beneath her skin with the kind of control that makes your throat a little dry. It isn’t a performance, and that’s what makes it impossible to look away.

You hesitate. She notices. Then she turns back to the mirror and starts again, like she’s already forgotten you. Like you’re free to go.

But you don’t. And she knows you won’t.

You take a few awkward steps in, suddenly hyper-aware of your arms, your posture, the sweat on your palms. She glances over her shoulder. “Ever danced?”

“That’s um… not really my forte.” You try to laugh, hoping she doesn’t hear the slight crack in it. “I’m much better at coordinating fabrics than I am my feet.”

She hums. “Might be fun to teach you, then.”

Your stomach flutters. “Fun?”

She doesn’t look back. “Come here.”

You move toward her. She approaches you slowly, hips loose, her walk still threaded with rhythm, like the music never left her body. Then she’s behind you, and her hands land lightly on your hips.

“Start here,” she murmurs, voice soft, like she’s only halfway paying attention, like this is casual. Her fingers are gentle but certain. “Loosen up.”

You try. You fail. You’re overthinking everything.

Her hand lands on your hip again, firmer this time. The kind of touch that’s instructional, technically. But the warmth of it bleeds through your clothes, and suddenly your coordination is not your top priority.

“Just relax,” she says, guiding your stance. Her voice is low and patient but dangerous.

You try. You really do. But your body’s stiff in all the wrong places.

“Relax,” she repeats, and this time her hands slide gently coaxing your hips into motion, fingers pressing like she’s tuning an instrument. “Not like that. You’re forcing it.”

“I’m not forcing anything,” you say quickly. Too quickly.

She hums, clearly amused. “Sure you aren’t.”

Her body aligns with yours, her chest brushing your back. She’s not touching you outright, but you can feel every point of contact in excruciating detail. The curve of her arm guiding yours, the whisper of her breath near your neck.

“Feel it here,” she murmurs, her palm skimming down to rest over your lower stomach. “Let it start from your center.”

Your breath hitches. “That sounds...”

Daniela laughs behind you, soft and smug. “Lead with your hips and your feet will follow.”

You shift your weight like she showed you. Your hips roll, slow, uneven. She adjusts them with a practiced tug. It shouldn’t feel intimate. But it absolutely does.

“There,” she says, her lips close to your ear now. “That’s better.”

You nod, too flustered to speak. As your brain is overloading shouting things like this is fine and she smells so good and you are not actively dying while your body betrays you with how warm your face feels.

“You’re a little stiff,” she murmurs.

“I told you,” you mutter quietly, trying to laugh it off, “I’m not good at this.”

“Mmm~” Her hands are back on your hips, moving you in time with her own now. “You’re not bad. You just need a little... practice.”

“I think you’re enjoying this,” you say, before you can stop yourself.

She grins. “Shouldn’t I?”

You don't answer. You can’t. Not with her body pressed against yours like it’s nothing. Not with the music slow and heavy in the background, and her hands slipping just a little lower and lingering a little too long than they probably need to be for instructional purposes.

She catches your eye in the mirror. There's desire there, but also humor. Like she knows exactly how far she’s pushing you. And she’s waiting to see if you’ll break.

“Keep going,” she says smoothly. “You’re just starting to find your rhythm.”

You do, moving with her, trying not to get lost in the way she guides you like she’s molding clay. Every correction feels like a dare. Every brush of her fingers says something she won’t voice aloud. The steps don’t matter. The music doesn’t matter. There’s only the pulse of her, and the echo of it in you.

And somewhere in the back of your mind, a single thought rises:

You are so completely and utterly screwed.

#fluff #katseye #daniela avanzini #katseye daniela #daniela x reader #katseye x reader #suggestive #essentially an innuendo #writing #wlw #vivilvr

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vivilvr · 9 days ago

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loona katseye ult oomf gay as hell

How'd you know...

#vivilvr asks #vivilvr #wlw #lesbian #heekiesfins #i am num1 heekiesfins x orbitdead shipper #jkjk

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vivilvr · 10 days ago

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MASTERLIST

! Remember this is all fictional and is not meant to represent the true personalities of people portrayed !

Key: ⚡︎ - angst ☆ - fluff ♡ - suggestive

KATSEYE

Manon Bannerman

☆⚡︎ The Curse of Silver Springs - Manon x Reader

Sophia Laforteza

Coming soon

Daniela Avanzini

☆♡ When I Caress Your Body, Move to the Rhythm - Daniela x Reader

Lara Raj

☆ The Red Means I Love You - Lara x Reader

Megan Skiendiel

Coming soon

LOONA

Yeojin

☆ De mon âme à ton âme (From my soul to your soul) - Choi Yerim x Im Yeojin

Kim Lip

☆⚡︎ I Bet on Losing Dogs - Ha Sooyoung x Kim Jungeun

Choerry

☆ De mon âme à ton âme (From my soul to your soul) - Choi Yerim x Im Yeojin

Yves

☆⚡︎ I Bet on Losing Dogs - Ha Sooyoung x Kim Jungeun

⚡︎ I Loved You Like the Sun (With No Light of My Own) - Ha Sooyoung x Kim Jiwoo

Chuu

⚡︎ I Loved You Like the Sun (With No Light of My Own) - Ha Sooyoung x Kim Jiwoo

#katseye x reader #loona x reader #loona fanfic #loona #artms #loossemble #katseye #writing #masterlist #vivilvr

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vivilvr · 10 days ago

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The Curse of Silver Springs

✧ Pairing: Manon Bannerman x Fem Reader

Long ago, a royal betrayed their lover to secure the throne. The lover died beside the sacred spring at the edge of the kingdom. In their final breath, they cursed the water:

"Let the ones who betray love never know peace. May their hearts stay tethered to the voice of the one they’ve wronged, Until the end of all time."

✧ An: PLEASEE listen to the full song below before reading, not required but I assure you will enhance the experience. This was heavily inspired by both Macbeth and Fear Street 1666. First katseye fic feeling kinda nervvyy >_<

✧ Wc: 3k ✧ Status: Completed

✧ Tags: Fluff, Angst, Homophobia, Princess!Manon, Attendant!Reader, Angst and Tragedy, Death, doomed yuri

♫ Now Playing: Silver Springs ♫

The forest just beyond the castle walls was bathed in a soft light, the kind that only passed through layers of ancient leaves and morning mist. It smelled of green things and distant rain.

Y/n walked two steps behind the princess, as always. Quiet and attentive. Shoes muddy from the trail, clothing plain and worn at the hem. Her eyes never strayed far from Manon.

Princess Meret of Silver Springs moved through the woods like they belonged to her. Her pale coloured dress fluttering just above the forest floor, her braided hair flowing back, and her eyes bright with the thrill of escaping the watchful eyes of the palace.

“I told them I had a headache,” she said grinning over her shoulder. “They believed me. Of course.”

Y/n didn’t smile, but her voice was gentle. “You shouldn’t lie, your highness.”

“I don’t lie,” Manon said, twirling once in sunlight that seeped through the blanket of leaves above. “I redirect.”

Y/n shook her head trying to bite back a smile.

“And how many times have I said not to call me highness in the absence of others, I enjoy hearing you say my na-“

Then the trees parted. And there it was. The Silver Springs.

A wide basin of water lay nestled between mossy rocks and overgrown ferns. It shimmered unnaturally, as though it was lit from within. The surface didn’t ripple unless you spoke. Locals rumoured the spring remembered every voice it ever heard. Some said it listened.

Manon kicked off her shoes.

“Don’t,” Y/n said quickly, stepping forward. “You can’t! Your clothes… the queen would have me executed!”

“It’s water.” Manon began untying the corset of the dress and pulled her arms out, letting the fabric fall down to her waist. “I’d rather be wet than spend another hour in that godforsaken dress.” She continued, now being left in her chemise and petticoat.

Before Y/n could even respond ‘SPLASH’. Manon jumped in with a laugh, white fabric floating up around her like sea foam. Y/n cursed under her breath, looking over her shoulder.

“Come in!” Manon called, flicking her braids back with her hand, cheeks flushed. “You can’t guard me from there.”

“I’m not a guard,” Y/n muttered, but her feet moved anyway. Always, always toward her.

She hesitated at the edge. “But my clothes-”

“Soak. With me.” (gaygaygaygaygay stop speaking in riddles just say u wanna hit)

It wasn’t a command. It was a dare. Y/n exhaled accepting defeat and then stepped in slightly. The water was instantly cold, but deep inside felt like a strange warmth. Suddenly, a handful of water directly hit her face.

“Ah!” Y/n lunged forward, splashing her back.

They circled each other with easy laughter, throwing water, slipping on smooth stones. Their hands brushed, once, then again. Eventually, the game slowed and the laughter quieted. The distance between them vanished. They stood inches apart now, half-submerged in silver water. Manon’s breath was shallow; her eyes fixed on Y/n’s. The latter’s heart thudded against her ribs. Neither moved.

The sunlight caught on the droplets on Manon’s face. Her lips parted like she was about to speak, but she didn’t. Y/n could feel the heat radiating off of her, even in the cold.

So close. So far.

Their foreheads might have touched, if one of them had swayed even slightly. But they didn’t. Seconds passed like whole seasons. Then Y/n quietly broke the silence. Not moving, not looking away.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Manon’s eyes flickered up and down the face of the girl in front of her, and the softest smile tugged at her lips.

“Neither should you.”

And neither of them noticed how still the water had become. As if it was listening.

-----

The east wing of the castle is quiet, lit with dusty gold candlelight. The books in the library are old, too old for most to bother with. But Y/n always comes. She moves along the shelves like she’s walking through a memory. Her fingers traced faded lettering. Behind her, a voice called:

“You always disappear when I’m not looking.”

She doesn’t have to turn to know it’s Manon.

“You were with your mother,” Y/n replies, not looking up.

“I left her,” Manon says, stepping forward. “She never notices when I’m gone. You do.”

Y/n’s hand freezes on a book. She finally turns and Manon is closer than she thought. Barefoot, hair undone, a long silky white slip dress. Not a crown in sight. Not the girl the world sees. Just her.

Manon stops at her side, not touching, but the air feels warmer now.

“You like it here?” she asks.

“It’s quiet.”

“You mean no one watches us.”

Y/n doesn’t answer and that’s all the answer needed.

She plucks a random book from the shelf, something old and heavy. As she opens it, a slip of parchment slides out and flutters to the floor. She bend to pick it up and squints at the words.

“What is it?” Manon asks, peering over her shoulder.

“Long ago, a royal betrayed their lover to secure the throne. The lover died beside the sacred spring at the edge of the kingdom. In their final breath, they cursed the water: Let the ones who betray love never know peace. May their hearts stay tethered to the voice of the one they’ve wronged, Until the end of all time.”

“The Curse of Silver Springs,” Manon says humming, barely above a whisper. “My nursemaid told me the story when I was little. Said the spring was once sacred. Lovers would swear vows there, get engaged and the water would remember if they broke them.”

Y/n swallows. “Do you think it’s true?”

“I think some things don’t go away, even when they should.”

Manon moves in slowly and this time, she does touch. One hand rests gently at Y/n’s waist. And then without a word she leans in and presses a kiss to Y/n’s shoulder just above the fabric, where skin peeks through. It's slow. Unhurried. A vow without a sound. Y/n’s breath catches. Her eyes close.

“You shouldn’t do that,” she whispers.

“I know,” Manon replies. But she doesn’t move away.

For a moment, the only sound is the faint shifting of paper as the parchment settles back to the floor. Y/n turns her head slightly. Their faces are so close. But neither of them closes the distance.

Instead, they hover in the space where truth lives, quiet and unnamed.

“If we lived somewhere else, in some other time,” Manon murmurs, “where no one would call this a blasphemy… would you still want me?”

Y/n doesn’t look at her. She looks down at the worn marble floor between them.

“I already do.”

Another silence, soft and full.

Then a knock at the door breaks it all, a maid announcing supper.

Manon doesn’t speak again. But as she leaves, her fingers brush the other girls once more. And behind them, the parchment still lies on the floor with ink faded but not forgotten.

-----

The Queen’s private chamber is silent. Candles flicker like held breaths. Y/n stands outside the Queen’s chamber door with her palms sweating. She had been summoned with no explanation and no escort. Just a soft-voiced maid saying, “Her Majesty requests you. Alone.”

She knocks.

“Enter.”

The Queen stands by the window, her back turned. The light catches on the grey at her temples and the hard line of her jaw. When she speaks, her voice is cool as silver.

“Close the door.”

Y/n obeys.

“Tell me the truth. Do you love my daughter?”

The question strikes like a slap as Y/n’s stomach turns. “Your Majesty, I-”

“Do not insult me with lies.”

The Queen turns to face her. Her eyes are cold and sharp as frost.

“You think I didn’t see it? The way you look at her. The way she looks at you.”

A step closer. Her voice lowers, more dangerous for its calm.

“I saw you by the spring. You touched her.” A pause. “And she let you.” She continues, “It is unnatural.”

Y/n’s breath catches, her knees feel weak.

“She is the future queen,” the woman goes on. “Chosen by the Gods. And you… are nothing.”

Y/n flinches. The Queen’s expression doesn’t change.

“You think your feelings are noble. Romantic. But they are a perversion. A sickness. An indulgence of flesh.”

She circles around Y/n like a lion.

“You touched her. You defiled her. Do you understand what you’ve done?”

“I never-” Y/n chokes on her words a sob threatening to spill out. “I never meant to hurt her.”

“You already have,” the Queen snaps. “You’ve dragged her soul toward damnation. You have stained her name. What man will stand beside her now, knowing she’s taken comfort in your hands?”

Y/n is silent. Ashamed and furious. She doesn’t know where to put her hands.

“She was to be a ruler. A wife. A mother. And you have twisted her into something else.”

The Queen picks up a small velvet case and opens it. Inside, the dagger gleams.

“There is still time,” she says. “To put an end to madness and cleanse the bloodline before the court learns the truth.”

Y/n stares at the blade.

“No…”

“Yes,” the Queen says softly. “You love her, don’t you? This is the only way she can be free. To die untouched by scandal. To go before the Gods unspoiled.”

Y/n’s voice is hoarse, her throat in pain. “This is murder.”

“This is mercy,” the Queen hisses.

She steps closer again, lowering her voice until it is nearly a whisper.

“Would you rather she be burned? Tried for heresy? Known through history as the queen who lay with woman and corrupted her crown?”

A pause.

“Let her be remembered as pure. Let her soul be clean.”

She holds out the dagger.

“Do it by the spring. Let the water cleanse her. Let it carry away her shame.”

Y/n doesn’t move. Her chest feels tight.

“You’re asking me to kill her because I loved her...”

“No,” the Queen replies. “I am asking you to prove that you did.” She takes a deep breath “If you love her, set her free.”

Y/n’s hands shake as she takes the blade. A silence falls between them while the Queen steps back satisfied.

“You may go.”

But before she can leave, the Queen speaks again: “And remember, girl… it is not only she who will answer to the Gods.”

-----

The forest hums quietly. Shadows stretch long across the moss and leaf covered path. Cold wind caressing the girls faces every so often. Y/n now walked side by side with Manon. But this time, her hands tremble in the folds of her coat, where the Queen’s dagger is tucked against her hip, feeling heavier with every step.

“You’re quiet today,” Manon says, casting a glance over her shoulder.

Y/n lifts her head and forces a smile. “I didn’t sleep well.”

Manon hums. “Mm. You never do, when we’re apart.”

Y/n looks away, she couldn’t bear the burden of laying her eyes up Manon.

They walked in silence. The trees began to thin ahead of them as the the soft gurgle of the spring called to them, silver emanating through the trees like spilled moonlight. The forest was silent. The water of the Silver Spring shimmered behind them, catching no breeze, no birdsong. As if it knew the fate of the girls which stood before irt. Manon let out a breath and ran forward, she kneeled by the water and cupped it in her hands, watching it pour through her fingers.

“It’s beautiful..” she says, almost to herself.

Y/n steps forward, slowly. Her pulse roars in her ears so loudly she was sure the other girl must hear it. Manon stood up brushing her off hands against her thighs. “I keep thinking… what if we just left?”

She smiles, suddenly girlish. “Disappeared. Wouldn’t that be romantic? The two of us, somewhere no one knows my name.”

Y/n swallows harshly. “You’d hate it.”

“Maybe,” Manon says. “But I’d have you.”

She walks toward Y/n, and suddenly they’re face to face. Their foreheads almost touch. Manon doesn’t move. Neither does Y/n. Y/n’s hand drifts half an inch forward. She could’ve touched her. Just once. But she doesn’t. They hold each other’s gaze for a breath too long. Manon smiles, a little sad as she turns and walks to the edge of the spring.

She glances back. “You’re not coming in?”. It had become tradition for the two to visit the spring alone every so often.

Y/n forces a chuckle. “We’ll catch cold, the water must be freezing today.”

“Oh, live a little,” Manon teases. She spins once, arms raised to the sky. The silver hue from the water danced around her. She looks free. She looks glorious.

Y/n closes her eyes.

When she opens them, her hand is on the dagger.

She’d never held a blade like this before. It was forged with wicked intent, not ceremonial and definitely not royal. It didn’t belong in her hand. But fate had already made its choice.

Manon’s back was to her, she was humming something soft and tuneless, the kind of thing she only did when she felt safe.

Y/n stepped closer with her hands trembling. The water lapped at her boots. The dagger pulsed against her palm.

Manon turned, still smiling faintly… and then paused. Something flickered in her expression.

“…Y/n?”

The addressed couldn’t speak. Her throat burned. The trees blurred.

“I-” Her voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”

She lunged.

The dagger slid in between Manon’s ribs, right beneath her heart. A clean strike. For a moment, neither of them moved. Manon’s body jerked, then went still. She didn’t cry out. Didn’t fight. Just… froze.

Her eyes went wide, not in pain but in betrayal and confusion. She looked at Y/n like she was trying to understand. Like she still wanted to give up everything to know what this girl was thinking.

“…why?”

Her knees gave way. Y/n caught her, lowering her slowly to the moss next to the water’s edge.

Her own breath was ragged. Her hands slowly being enveloped in crimson. She couldn’t stand to take the dagger back out. The feeling of flesh beneath it was sickening.

Manon’s lips parted, but no sound came. A single tear dripping down the curve of her cheek. Her blood, dark and velvet, seeped across the stones and into the spring.

Manon was still breathing. Barely. Still looking at her.

She didn’t speak again.

She didn’t forgive.

She just… went quiet.

The spring shimmered once more. Then it stilled.

-----

Weeks passed since Manon’s death. The kingdom mourns a princess lost to a tragic accident: a fall, a slip, the spring too deep.

But Y/n knows better.

She wakes to silence. Yet simultaneously she wakes to Manon’s voice in her ears. Soft and breathing.

“Y/n?”

Sometimes it’s just her name. Sometimes laughter, faint and disconnected. Sometimes a whisper she can’t make out. Sometimes it’s her voice, screaming.

Y/n presses her hands to her ears, yet silence never comes back.

She doesn’t sleep much anymore. Her eyes are sunken, red and tired. Her hands shake when she does anything. She avoids mirrors, pools, polished glass and especially avoids looking in water too long.

But it doesn’t matter.

Manon is in every reflection. A pale face in a silver bowl. A white dress soaked in spring water. Blood blooming like roses on the fabric of her dress.

And always, her eyes. You could never forget her eyes.

“Why?”

She tries to pray. The chapel is cold, even in summer. She kneels for hours leaving her skin scraped and bruised, whispering words she barely remembers. Her voice cracks.

“Forgive me. Please~”

But the icons stare back, unmoved.

Her hands are still red. They never come clean.

She washes them. Again. And again.

Hot water, scented oils, scraping until her skin peels; but nothing works. She swears the smell of blood clings to her fingernails.

She hears maids behind her whisper, “She’s gone mad.” “Must be hysteria.”

She returns to the spring only once at night. The moon is celestial and ethereal. The water is still. The stones are clean now, but she knows what lies beneath and what memories thay hold. What was taken and what was left.

She stands at the edge, shaking.

“You didn’t scream,” she says aloud. “You didn’t run.”

She kneels. Her hand hovers above the surface of the water.

“You looked at me like you still loved me.”

Her voice breaks.

“Why did you look at me like that?”

There is no answer. But the water ripples. And in the shimmer, she sees Manon again with her eyes wide and mouth just beginning to form a word that never comes. Y/n stumbles back, heart clawing like a wild animal to get out.

She tries to throw the dagger into the sea, get rid of the beast that rested within its steel. But it always finds its way back. First in a drawer she swears she locked. Then under her pillow. Then, once in her hand when she wakes up. Her hands again covered in that damned spot of crimson. She screams until the servants come. They find nothing.

Every celebration, every feast and every toast to the “beloved princess lost too soon” makes her stomach twist. She sees the Queen at every corner untouched by guilt.

Y/n wants to spit in her face. Or confess her sins. Or die. But she does none of those things. She stays silent because the curse has taken hold. She cannot speak the truth, not without damning them all so she carries it, like a ghost in her chest.

At night, she lies in the dark, clutching her own arms like it will keep her from falling apart. Sometimes she swears someone slips into bed behind her. Warm breath on her neck. A soft kiss just below her ear.

“Y/n…”

She turns.

No one.

Always, no one.

But the sound of her voice never leaves. It echoes in hallways. In water. In her bones and flesh. Y/n presses her forehead to the stone wall of the castle, weeping quietly and hopelessly.

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

She breathes.

“You should have screamed.”

And still, even with her eyes closed she sees how Manon looks at her. Not angry. Just broken.

“Let the ones who betray love never know peace…”

#angst #katseye #manon bannerman #katseye manon #manon x reader #katseye x reader #fluff #meret manon #writing #doomed yuri #wlw #vivilvr

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vivilvr · 8 months ago

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I Loved You Like the Sun (With No Light of My Own)

✧ Pairing: Ha Sooyoung x Kim Jiwoo

Sooyoung grapples with unrequited love for her best friend Jiwoo as their bond begins to fade with Jiwoo's new relationship. Through poetry, Sooyoung navigates feelings of loneliness and heartbreak, facing the painful truth that love alone cannot hold onto what once was or what could've been.

“She could have been a poet, or she could have been a fool.” — The Smiths

✧ Wc: 2.4k ✧ Status: Completed

✧ Tags: Angst, Unrequited Love, Angst and Tragedy, Pining, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Writer!Sooyoung, Jiwoo is her muse, sorry guys i gave her a bf, its okay hes anonymous, doomed yuri, dog metaphors

♫ Now Playing: The Moon Will Sing ♫

Sooyoung sat at her desk, the dim light of the late afternoon filtering through her bedroom window. It illuminated the clutter of papers that lay before her. She stared at the latest draft, her heart heavy with the words that had flowed from her pen, only to feel inadequate once more.

I was born to watch you. Write every word that encapsulates Your beauty, which I paint. Hold you in my arms And sculpt your figure by memory. Hold you in my arms And carve out your being. I was born to be the artist. Hold you in my arms And mould you into shape. Let my heat fire your vessels. Guide my hand; let me guide yours. Let me hold you in my arms. A dull ache and emptiness is What I have left for you. You were born to be my muse.

She scrunched up the paper with a sigh and tossed it into the bin beside her. Now it lay lost among its discarded siblings. Sooyoung spun her chair around, gaze landing on Jiwoo who was lounging comfortably on the edge of her bed, scrolling through her phone with an expression of pure bliss.

“So,” Jiwoo began, glancing up at Sooyoung with a bright smile that instantly warmed the room, “what’s the latest masterpiece?”

“Just another poem,” Sooyoung’s voice was light but the heaviness in her heart lingered. “Nothing special.”

Jiwoo hopped off the bed and crossed the room, plopping down next to Sooyoung, her presence grounding yet vibrant. “I’m sure it’s good so stop being so harsh on yourself. You always find a way to capture the things that matter,” she said, nudging Sooyoung playfully.

It had been a while since the two had been able to spend some time together. Since Jiwoo got busy with other things. Sooyoung leaned back in her chair, letting the tension melt away. “Wanna watch a movie?” she suggested, hoping to reclaim some of the shared time they used to have.

“Yes!” Jiwoo’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. She wastes no time in stretching out on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows. “You pick! I need a break from all the dramas of the real world.”

Sooyoung joined her on the bed, the familiar warmth of one another's presence wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. As the screen flickered to life she couldn’t help but steal glances at Jiwoo. The knot of longing tightened in her chest. In this fleeting moment, everything felt right, but she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that their time was slipping away, like grains of sand through her fingers.

_____

Sooyoung sat on a familiar weathered bench at the park, her fingers idly tracing the grain of the wood. The sun was beginning its descent. The light casting a golden hue over the lake where the water shimmered like liquid gold. This spot had always been theirs; an oasis of laughter and shared secrets. She glanced at her watch, its ticking becoming louder in the absence of Jiwoo’s familiar laughter.

Tradition dictated that they met here every so often, a ritual that had woven the fabric of their friendship. An uneasy knot twisted in her stomach as the minutes ticked by. After admiring the tranquil view for a while, Sooyoung reached for her phone. She bit her lip as she typed out a message to Jiwoo.

yvesntual Hey! Just checking in. You coming?

The reply was quick but the words felt like a stab to her heart.

chuu030 Omg I totally forgot. Sorry :(( He’s taking me out today!

Sooyoung’s heart sank. She stared at the message, her mind racing with mixed emotions. Of course he is. She swallowed her disappointment typing back with feigned enthusiasm.

yvesntual No problem! Have fun!

As she put her phone away, her thoughts spiraled into a familiar darkness, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. The world around her faded as she watched the sun dip lower.

In that moment of solitude, she felt a poem begin to form in her mind. Pulling out her notebook, she penned the lines, each word a testament to her feelings.

There’s someone beside you, A stranger, Dark strands woven into your light, He fills the spaces I once occupied, A constellation I can’t rewrite. In the cosmos of your laughter, A new star outshines my glow, Leaving me drifting, Lost in the night.

Sooyoung felt adrift, an uninvited guest in the life she once shared with Jiwoo. The park that had once brimmed with joy felt hollow now, the laughter of other couples echoing in her ears like a cruel reminder that she had lost something she never even had.

_____

It was night. The world was shrouded in an oppressive darkness that mirrored Sooyoung's mood. She pushed open the door to her room. Even familiar surroundings felt foreign and claustrophobic. The walls seemed to close in on her as she dropped her bag on the floor, her heart heavy with disappointment.

She plopped onto her bed. A half-finished poem lay crumpled on her desk, the words blurring into a jumbled mess. She sighed, pushing her hair back from her face and picking up her notebook instead. She opened to a blank page, staring solemnly at the empty lines.

With a deep breath, she picked up her pen and began to write:

My heart echoes Like darkness reflecting, A haunting imitation. Your monotone face, Not a hint of desperation. My heart echoes. Am I in love With just a theme? A figment of Long forgotten dreams.

But tonight, the words wouldn’t come easily. Frustration mounted as she scratched out line after line. The bleeding ink was a testament of her despair. Sooyoung glanced over at her phone, its screen remained dark and untouched. The last message from Jiwoo felt like a cruel reminder from the universe of their distance. It left an unfixable wound; a jagged stone lodged in her heart.

The hum of the world outside faded. She decided to switch on her favourite playlist but even the music seemed to mock her; each note was tainted with memories of laughter and joy that now felt out of reach. Damn her for associating songs with the people she cared for. She cranked the volume up, hoping the noise would prevent her brain cells from forming any coherent thoughts but all it did was amplify her loneliness.

As the sound shifted from upbeat pop to sombre indie songs she closed her eyes letting the lyrics wash over her like a bittersweet tide. She thought about how she and Jiwoo used to share these moments: cuddled up on the couch, scoffing down snacks, laughter spilling into the air, making stupid inside jokes. Now, she felt like a ghost haunted those memories, flickering in and out of existence.

In a fit of frustration she grasped onto the pillow next to her and flung it across the room. She grabbed her notebook again, her pen scratching furiously against the paper, handwriting barely legible as she bleeds her heart out through ink:

My heart echoes, The release of my last breath. I wish to be by your side. My passion for you It could never die. My heart echoes, Your voice reverberating In every nook of my mind. Take me far, take me away. Can we leave this all behind?

She sat in silence, the weight of acceptance?.. no, surrender pressing down on her. A couple of stray tears slipped down her cheeks as she gripped the book in her hands tightly.

Desperate for a sense of peace, Sooyoung pushed herself up from the bed and wandered to the bathroom. The fluorescent lights were blinding, buzzing overhead, casting a harsh glare on her reflection. She could barely recognize the girl staring back at her. She glanced at the bath tub.

She turned away. Retreating back to her bedroom. The darkness felt heavier now like a repressive blanket that wrapped around her like a shroud. The apartment felt eerily quiet, too quiet, and she could almost hear the thud of her own heartbeat echoing in her ears.

Feeling overwhelmed, Sooyoung sank back onto her bed. Tonight silence wrapped around her like a vice, tightening with each passing second, until it became unbearable. She closed her eyes, wishing to disappear into the pages of her poetry. At least there the pain could be transformed into something beautiful.

_____

I lay next to you, my golden fur marking your belongings, What’s mine is yours, and what’s yours is mine. I sink into the soft mattress, Its warm embrace holding me close, As the sun’s gentle hand caresses your face, A glow that rivals my golden fur, Illuminating the beauty that is you. I remain, waiting for your return after a long day of work, Gazing at the white front door, Standing tall like a sentinel, Ready to guard you always. But today, you brought someone new. Younger than me, with sleek black fur, Energetic, loud: a whirlwind of life. But He is no match for my loyalty, right? You have found my replacement. I scavenge for a new bone to fetch, But He is all you see. My frail body no longer obeys the commands of my heart; I try to run for you, to impress you, Yet my aching muscles plead for mercy, Begging me to stop, to admit defeat. My fur grows thinner, Your bedsheets now adorned with a coat of black, While one corner of the room remains golden, A stark reminder of what once was. I bare my teeth at my reflection, A pathetic shadow of the companion I used to be. I regret what I could have done, what I should have done. I want my toys back, my bed back, And most importantly, you back. Now I bare my canines at Him, My jaws once fierce, but now a mere facade. Attempting to bite the hand that once fed me, I retreat in shame. With my tail between my legs, I stumble away like a coward. No matter what I do, I cannot forget Those moments of content you brought me. Your hand, a healing grace from above, was my saviour. I could never turn on you; I am loyal. I will always be your guard. The house is shrouded in darkness, The golden light unable to pierce through the curtained windows. The shimmer that once radiated from your smile Has been replaced by a dark scowl. Your bed seems so far away; you seem so distant. My body drags me mercilessly to the ground, While memories wrap around my mind like chains. Our picture in the antique wooden frame on the mantle Has been replaced, now displaying you and Him. Now, in the garden, I have dug my own grave. With my remaining strength, I create a resting place, Where I can find peace as I once did With your loving presence by my side. Have I just been chasing my own tail all along? I sink into the grasp of the dark soil, This is where I will take my final breath. I lay alone. ~yves.

Jiwoo stepped into Sooyoung’s apartment. She had let herself in, finding that the latter wouldn't answer any calls or open the door. Jiwoo chuckled, noticing Sooyoung's never changed where she hid the spare key. The familiar scent of lavender lingered in the air, mingling with an unsettling stillness that sent a shiver down Jiwoo's spine. It felt too quiet, too empty. Sooyoung had been distant lately, that was the whole reason she decided to make this visit. Initially Jiwoo brushed it off, attributing the strange behaviour to the whirlwind of changes in their lives. After all she had been making progress in her relationship now, Sooyoung was always so supportive, she couldn't wait to tell her she suspects her boyfriend is going to propose.

Her heart began to race as she glanced around. She couldn't shake away this strange feeling in the pit of her stomach while searching for signs of her friend. That’s when her eyes fell upon it; the crumpled piece of paper resting on the edge of Sooyoung’s desk. Jiwoo reached for it, her breath hitching as she smoothed out the creases.

It was a poem.

As she began to read, the words unfurled a raw and aching vulnerability that pierced her heart. Each line resonated, revealing the depths of Sooyoung's despair that Jiwoo had been to blind to even notice. The final words echoed hauntingly in her mind:

“I lay alone.”

A wave of dread washed over Jiwoo. She scanned the room. Her pulse quickened. Where was Sooyoung?

“S-Sooyoung?” Jiwoo called out, her voice trembling as it echoed off the walls. Panic clawed at her throat as silence answered her.

She rushed to the spare bedroom, flinging open the door, only to find it empty. The closet? (Ironic but) No. The living room? Nothing. Every passing second felt like an eternity, her anxiety spiralling with each empty room.

Finally, her instincts pulled her toward the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, and she pushed it open with a shaky hand.

The light was dim. As her eyes adjusted, her heart dropped. The tub was filled with water, the surface undisturbed. Jiwoo's breath caught in her throat as she stepped closer. Realisation hit her like a cold wave.

Sooyoung lay in the tub, her hair splayed like a halo around her, blending with the water. The stillness was suffocating. “Sooyoung!” Jiwoo screamed, rushing forward.

She knelt by the edge, heavy dread rooting her in place. Her hands trembled as she reached out. Sooyoung’s eyes were closed, peaceful in an unsettling way, and it broke Jiwoo’s heart.

“Please, wake up!” She pleaded, her voice breaking while grabbing Sooyoung’s jaw and pulling her face out of the water. But there was no response. Only the echo of her own desperation filled the room.

The poem, discarded in panic, lay floating on the surface of the water. I guess the testament of love, a pain that had remained unaddressed, was doomed to share the same fate as the girl which carried its burden. The weight of regret and sorrow enveloped Jiwoo, and she felt as if the world had collapsed around her.

Her heart shattered as she pressed her forehead against the tub. The reality of what had happened crashing down on her like a hurricane. “Sooyoungie, I- I didn’t know… I’m so sorry…” Her sobs echoed in the bathroom. The only sound throughout the whole apartment.

As the sunlight filtered through the frosted window, it illuminated Sooyoung's face in a golden hue. It was a hauntingly beautiful sight. Jiwoo felt the cold grip of despair tighten around her heart. She was left alone in the silence. The echoes of unspoken words whispered in her ears.

#loona #loona yves #loona chuu #ha sooyoung #kim jiwoo #writing #ao3 fanfic #pining #angst #loona fanfic #doomed yuri #wlw #vivilvr

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vivilvr · 8 months ago

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De mon âme à ton âme (From my soul to your soul)

✧ Pairing: Choi Yerim x Im Yeojin

Standing in front of her wasn't Hyeju. It was... a girl? A young woman? She looked about Yeojin's age but somehow timeless. Her dark brown hair framed a face that was almost too perfect, her skin pale as the moonlight, her eyes deep and unnervingly intense, shone with a strange almost predatory glint. And barely visible were fangs, glistening as she grinned down at Yeojin.

Or.

Dumbass Yeojin enters an abandoned building to retrieve some goods (a video game) only to come face to face with a being that transcends beyond human mortality! (Vampire Yerim)

✧ Wc: 1.6k ✧ Status: Completed

✧ Tags: Fluff, Vampires, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Vampire!Yerim, Student!Yeojin, Comedy, Halloween 2024, Vampire Bites

♫ Now Playing: De mon âme à ton âme ♫

The sun hung low in the sky as its celestial counterpart rose to claim its temporary throne. A ghostly silver glow spilled over the desolate streets and tangled woods, casting sharp shadows along the path as Yeojin trudged toward the abandoned building at the edge of the woods behind her school. Branches scraped together above, filling the air with a dry whisper. Every now and then a gust of wind sent a chill through the air.

She clutched her phone tightly, checking the time. The building loomed up ahead, crumbling brickwork and shattered windows. Ivy crawling up its sides like bony fingers of nature. The place was an eyesore and more than a little creepy, but Yeojin was here with a purpose. Somewhere inside was a game disc she’d ordered, one her mom would never have let her buy. Finding it online had been easy although the website had looked like it was barely holding together: complete with broken links and a dark, outdated design. But it’d promised delivery. If there is a will there is a way.

In her defence this was her best bet of getting the game. If she had it delivered to her house it would risk her mom finding it. Anyway that brings us to the present, here she was, sent on this strange mission to retrieve the disc herself from the local abandoned house. Every town's gotta have one right, it's like a seal of approval. WOOO CONGRATS YOU JUST ACQUIRED A POTENTIALLY HAUNTED BUILDING!!

Yeojin pushed open the door with a sigh, its rusted hinges groaning in protest. Inside, everything lay draped in shadows. Broken furniture, cracked tiles, bits of debris were scattered across the floor, and a faint, musty smell filled the air. But there, on the floor, she spotted a black package. Her CD.

Yeojin’s eyes widened as she approached and picked it up, ripping open the packaging and flicking the case open to find the disk safely inside. "Fuck yeah~" she whispered in a sing-song voice, triumphant. "I thought I was getting scammed."

The thrill of her success was short-lived as the faint sound of footsteps reached her ears from somewhere in the shadows behind. She sighed, annoyed rather than alarmed.

“Hyeju, I already told you, I ain't giving you the game bro. You gotta pay up, no special trea-” she muttered, rolling her eyes as she turned to face her friend - only to freeze.

Standing in front of her wasn’t Hyeju. It was… a girl? A young woman? She looked about Yeojin’s age but somehow timeless. Her dark brown hair framed a face that was almost too perfect, her skin pale as the moonlight, her eyes deep and unnervingly intense, shone with a strange almost predatory glint. And barely visible were fangs, glistening as she grinned down at Yeojin.

"Welcome," the stranger said, her voice a soft whisper that tried to be both alluring and ominous. “You have stumbled into the domain of the night.” She continued stepping into the path of the moonlight that seeped through the window. Illuminating her frame like a spotlight on a stage.

Yeojin’s jaw dropped. She took a quick step back, momentarily caught off guard. But then the tension broke as she burst into laughter, doubling over and giving the girl an incredulous look.

“Aren't you-” she managed between laughs, “are you a week early for… Halloween?”

The vampire’s confident expression faltered, her pout betraying a touch of wounded pride. Yeojin kept going, still holding onto her stomach and struggling to catch her breath.

“Wow. Are you that bored? Do you just camp out here waiting for people to come in so you can, what, scare them out of your ‘domain’? ” Yeojin raised her hands, waggling her fingers in mock horror. “Ooh, scary!”

The so-called creature of the night, a being that transcended beyond human mortality looked mortified, her air of mystery dissolving under Yeojin’s unconvinced teasing. She shifted, trying to regain her composure, but it was too late; the self-assured vampire had been completely disarmed by the loud, brazen human in front of her.

For the first time in who knew how long, Yerim felt a rush of embarrassment, and maybe… just maybe, an odd, reluctant admiration for this girl who laughed in the face of darkness.

After Yeojin’s laughing fit, she looks up to find Yerim watching her with a bemused frown, her dark eyes narrowed.

“Done?” Yerim asks dryly. “You do realise you have just mocked a vampire, right?” She questions puffing out her chest. (The few inches of height difference do count!)

Yeojin snickers, clearly unimpressed. “Yeah, well, I expected more bats,” Yeojin says with a shrug, glancing around the rundown house. “Maybe some creepy chanting or something? Really, I’m just a little disappointed.”

As Yeojin quiets down and her gaze turns back to fall onto the brunette. Yerim’s smile sharpens, her eyes flickering to Yeojin’s neck, pulse beating visibly. Yerim tilts her head, as if savouring a meal. Instinct is instinct. Yeojin feels a shiver crawl down her spine.

“Not as brave now, are you hmm?” Yerim murmurs while taking a deliberate step closer. Her eyes never leaving Yeojin’s.

Yeojin’s bravado falters but she tries to stand her ground, hoping her voice doesn’t betray her. “I’ve seen scarier things in horror movies, honestly,” she says, clearing her throat, though her voice quivers slightly.

Yerim smirks, letting the moment drag out hmm fear is satiating. She then pulls back feigning disinterest. “Pity. I thought I would finally get some real entertainment.”

As Yerim moves back into the shadows, her fangs retracting away. Yeojin notices something odd; just a flash of hesitation in Yerim’s eyes. It’s as if she’s toying with Yeojin but lacks the drive to follow through.

“Are you… just gonna let me go?” Yeojin challenges, half-relieved but still a little insulted. “What kind of vampire are you?”

Yerim scoffs, her smirk hiding a conflicted expression. “Letting you go does not mean I will not enjoy terrifying you. The suffering of others is my happiness. I’m… just out of practice.” What a big fat stinking liar. Someone call 911 her pants are on fire. In reality, Yerim has been surviving on forest animals (mainly the deer or stag that inhabited the woods, the smaller animals were arguably too cute to kill), unwilling to harm an unsuspecting human. But she’d never admit that to this infuriatingly stubborn girl.

Yerim purses her lips, then leans in, her fangs just barely visible as she lets out a small hiss. “How about I show you why you should be scared?”

Yeojin blinks. Then snorts totally unfazed. “Oh, no! Guess I’ll have to what… offer you my neck?”

Yerim’s second attempt to be intimidating crumbles as she stifles a laugh. “You are ridiculous.”

“Guess you’re not too used to visitors, huh?” Yeojin teases, watching Yerim trying (and failing) to stay serious.

“Actually, no,” Yerim mumbles sheepishly. “But I am hungry…” She gives Yeojin a sidelong look with her fangs on display. “And if you are so eager to offer…”

“Alright, Miss Vampire. Do your worst.”

Yerim’s eyes widen in surprise. “You are… volunteering?”

“Sure why not, fuck it,” Yeojin shrugs, this YOLO attitude was going to get her killed some day. “Just make it quick alright? I’ve got a game to play.”

Yerim pauses, caught off guard by Yeojin’s sheer audacity. But there’s no turning back now; her vampiric instincts kick in. She steps forward, grabbing Yeojin’s hand with surprising gentleness.

“Don’t say I did not warn you,” Yerim took a breath, her expression shifting from playful to something more intense. Her dark eyes glimmered with an unreadable emotion. She stepped closer, her fingers brushing lightly against Yeojin’s jawline “This is your last chance to leave.” she murmured, her hedonistic voice low and inviting.

She leaned in. Yerim tilted Yeojin’s chin upward to expose the soft, vulnerable skin of her neck, and for a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still. The world outside vanished; leaving only the two of them suspended in a moment that felt ancient and primal.

The light flickered against Yerim’s fangs which like twin daggers poised to strike. Yeojin felt a shiver of anticipation dance along her spine. The surprising warmth of Yerim’s breath ghosted over her skin. The younger expected it to be cold because well she is technically dead or undead or something right? There was an odd thrill coursing through her, a mix of fear and something deeper, something electric.

“Just breathe,” Yerim whispered in a tone both commanding and soothing. The intimacy of the moment wrapped around them. And Yeojin’s heart raced; not just from the looming danger, but from the intoxication of Yerim’s presence.

In one fluid expert motion, Yerim leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Yeojin’s neck. The younger gasped softly, her body instinctively pressing closer. And then she received her kiss from darkness. Yerim sank her fangs into Yeojin's neck with our hesitation.

The initial prick, a gateway into the night, was sharp. It sending a jolt of sensation coursing through Yeojin, igniting every synapse. It was a surprisingly gentle bite, as if Yerim was savouring the moment rather than simply taking and taking for her own benefit. The world around them blurred further, leaving only the feeling of soft flesh beneath the pressure of the taller girl's teeth and the warmth of blood rising to the surface.

She let go of her inhibitions, Yerim’s grip on Yeojin’s waist tightened, anchoring them both as her fangs sank deeper. In that moment, the thrill of the hunt melded with a disorienting blend of pleasure and danger. Yeojin’s heartbeat echoed through Yerim's ears, an eerie reality. It was a haunting reminder of life pulsing just beneath the surface. Life that could so easily be washed away.

Vampire Choerry brainrot never left me since that one fateful vlive in 2021. I love Vampire Choerry. All my homies love Vampire Choerry. Stan Vampire Choerry.

#loona #loona choerry #loona yeojin #artms #loossemble #vampires #halloween 2024 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #choi yerim #im yeojin #fluff #loona fanfic #Spotify #wlw #vivilvr

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vivilvr · 8 months ago

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I Bet on Losing Dogs

✧ Pairing: Ha Sooyoung x Kim Jungeun

“Hey…”

A hauntingly familiar voice called out from in front of Jungeun. She was focused on her feet, watching each step as she avoided cracks in the pavement, mindlessly entertaining herself on her late-night walk to the 24/7 convenience store. At first, she thought she was imagining it. But the voice lingered in the cool night air, too tangible to ignore.

✧ Wc: 4.1k ✧ Status: Completed

✧ Tags: Angst, Break Up, Chance Meetings, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Self-Indulgent, Jungeun is mean, its okay its warranted, Fluff and Angst, Post-Break Up, Sooyoung is an asshole (depends)

♫ Now playing: I Bet on Losing Dogs ♫

"Hey..."

Her body froze, fingers clenching tighter around the plastic bag she was carrying. She didn’t need to look up to know. There was no getting out of this Goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation (Brokeback Mountain ref) , was there?

With a slow reluctant breath, she looked up, and there she was: Sooyoung. The same as always, yet completely different. Fishnets, a pair of tight black shorts, a small white shirt, black corset on top and the faint glint of glitter along her cheekbones; a look that practically screamed she was either coming from or heading to trouble. Jungeun didn’t hide her irritation, her gaze turning cold as she met Sooyoung’s eyes. Whose flickered with surprise and maybe something akin to regret.

“Why are you talking to me?” Jungeun’s voice was sharp, stern, slicing through the silence that stretched between them.

Sooyoung blinked, momentarily taken aback. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a faint wry smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Still icy, huh?” she murmured, almost like it was a joke meant to soften the tension. But Jungeun didn’t flinch; she didn’t even soften. Sooyoung’s smile faded.

“You haven’t changed,” Jungeun added flatly, her eyes flicking over Sooyoung’s outfit, her smudged eyeliner, the faint redness around her eyes. “Not one bit.”

Sooyoung’s expression faltered, just for a second, but she quickly covered it up with a casual shrug. “Guess some of us can’t all be perfect,” she replied, an edge to her tone that sounded more hurt than she intended.

Jungeun looked away, her lips pressing into a thin line. It was all too familiar: the forced nonchalance, the half-hearted sarcasm. For a moment, she wondered why she’d even stopped. She could have kept walking, kept pretending that voice was just a memory slipping through the cracks of her mind. But here she was, standing in front of the person who had been her entire world once.. before everything shattered.

“So, where are you off to?” Sooyoung asked, breaking the silence. Her voice was softer now, almost hesitant.

Jungeun frowned. “Why does it matter?”

Sooyoung held up her hands, a faint, teasing smirk back on her face. “I don’t know, maybe I was just…curious? People tend to get curious about people they once… cared about.”

Jungeun scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “People who care about someone don’t ruin them, Sooyoung. Or do you not remember that part?”

Sooyoung’s face fell, and Jungeun felt a pang of guilt twist in her chest, but she ignored it. She wanted Sooyoung to feel this, to feel the weight of every time she’d walked away, high or unreachable, leaving Jungeun to pick up the pieces. But still, Sooyoung didn’t back down.

“Believe me, Jungeun,” Sooyoung said quietly, her voice softer than Jungeun had ever heard it. “I remember every part.”

For a moment, Jungeun didn’t know what to say. They just stared at each other, the gap between them feeling impossibly wide, filled with all the things left unsaid. Jungeun felt her chest tighten, a familiar ache she thought she’d left behind. She was supposed to be past this, past her.

“You don’t get to come back and say that,” Jungeun finally replied, her voice barely more than a whisper. “You don’t get to act like you care now. Not after everything.”

Sooyoung nodded, looking down at her feet, scuffing her heel against the pavement. “I know. I just… didn’t expect to see you.” She hesitated, running a hand through her hair. “But now that I have, I don’t know… I just thought maybe I’d tell you that. That I remember.”

Jungeun shook her head, feeling a mix of frustration and something deeper, something raw and unhealed. “What does that change, Sooyoung?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly despite herself. “Does it erase any of what you did?”

Sooyoung was silent, and in that quiet, Jungeun thought she saw a flicker of something close to shame. Maybe even remorse. But she didn’t trust it. Not now.

“I guess it doesn’t,” Sooyoung finally whispered, her voice nearly drowned out by a passing car. She looked at Jungeun, eyes glossy, and Jungeun thought maybe for a second that Sooyoung was just as haunted by the past as she was. “But I wish it did.”

Jungeun let out a slow breath, her shoulders dropping as the weight of their past settled between them. She wasn’t here to forgive. She wasn’t even here to understand. She was here to get some fucking toast. But as she looked at Sooyoung, a part of her felt lighter somehow, like she’d let go of some of the hurt she’d been carrying for too long.

“Goodnight, Sooyoung,” Jungeun said, turning away. She didn’t want to give Sooyoung a chance to respond, didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much she still affected her. But as she walked away, she could still feel Sooyoung’s gaze lingering on her back, heavy with everything they’d lost.

And for the first time in a long time, Jungeun didn’t look back.

_____

Jungeun shifted leaning on the wall as she waited for Sooyoung outside the cinema. She glanced at her phone for the third time, reading Jiwoo’s last-minute text.

! New messages from chuu030 Hey something came up I’m so sorry! Go without me tho Have fun!!

Alone with Sooyoung… Jungeun hadn’t expected this night to turn into a one-on-one hangout, and the thought made her feel a little more nervous than it should have. When she looked up, Sooyoung was walking towards her, hands wrapped around a cold soda cup, giving her a smile that made her heart skip.

“Guess it’s just us, huh?” Sooyoung said, raising an eyebrow. Her tone was casual, but Jungeun didn’t miss the glimmer of something in her eyes.. Was it surprise? Excitement?

Jungeun laughed awkwardly, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Yeah, guess so.”

As they settled into their seats in the dark theater, Jungeun couldn’t help but notice how her awareness of Sooyoung seemed heightened. The shared laughs during funny moments, the little glances they exchanged when something ridiculous happened onscreen. She felt like they were in on some secret, a connection that hadn’t been there before. She couldn’t help but notice Sooyoung glancing over, grinning as if she was more entertained by Jungeun than the movie itself.

When the credits rolled, Sooyoung turned to her. “How about dessert? Jiwoo’s not here, so more for us, right?”

Jungeun didn’t need convincing.

They ended up at a tiny dessert shop around the corner, ordering ice cream sundaes despite the chilly night air. The place was mostly empty, just the two of them tucked into a small booth, laughter bouncing between them as they shared bites of melting ice cream and talked about the movie. Jungeun was sitting next to Sooyoung, their thighs pressing together under the table in a way that felt both accidental and entirely deliberate.

“So, be honest,” Sooyoung said, spooning another bite. “What would you rate the movie?”

“Hmm…maybe a six?” Jungeun mused. “The plot was all over the place, but it was fun.”

Sooyoung raised her eyebrows, pretending to be scandalized. “A six? You’re telling me that two hour thrill ride wasn't sick?”

Jungeun laughed, nudging her gently with her shoulder. “Fine, eight. But that’s only because you were making jokes the whole time.”

Sooyoung’s smile softened, and Jungeun felt her heart skip a beat at the way Sooyoung’s gaze lingered, the usual glint of mischief in her eyes now gentler, warmer. The noise of the shop faded into the background, leaving just the two of them, knees brushing under the table, hands close enough that they could reach for each other if they dared. Jungeun’s cheeks warmed again, and she couldn’t help the shy smile that crept onto her face.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Jungeun held her breath, glancing at Sooyoung, and saw the faintest blush creeping up her cheeks.

_____

Over the next few days, Jungeun kept replaying that night in her head, analyzing every small moment, every accidental touch, and the way Sooyoung had looked at her as they laughed. She found herself lingering near Sooyoung more often, smiling a little too wide at her jokes, feeling her heart race every time they were close. It was exhilarating and terrifying.

Then a wild Jinsol appeared, wearing a knowing grin that made Jungeun’s stomach flip.

“So… Sooyoung likes you.” she announced, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Jungeun felt a hot rush spread across her cheeks, completely taken off guard. “Wh- what are you talking about?”

“Please.” Jinsol rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Everyone can see it. And if I were you, I’d do something about it before someone else does.” That last sentence came out sounding like a threat.

Jungeun spent the next few days in a whirlwind of emotions: excitement, doubt, nerves. What if she was just reading too much into things? What if Sooyoung didn’t actually feel that way about her? But every time they crossed paths, Jungeun felt the spark, the possibility of something more, lingering between them.

Finally, she couldn’t keep it in any longer. She told Jinsol about her new revelation of feelings, hoping she would keep it a secret. But of course, Jinsol went straight to Sooyoung, setting things in motion that Jungeun wasn’t quite prepared for. She barely had time to process her own confession before Jinsol came back, flashing a thumbs-up and a “You’re welcome!”

_____

Their second date felt different from the first, charged, full of unspoken things hovering between them. They ended up at that same fateful dessert shop, and this time, there was no doubt in Jungeun’s mind that this was a date. Sooyoung seemed more reserved than usual, her gaze flicking to Jungeun, then down to her hands as she stirred her sickeningly sweet drink absentmindedly.

At one point, Jungeun felt Sooyoung’s hand brush against hers, lingering for a moment before pulling away. Jungeun’s heart raced, and she wanted to say something, to clear the air, but the words felt heavy in her throat.

“So… Jinsol told me something,” Sooyoung said suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice was quieter, hesitant.

Jungeun felt her face go hot, her mind racing. “Oh?”

Sooyoung shifted, looking nervous in a way Jungeun had never seen before. “She… mentioned that maybe you felt… something. About us.”

Jungeun swallowed, trying to find her voice. “Maybe I do,” she admitted, her voice barely more than a whisper. “And maybe she told me something, too.”

Sooyoung’s expression softened, but there was still a hint of doubt in her eyes. “Jungeun… are we crazy for doing this?”

Jungeun bit her lip, choosing her words carefully. “Maybe. I don’t know. When I’m around you, everything feels.. different. Better. Like we’re in our own world.”

Sooyoung’s hand found Jungeun’s under the table, her fingers tentative but warm. “Me too,” she murmured, her gaze locking with Jungeun’s. “I just… I don’t want to mess up our friendship. I don’t want to lose you.”

Jungeun’s heart ached at the vulnerability in Sooyoung’s voice. She laced her fingers with Sooyoung’s, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Then let’s not mess it up,” she whispered, feeling a surge of courage. “I trust you, we can make it work.” Jungeun smiled so hard you'd think she was insane or got possessed by some cheerful demon.

They sat in silence, hands intertwined, both of them feeling the weight of the moment. Jungeun’s heart was racing, her mind spinning with everything this could mean. But at that moment, it felt right. It felt like the beginning of something real.

Sooyoung looked at her, a smile tugging at her lips before she starts giggling softly. “So… are you officially my girlfriend, then?”

Jungeun laughed, the last of her nerves disappearing. “Yeah, I think I am.”

And when Sooyoung leaned in, giving her a shy, gentle kiss, Jungeun knew that all the complications, all the doubts, were worth it.

_____

“Why do you keep lying to my face?” Jungeun interrogated, her voice laced with hurt. She stood across from Sooyoung, eyes blazing with a mix of anger and desperation. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re fucking out of it.” She scoffed, turning away as if to shield herself from the reality of the woman she loved falling apart before her.

Sooyoung’s breath caught, but she quickly masked it with defiance. “You know I’m trying to stop, baby. Why don’t you support me? Can’t you see that I’m trying?”

“No, you’re not! Not one bit!” Jungeun’s voice rose, echoing off the walls of her cramped apartment. The volume of their argument spiraled, each word becoming a blow that reverberated in the air between them.

The shadows of their past loomed large as Jungeun clenched her fists, the tension coursing through her. It had started with parties, with Sooyoung’s carefree attitude towards drugs, a dabble here, a line there. But now, standing in the aftermath of their love, it was evident that this was no longer a casual habit. It was an addiction, and Jungeun felt powerless watching it consume her girlfriend.

“It ain’t my fucking fault your parents were druggies and you can’t handle it!” Sooyoung shot back, her voice dripping with anger. The words hung in the air, heavy with accusation.

Jungeun’s jaw tightened at the familiar sting of those words. The memories flooded back; her mother slumped on the couch, eyes glassy and distant, the faint smell of smoke clinging to the air as she cried out for attention that never came. Her father’s drunken rants echoing through the night, breaking the fragile peace of their home, leaving Jungeun to play the caretaker for a mother who was barely present.

“Stop taking your shit out on me.” she said, her voice trembling with the effort to hold back tears. The ache in her throat tightened as her heart raced, the weight of Sooyoung’s words cutting deeper than any knife could.

“Stop pretending like you know me!” Sooyoung yelled, frustration spilling over. “You think you’re better than me just because you had a rough childhood? You don’t understand what I’m going through!”

“Maybe I do! I had to take care of my mom while you were out playing with your friends and partying! I didn't get to live!” Jungeun’s breath came in short bursts, her fists shaking at her sides. “You’re not the only one with a messed-up past, Sooyoung! I've been through shit.. so what! That doesn't mean I'm gonna spend all night out with random people, smoke one or take another line to ‘cope’. Fuck your bullshit coping mechanism.”

For a moment, silence filled the room, their breaths mingling in the charged atmosphere. Jungeun’s heart raced, pounding against her ribcage like a caged animal desperate to escape. She could see the conflict in Sooyoung’s eyes, the flicker of guilt beneath the anger.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you started this whole mess.” Sooyoung spat defensively, her voice low and biting.

Jungeun’s heart shattered at the words. How had they come to this? Once, they were so sweet together; laughing, exploring the city, sharing secret glances and soft kisses. Butterflies that once thrived in her stomach had withered away turning into leeches which sucked her away from the inside out. Now standing here in the ruins of their relationship, she couldn’t help but question everything.

Where did it all go wrong? She thought back to their first dates and the way they had nestled into each other’s sides, sharing laughter over desserts and late-night movie marathons in this very apartment. It felt so far away, like a dream slipping through her fingers.

But now, it felt as if that dream was suffocating under the weight of unresolved pain. She looked at Sooyoung, and for a fleeting moment, she saw the girl she fell in love with. The one with the carefree smile and cute bunny teeth, the one who made her laugh in the dark. But that girl felt like a ghost now, lost beneath the haze of drugs and anger.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Jungeun whispered, tears pricking at her eyes. The fight had drained her, leaving only the exhaustion of holding on to something that felt increasingly fragile. She leaned on the wall and slipped down to squat on the floor, head falling between her knees. “I’m scared, Sooyoung. Scared of losing you, of what you’re becoming.”

Sooyoung’s expression faltered, a mix of anger and pain crossing her features. “You think I want this? You think I enjoy it?”

“I don’t know!” Jungeun snapped back not wanting to look up, frustration boiling over. “But you have to choose. Either you fight for us, or… or I don’t know how much longer I can watch you do this to yourself.”

The words hung in the air, the implications clear, and Jungeun’s heart sank. She knew this wasn’t just about what Sooyoung indulged in, it was about trust, love, and the scars of their pasts that intertwined in painful ways.

And for the first time, it felt like their love was teetering on the edge of a cliff.

_____

Jungeun sat on the couch, scrolling through her phone mindlessly, the glow of the screen illuminating her anxious face. She had tried to push the nagging doubts about Sooyoung’s behavior out of her mind since their last argument, be a bit more compassionate and have an open mind, but the feeling of dread festered like an open wound. The unease had become a constant companion, whispering that something was very wrong.

She had seen the messages pop up on Sooyoung’s phone, a quick glance and there they were: flirty texts from multiple girls and guys. She doesn't even fucking like guys like that?? Each notification felt like a punch to the gut, but she had forced herself to look away, hoping it was all in her imagination. Sooyoung had insisted she was trying to change, that she was committed to their relationship. But Jungeun couldn’t shake the feeling that the truth was lurking just beneath the surface.

It was a Saturday night when Jungeun’s worst fears came to fruition. She had agreed to meet with some friends for drinks at their favorite bar, needing some distraction from the anxiety that ate her up. As she entered the bar, the lively chatter and laughter enveloped her, but all she could think about was Sooyoung.

When she spotted Jiwoo and Heejin at a table, Jungeun felt a flicker of relief. She forced herself to smile as she approached, but her mind was elsewhere.

“Hey, you made it finally!” Jiwoo exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “We were just about to get another round. Come on, sit!”

As the evening wore on, Jungeun found herself laughing, ignoring the persistent knot in her stomach. But when she glanced toward the entrance, her heart dropped. Sooyoung walked in, her signature grin lighting up the room. But next to her were two girls. One on the left and one on the right. Leaning in a little too close, their laughter ringing out as they looked at her like she was the only person in the world.

Jungeun’s stomach churned. She watched as Sooyoung chatted animatedly with them, her eyes sparkling, the way they used to when they were together. But now, there was a stinging distance between them. The tension in Jungeun’s chest tightened as she realized that this was not just innocent fun.

She froze in place, her heart sinking further as she witnessed Sooyoung lean in closer to one of the girls, their heads tilted together in laughter. And then without warning, Sooyoung cupped the girl’s face and kissed her softly, the kiss lingering just long enough for Jungeun to feel the air leave her lungs.

What was she doing?

It felt like the ground was shifting beneath her. Jungeun knew deep down that Sooyoung had been lying to her. The late nights out, the vague excuses, the refusal to share details about her friends… it all started to make sense. She had tried to convince herself otherwise, to believe in Sooyoung’s words, but now she could see it for what it was: Sooyoung was cheating on her. She could take it if it was just one other girl but it was multiple. Were Jungeun’s feelings just a game to her? What happened to their countless promises for a future together?.

“Whatcha looking at?” Heejin asked, following Jungeun’s gaze. Jiwoo had gone to the bathroom, Heejin was the only one there to witness the turmoil of emotions spread across Jungeun's face.

“Nothing,” Jungeun said quickly, her heart racing. “I just…”

Without finishing her sentence, Jungeun got up and she pushed her way through the crowd, her heart pounding as she approached Sooyoung. Each step felt like an anvil pressing down on her chest, and she could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up her neck.

“Sooyoung!” Jungeun called out, her voice trembling slightly as she reached them.

Sooyoung turned, surprise flashing across her face, but it quickly morphed into that familiar grin. “Jungeun! Hey, come meet my friends!”

“Friends?” Jungeun echoed, feeling the bitterness slip into her tone. “Is that what we’re calling them now?”

The two girls exchanged confused looks and stepped back, and Sooyoung’s smile faltered. “What do you mean? They’re just-”

“Just what, Sooyoung?” Jungeun interrupted, anger bubbling to the surface. “Just your friends? I’ve seen how you’ve been talking to them. I saw it all! You’ve been lying to me again, haven’t you?”

Sooyoung’s face hardened. “You’re overreacting. We’re just talking, it’s nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious?” Jungeun scoffed, her voice rising above the noise of the bar. “How am I supposed to believe you? You think this is just casual for me? I can’t stand here and pretend everything is fine while you flirt with other people like it’s a game!”

“I’m not flirting!” Sooyoung shot back, defensive. “You’re being ridiculous! I can talk to whoever I want!”

“Really?” Jungeun felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “Because it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like you’re running away from me. You said you were trying to change, Sooyoung, but you’re not even putting in the effort!”

Sooyoung’s jaw tightened, the laughter and carefree atmosphere around them evaporating. “You’re just projecting your own fucking issues onto me. Just because your parents were addicts doesn’t mean I’m going to end up doing the same shit!”

Jungeun flinched at the jab, the memories of her chaotic childhood flashing through her mind. The emotional scars ran deep, but she was fighting for them, fighting for their love. “I’m not projecting! I just wished you'd be honest with me, it's the least you can do. But you’re making it impossible to trust what you say!”

The tension hung in the air like an elastic band ready to snap at any second. Jungeun felt the weight of everything crashing down around her, she could hear her heart pounding as she tried to maintain her composure.

“So what do you want me to say?” Sooyoung’s voice was harsh, but there was a flicker of uncertainty behind her eyes. “You want me to apologize for having fun? For living my life?”

“No, I want you to be honest with me!” Jungeun pleaded, her voice cracking. “I want you to be real with me! I don’t want to feel like I’m fighting for scraps of your attention, Sooyoung. If you don’t want me, whatever you're doing, just say it!”

Sooyoung stared at her, a mix of anger and pain in her eyes. For a moment, the world around them faded away, leaving just the two of them standing on the ashes of their crumbling relationship.

Finally, Sooyoung took a step back, the distance between them feeling insurmountable. “Maybe you should just go back to your friends, Jungeun,” she said coldly, turning away from her.

The path of love they once walked together was coming to a dead end, and the girl she once knew was slipping away down a fork in the road. As she stood there, surrounded by the noise of the bar and the laughter that felt so foreign now, Jungeun knew that the battle for their love had become a fight she couldn’t win.

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