#but in theory YES makes me very happy when its over

[shima-draws]

Tell us about the AU! I know you want to!!

WAUGHHH. AGHHH. OKAY. OKAY SO. I've been watching one of my favorite content creators play through the DLC. Early on in the playthrough he was tossing around theories and said "Maybe KIERAN is Ogerpon??" and that gave me a BRILLIANT THOUGHT.

Ogerpon Kieran AU.......

I've already thought of a very long and complex backstory for this LOL but to simplify it. Before the ogre and its human companion came to Kitakami, said companion was actually living a very happy life with his child. However, they were caught up in the midst of a great war that ended up taking the child's life. The man was so overcome with grief that it summoned a great being (I'm thinking Xerneas), who blessed his dead child with new life. And that child was reborn as Ogerpon!! So kinda like how children who get lost in the woods and die are reborn as Phantump.

Fast forward to many many years later. A long chain of events leads to Carmine's grandfather's...father (so, her great-grandpa?) meeting Ogerpon and vowing to make it a new mask, a mystical and powerful mask that could grant wishes. Sadly, Carmine's great-grandpa wasn't able to complete the mask before he died. This project was eventually picked up by Carmine's father (and I have a whole other thing about him but I'm not gonna get into it right now lol). Carmine's father forms a very close bond with Ogerpon as he continues to gather materials to finish the wish mask. He expresses his desire for Ogerpon to finally be able to walk among the villagers with its name cleared, and for Ogerpon to meet his only daughter. He leaves for a journey to find the last material for the mask...and never returns 😔

Carmine's grandfather has a whole complex about the wish mask, but after seeing both his father and his son dedicate so much time and care into completing it, he takes the last material, imbued with the hopes and dreams of his family, and finally finishes the mask. When he presents it to Ogerpon, Ogerpon dons the mask and its wish is granted...it becomes human :") So it becomes Kieran, basically!! Kieran's wish was to be able to say thank you to all of the generations of mask makers that had helped him, and. To be part of their family 🥺 What he doesn't know is that his wish to be human stems from the fact that he already was human, once. But he doesn't remember his life before he was reborn as a Pokemon.

So, Carmine's grandfather happily accepts Kieran and his desire, and takes him home to live with him and Carmine. Note that Kieran is probably around 5-6 at the time, so he's BABY. And Carmine is only about a year or two older. She isn't sure what to think about suddenly getting a new brother, but she's happy to have someone to boss around lmao.

And once a year, during the festival of masks, Kieran lets his facade fall and wanders around as Ogerpon again. Just to keep in touch with his roots haha

So obviously with Kieran being Ogerpon the events of the DLC will play out differently than canon. Kieran slyly compliments the ogre in front of the player and mentions that maybe it's just misunderstood. He's been trying for a while to change the villagers' minds about what happened to him and the Loyal Three all those years ago, but it hasn't been going...too well lol. So when the player shows up, and things start to shift, Kieran gets really excited bc he realizes he finally might be able to clear his name :")

Is this AU silly and dumb as hell? Yes. Does it not really make sense with canon and is full of plot holes? Yes. Am I brainrotting over it anyway? Also yes.

Take a little edit I did of Kieran's official art to fit what I had in mind for the AU ;) I wanted to draw it but I'm at work rn lmao RIP

ALSO LITTLE DOODLE OF THE BOY

ALSO bc of Ogerpon's original gender Kieran probably goes by he/they pronouns in the AU

#Listen I know this AU is stupid as hell but it means SO much to me #Shima answers questions #Pokemon #The Teal Mask #Pokemon Kieran #Pokemon Carmine #Ogerpon #Kieranpon AU #Shima's AUs #I'm brainrotting SO hard. HELP #Long post

[fallow-hollow]

five stages of grief

…ft! kabru x gn! oblivious! reader

…tags! pining, confession, kabru is a bit of a freak about this, oblivious reader, reader is an adventurer

…word count! 2671

…notes! spreading my kabruganda to the masses!!! kabru is my me so I very much enjoy writing him

denial

At first, Kabru was so convinced that there was something behind your happy-go-lucky exterior.

You were so skilled in the dungeon, able to make it down to floors that even he hadn’t traversed yet. So you must have a good grasp on tactics, not only in battle, but also when socializing! Yes, maybe you read people expertly when they’d respond in kind to your friendly behavior…..

During the stage where you’re acquainted but don’t know much about each other personally, he spends so long crafting theories about what’s going on inside your head.

His party members get sick of hearing about it halfway through the second week.

Once you meet again in person, he’s ecstatic to have an opportunity to take a closer look at your inner workings. His words and mannerisms are calm and purposeful, but there is a certain spark in his eyes, almost trying to illuminate your thoughts and feelings with its shine.

Over the course of the conversation, Kabru starts getting a bit confused at his lack of new findings about you. It takes you saying something particularly damning for him to finally reach the dreaded conclusion.

“I don’t usually run into you in places like this.”

Kabru had encountered you one evening after exiting his room and seeing you and a few party members at the bar. It was nothing short of a strike of luck, and most certainly not him deliberately staying home that evening because he’d overheard your plans to go out.

“Hm?” You perked up, looking at him with a blank expression that was quickly replaced with a kind smile. Even trying to look closely, he couldn’t find anything present in your face except for a simple joy.

He would approach you with long strides, placing one hand on the back of your chair as to be friendly and intimate, but not so intimate as to make you recoil from a touch. The wink he gave you was with the eye facing away from the others on the opposite side of the table, ensuring most of them wouldn’t notice his flirtatious gesture.

“Want me to buy you a drink?”

Immediately, you raised one hand in polite refusal, your smile turning into more of a sheepish one. “Oh, I don’t know if I’d be able to pay you back. I wasn’t going to splurge much tonight anyway….”

As you talked, Kabru pulled up a free chair and sat down, a gesture that cemented himself in the conversation and setting. He noticed when he sat down in the middle of conversation, it made people less likely to turn him away than if he were still standing.

“No, no.” when he shook his head, his dark curls did a swishing movement. Once he looked back at you, he gave a half-lidded smile, only a tinge sultry in hopes you’d pick up his hints. “Your company is more than enough payment for me.”

Your party could only stare on with absolute pity as you waved your previously raised hand dismissively, giving what Kabru could only assume was a reassuring nod. Why did you think he needed reassured….? What did you think he meant?

“It’s completely fine, no need to be polite! We’re beyond such niceties at this point, I’d say. After all, I consider us to be at least a little bit friends, right? You don’t need to buy me a drink just to hang out!”

For a brief period, Kabru felt as if his whole world was spinning around him, before then shattering at the unknowing sledgehammer of your words. These statements and mannerisms suggested something far more than just a passive rejection…… no, it was something much darker.

You truly were as dense as a brick wall.

anger

Kabru doesn’t always react….. too calmly when people defy his expectations.

He’s able to keep a smile on his face just fine, but on the inside he’s screaming.

What do you mean there isn’t more? Where’s the scheme? The ulterior motive? The familiar secrets he can unravel and use to his advantage? Is it so bad that he wants there to be more?????

I’ll be honest, the man experiences his fair number of homicidal thoughts about you. In a strangely romantic way!

You’ll be chatting away with him, each remark and flirtation absolutely flying over your head, and inside his mind he’s just going I should gut them right here and sort their bones and vitals by size if they won’t let me dissect them the mental way.

And then seconds later he’ll go haha what was that! Anyway yes tell me more about the cute bird you saw last week.

I think Kabru does a lot of journaling, so he has a fair number of notes about you. Sometimes they’re drawings of you with notes about your appearance and physical mannerisms, other times he writes more free form about his thoughts regarding you. When he gets particularly frustrated, the writing can became scratchy or heavy handed to the point that it’s unreadable or nearly tears the paper.

The silence and solitude of the night was briefly interrupted by Rin rolling over in her sleeping bag. She was just beyond the range of the firelight where Kabru was still writing, and he could only barely see the way she squinted at him through her own tiredness.

“What are you scribbling about so late at night?” The mage would try to start another sentence, but be cut off by a yawn. If she was trying to be intimidating, it certainly wasn’t working. “Go to bed, Kabru, or else you’ll wake up to being sprayed by an undine if I have anything to say about it.”

That was a rather unpleasant thought….. even if the threat wasn’t legitimate, Kabru recognized that he’d probably spent far more time writing than intended. It was embarrassingly easy to get distracted when it came to you….just another thing that irked him about you. Yes…..’irked’. That’s most certainly the word.

“I’ll wrap it up soon, sorry to disturb your sleep, Rin.” With a grumble, the girl rolled back over, leaving Kabru to glance at his notebook for just a brief moment more before closing it. The writing was near illegible, but he still knew the words by heart:

‘I wouldn’t mind if they were scared of me. Maybe, if they sat on the other end of my sword, trembling and wide-eyed like human prey, I’d get to see a truly untouched side of them.’

bargaining

After the shock and rage subsides, Kabru tries to make you realize his feelings through pretty much every method imaginable except for confessing.

It feels like the man always appears at your side, always claiming he ‘happened to be in the area’ or something similar. And you never even question it, infuriatingly for him.

Your party members often tell you that something is up with the guy, that he’s hanging around you a suspicious amount but never being fully transparent, but you’d feel so bad about being suspicious of him when he’s done nothing but inquire about you and even offer gifts on rare occasions!

Kabru isn’t exactly the richest of adventurers, so gifts or treating you isn’t a regular occasion, but it’s certainly something he resorts to as a last ditch effort to try and get you to realize that he’s interested in you romantically.

Once he even tried to offer you a flower, but you still didn’t take the hint.

When you saw the flower in Kabru’s hand that day, your first thought was being so flattered that he remembered your conversation about which ones you both liked.

“Oh, Kabru!” You exclaimed with pure joy, causing the man to become embarrassingly excited that perhaps you had finally noticed the meaning behind all his gestures. Were you finally moved and wowed by his considerate, perfectly planned gift.

Clapping your hands together, you would beam and say, “You liked my favorite flower so much that you wanted to get one for yourself?”

A fly could’ve soared down Kabru’s throat in the time of that pause, but you paid it no mind, instead eagerly awaiting his reply.

The look on Kabru’s face was a completely blank smile, his bright blue eyes seeming to have almost burned out like a pair of oil lamps. Then, as he regained his composure, those lights flickered back on again, albeit wavering slightly.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take it yourself? If you like it so much, I’d be happy to let you take it home.” Poor Kabru, he should have learned by now that hints have no effect against the impenetrable fortress that is your cluelessness.

Your grin was the nail in the coffin, letting him know you had something in your head that was absolutely not anything he could anticipate from anyone else. “But why not use it as some decoration? Your party members always talk about how sparse your room is, and it could even remind you of me when I’m away! Here—“

You ushered him closer, a hand now on the small of his back giving him sparks that teetered between pleasurable and painful. The free hand gestured to the plant he held so delicately, pointing out different features like the petals, stem, and so on. “I can even tell you some facts about it; that’ll help you enjoy it that much more deeply whenever you see it! And you’ll remember our conversation!”

The way you could be so resistant to his advances yet so sweet to him could be nothing short of torturous sometimes.

depression

For a while, something fairly rare happens to Kabru: he falls into a slump.

He spends a long time in the dungeon, slashing away at monsters as if it might help him clear his head. His teammates notice that he can get more aggressive in combat than usual, but never really ask him about it.

He also becomes more spacey during mealtimes, and while some peaceful silence is nice, having Kabru of all people be so uncharacteristically quiet for so long.

It comes to the point that something similar to an intervention happens one day after dinner.

“What’s up with you, Kabru?” Mickbell wasn’t one to beat around the bush, immediately starting his line of questioning while looking at his teammate, void of mischief or amusement. “You’ve been all broody and silent all week. Can’t just expect us to not ask about it.”

“What Mickbell said,” Kuro concurred almost immediately after.

The tallman did his best to blink away his tiredness and offer a more confident look that he usually used when trying to rally his team under an idea or calm them down. “I didn’t mean to make you guys worry that much about me. It’s just something I’ve been personally interested in, so it’s not something you guys need to worry about.”

“A personal problem?” Rin cocked a brow. “If I know anything about what interests you, it’s probably a person.”

“Haha, caught me red-handed like always.” He raised his hands in faux surrender, though Rin didn’t seem to be put at ease by the gesture, so he tacked on another statement. “I was surprisingly stumped on what tactics to use when talking to a certain person, it’s really got me thinking.” Averting his gaze to the side, he could almost conjure an image of your grinning face in the corner of his vision. “It’s pretty exciting, though, so I don’t mind.”

“Ugh, I knew it!” The half foot threw his head back in exasperation, causing Kuro to extend one arm behind him in case he fell. “It’s that brick-headed adventurer you’re getting all cozy with, isn’t it?! What, you thinking of starting a new party?”

While Mickbell was busy stomping his foot to punctuate his accusation, Holm merely hummed. The gnome usually stayed pretty impartial to matters like this, but that didn’t mean he could always resist throwing in a comment or two.

“I’d be stumped too if I thought about human interaction like a battlefield.” His tone of voice remained soft, but his words were still quite pointed. “You really have to be upfront about your feelings sometimes, you know that? At least, if Mick’s description can actually be trusted.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!”

After those two broke down into petty squabbling, Kabru could merely try his best to mask his realization behind a tight-mouthed grin.

Holm was right, and he hated it more than anything.

acceptance

Okay, this is the part where Kabru actually bites the bullet and talks about his feelings. Truly a miracle of life.

Kabru can have a lot of trouble being fully vulnerable due to feeling like he’s losing control, so he does his best to maintain control over the rest of the outing. He arranges the time, location, even makes sure to get there first. It’s the most he can do to not feel completely helpless at the whims of his own fickle heart.

When you arrive, a new wave of nervousness hits him that’s almost like nothing before. Kabru has slain men without a second thought, and here he is resisting the urge to tremble because he has to tell his crush he likes them.

He starts off with small talk, sort of building up to his confession while also beating around the bush just a little. Asking you how you’ve been, if you’ve done anything noteworthy, if you’ve meet any new people…..

Eventually, Kabru decides that if he waits any longer, he may instinctually try to hide his intentions in the long strings of small talk he’s making, so he finally takes that leap.

He said your name, and your eyes flickered up to his face. Even if you were spacey at times, you never stared past him or through him whenever he was addressing you. It made him feel….strange. It was odd to feel truly perceived at times.

“Can I be….. terribly honest with you?” He cards his fingers through his curls and closes his eyes, and you couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly beautiful he looked.

“Of course,” you responded without thinking. Not like you ever needed to think twice about your appreciation for the man. More than that, really.

There was stillness, and all you could hear was Kabru’s deep inhale through his nose. He intended to phrase it more eloquently, he really did, but when he opened his eyes again and saw you waiting on his words with baited breath, there was this instinctive fear that maybe this would be his only chance. That you would walk away or disappear, leaving him with only the memory.

He didn’t want just a memory.

“I want you to know that I love you above all else.”

Your mouth hung agape like his had many times in response to your own remarks. Were it not for how shocked he was at his own words, he would have chuckled at how cute you look.

Before he could even scramble to elaborate on his uncharacteristically blunt comment, you blurted out in a similar fashion, voice slightly raised and head perked up,

“You really feel that way?!”

Faced with your blushing face, Kabru could only affirm the feelings that you promoted from somewhere deep within him. “Yes, I’d been trying to win you over for a long time, really.”

If you were flushed before, then now you were nothing short of flooded with embarrassment from ear to ear. Despite this, you were smiling, wobbly and sheepish. “I mean, it’s not like I’m shocked in a bad way or anything — I always thought you were really wonderful, too wonderful for me anyway. I really never thought you were pursuing me of all people!”

For the longest time, your denseness had given Kabru untold grief. Upon seeing you state it so plainly, however, he just couldn’t find it in his heart to be upset. Not when it was one of the things that made you so fascinating.

“I’d sort of figured as such, yeah.”

#ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ fallow’s works! #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon #delicious in dungeon imagines #delicious in dungeon x reader #kabru of utaya #kabru dungeon meshi #kabru x reader #kabru of utaya x reader

[lostidiot24]

Hi! *

First off loved dog days are over, is it OK to recuest a part 2? 0 ++++

Thanks, so my keypad is misbehaving.

Hi!!! I’m so happy that you liked it😭 and of course! I really liked the idea I had for this story and I’m glad other people enjoyed it.

🪽Mary on a Cross🩹

Batfamily x Gender Neutral!sibling!Reader

Part 1: Dog Days Are Over

Song: Mary on a Cross by Ghost

Summary: After being rescued by Dick, your life has been anything but normal. Being a vigilante has its own unique risks but this incident has made your family very aware. Turns out, seeing your family member half dead can make you question your life choices.

TW: Burns maybe? None?? If there is any then please tell me!

(This took me a while to write cause my brain decided to stop imagining for once in its life but I hope you like this part😁)

/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/

Your senses came back very slowly. You could feel your hand twitch before the sounds of people talking over each other invaded your ears. A gentle but scarred hand clasped yours in a tender manner before your mind cleared. With a jolt, you sat up frantically and shook in slight fear. Your eyes opened and quickly shut from the bright lights. Your family was worried even more when your eyes showing no sign that you recognized them. Your body had many weird reactions to things and one was fainting out of fear, so that’s what you did.

Silence surrounded the cot you laid on as your family stared at your unconscious body.

“At least they’re not scared anymore…?” Steph shrugged with a nervous smile as she grabbed the hand that Jason wasn’t holding. He glared at her before looking back down on your body with a worried gaze.

“They’re fine. They were out of it when Dick picked them up so they probably don’t know where they are.” Tim walked through the doors of the med bay and sat down on a chair near the cot. “We got them stabilized so now we just have to wait.”

/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/

When you woke up, it was peaceful. Your body swayed gently with a gasp as your eyes widened at the sight before you. Everyone was asleep. Tim was asleep on the spinning chair while everyone else either slept on a cot or on the chairs for people visiting. Bruce and Alfred weren’t in the room with you and you guessed that was because it was the day already. Based on the clock on the desk, it was 11:17 am. With a wobble, you stood up off the cot and tiptoed into the cave.

When you left the med bay fully, you looked down and saw that you were in some pajamas that looked like yours. With fear in your eyes, you checked and was relieved to see that they didn’t take off your vigilante suit. While yes, your wounds needed to be treated, you were glad that they respected your privacy. They treated the ones that could be seen from outside the suit but you guessed that there probably wasn’t any under anyway. You carefully tiptoed up to your room after you walked out of the cave and up the stairs. When you got where to your room, you changed into different pajamas and assessed the damage fully. Burns rose up your back and crawled over your shoulders and around your thighs.

How can I not feel them?

The clock on your bedside table glowed slightly as the numbers and the date lit up. It’s been a week?! Questions swirled in your head but you settled upon the theory that they put a lot of pain relief in your blood. A knock sounded at your door and you quickly put your shirt back down before opening it. It was Dick.

“[Name]! I was so worried when you weren’t in the med bay!” He quickly walked towards you and wrapped quivering arms around your body. The ache of pain ran through your back when his arms pushed upon the burns. Dick quickly realized his mistake and pushed away from you. “Oh sorry, forgot about that… oh and B wants to talk to you.” The mention of your adoptive father created a cold environment in your room. He wasn’t a terrible father! He just had too many kids to keep track of, or that’s what you tell yourself.

“[Name]?”

“Oh sorry Dick, I was lost in my thoughts but I’ll be down in a minute.” He gave you a warm and nervous smile while her turned away, walking down the stairs. You stood in your thought for a valid amount of time until you pushed past your door and started your trek into the unknown ground of Bruce’s emotions.

/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/——

A/N: I’m definitely gonna make another part that has some angst/comfort from my favorite brother Jason🤩 but for now I’m gonna leave it here and give my mind a break lol

#damian wayne x reader #jason todd x reader #bruce wayne x reader #stephanie brown x reader #duke thomas x reader #tim drake x reader #cassandra cain x reader #dick grayson x reader #batfamily x sibling!reader #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #lostidiot🪻

[markrosewater]

A friend shared this in our discord and I asked him to send it to you, but he doesn't use Tumblr, so I asked if I could. It was far better written than some of thoughts and seemed worth sharing with you. "My Magic Cards' Lament As you all know, I love me some cube. Its my favorite way to play magic and, more importantly, my favorite way to /think/ about magic. I enjoy theory crafting cubes on the Cobra and imagining different possibilities. But I've noticed something recently: I've become desensitized to the aesthetic. And this isn't by choice. Scrolling through scryfall I find myself reading over UB cards from fallout or assassins creed or dr who or warhammer and thinking "this is a really unique effect and would fit perfectly in this cube". But it hurts to put them in. As someone who's genuinely obsessive/compulsive its a very bothersome incongruity. Sometimes I put them in, sometimes I don't, but I have to start ignoring aspects of the card for my own wellbeing which is often difficult. Regardless of my decision, I find that I shrink the card down to only its mechanics and its interaction with other cards' mechanics, and lose touch with the great aesthetic and world-building that got me so excited about magic in the first place. UW is not a priority to them, and if they even do make Magic equivalents, it would be released 2-3 years from now. I believe this to be a serious threat to the longevity of MTG, and it has me leaning more into other TCGs."

Universes Beyond might be the latest topic, but this is a note I've gotten many times over the years. A player writes to me that they love the game, but there's this element in the game that they have problems with. If only the element weren't there, their enjoyment of the game would increase greatly. But there are a lot of players for whom that element is something that makes the game more enjoyable for them.

The core problem is this. It's much easier to add things to the system than take them away. To use my buffet metaphor. We can add seafood because there are many players who have a better meal if seafood is there, but there's not a lot we can do for people who feel the buffet is lessened for seafood being in it. Yes, if enough people have issues with seafood, we can take it away, but what do we do when a majority likes the seafood and a small minority dislikes it?

I can encourage players to not eat the seafood, and even find other players who all promise to not eat the seafood when eating at the same table, but it's not something I can address while still keeping all the seafood lovers happy.

My answer is part of what makes a community is the understanding that others will enjoy things you don't and that things bringing happiness to others is a net gain for the community. Find the foods you love at the buffet and accept that the foods you don't like being there makes the customers of the buffet as a whole happier.

[hopeluna-archived]

Don't hide that smile!

□ Request: Hi! I have a request for obey me but I'd like to remain anonymous, how about a mc who hides their teeth and wears a face mask to hide them? It's alright if you cant do all, just at least leviathan if you can, thank you :)

□ Characters: Leviathan, Simeon, Satan x gn!reader

□ Genre: fluff, comfort?

□ A/N: I wanted to do four characters but my brain legit couldn't come up with shit, also I kinda bullshitted on Satan's part sorry but here you go anon, I hope you like it <3

M.list

Leviathan

At first, Levi really just thought that you might have an allergy and simply let it be. But as your relantionship progressed and you spend more and more time with each other he began to question it.

He won't say anything at first, afraid to make you uncomfortable in any way but when one day you two were playing a game together and you had grinned as the "you win" flashed on the screen.

Levi just sort of blurted it out when you brought a hand up to cover your smile. And when you looked at him in confusion? Oh how he wished the ground would just swallow him up whole.

When you tell him that you are kinda insecure of your teeth, this demon is confusion. Why would you not like your teeth? They look perfectly fine to him. In fact, he loves when you smile, not that he would ever admit to that.

But from then, Levi tries to get you to smile more, even if it comes at the price of embarassing himself. Oh and if any idiot tries to make a negative remark about your smile or teeth? Levi has the power of god and anime on his side and he will defend you to the end.

Satan

Similar to Levi, Satan didn't question it but from all his observing, he did have a theory in his mind that you didn't quite like your smile. As you relationship blossoms into something more, he starts observing more and more.

How you hid your smile or covered your mouth with your hand when you laughed. And Satan, not surprisingly, directly asked you about it. His mind was itching to figure out this habit of yours.

When you tell him that its 'cause you don't like your teeth very much, he has hundreds of questions on the tip of his tongue. Questions, which he chooses not to ask you all at once in case it overwhelms you.

Satan will specifically ask the question "did someone tell you something to make you feel that way?", 'cause if the answer is yes then Adrien Agreste here is ready to commit homicide.

But aside from that, he'll help you overcome this little by little, with always being by your side through it all.

Simeon

Ever so observing towards the tiniest little things, Simeon quickly picks up on the habit of yours. Of course, he understands that everybody has their insecurities but it doesn't change the fact that he is severely confused why you don't like that smile of yours.

To him, it brighten ups the room and his heart when he sees you smile or laugh. Simeon doesn't exactly outright talk to you about it for a long time, instead opting to drive your insecurities away subtly.

Like when you don't cover up your laugh or smile 'cause you're just too distracted, Simeon will give you the most lovesick expression and in the softest voice, tell you how beautiful your smile is which in turn makes your cheeks heat up.

When he finally talks to you about it, its when you once again go to cover your smile with your hand and Simeon's own hand, without thinking, reaches up to take your hand and hold it gently in his.

To him, there is nothing more serene than seeing the love of his life,his angel be happy and smiling. And though no matter how much time it takes for you to come to terms with it, Simeon will be there to say it a thousand times over and over if he needs to.

───────────

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!! Do not repost or claim as yours though, its not cool.

#obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me fluff #obey me comfort #obey me x reader fluff #obey me x gn!reader #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me levi x mc #obey me leviathan fluff #obey me levi fluff #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me leviathan x mc #obey me simeon fluff #obey me simeon x reader #obey me simeon x mc #obey me leviathan headcanons #obey me levi headcanons #obey me simeon headcanons #obey me satan x reader #obey me satan fluff #obey me satan headcanons #obey me satan x mc #obey me scenarios #obey me imagines #obey me oneshots #obey me brothers x reader #obey me brothers x mc

[thebunniesgrim]

I'm getting way too much enjoyment watching how some of Helluva Boss fandom is raving over the popular current theory that stolas is going to die in the series.  

Because of the Oops episode and how the skull and cross bones in the smoke clock landed on Stolas and other stuff  

I.e.  

Having imp assasins in LooLoo Land 

Stella  

Striker  

His lullaby saying that when he’s gone Octavia will be ok and that today could be his last (I could go on a whole tangent about that lullaby it's so good)  

Western Energy  (that's it)

I'm not saying I want stolas to die but am I also saying it would be funny to watch the fandom go up in flames about it?  

Well call me Phineas and Ferb because

Yes  

yes I am 

You can stop reading here if you want. Under the cut I'm just rambling justifying why I think what I think. there are some jokes and lighthearted critiques, but you know... you have the option to look and give your own opinions  :)

I mean I have my grievances with him like I've said in my other post (shameless plug Warning I'm very illiterate in case you haven't noticed) but like I don’t wish death upon him I still like Stolas believe it or not   

lol.

In fact I hope stolas doesn’t die and mostly I don’t think stolas is going to die at all frankly. I highly dout the writers/viv/whoever is going to actually kill off stolas mostly because like any time stolas is in danger its so underminded like- ok LooLoo land is mostly a joke (good joke too I like the end where Stolas turns the imp guy into stone good pay off), Stella played for laughs beacues shes making the hit right in front stolas and it doesn’t get paid off till the next season which is fine the seasons are short, Western Energy he was fine like an episode later.  

If home boy cant be hospitalized for more than one episode he isn't dying  

Granted I will allow some leeway as we don’t know how much time has passed since Western Energy to Oops but it- I don’t think stab wounds and broken arms heal that fast regardless of that :/ if I'm being honest especially if it was a holy weapon just saying.  

Even if he did die that brings up a lot of questions like what happens to demons when they die? Are all demons immortal and can only die due to physical damage? are Asmodeus and Beelzebub going to outlive Fizz and Vortex if imps and hellhounds/other demons aren't immortal. Were the 7 deathly sins ever babies like everyone else? If demons are immortal and can live forever and the Ars Goitias can only be killed by angelic weapons that are hard to get, I'm assuming, why do, they need to have children or heirs? Why even have children at all? If angelic weapons can kill demons do demonic weapons exist and can they kill angels or other holy beings?   

All this and more on You Can't Answer These Questions at 8 

Lol  

anyways

but in all seriousness 

Here’s the real question  

If they did actually kill Stolas, will they bring him back?  

Riddle me this batman  

there's a very the very real outcome of them bringing stolas back through some magical demonic bs anyway so like it really won't matter. They're not going to have Stolas bite the dust permanently and if they are... respect honestly (the balls frankly).  

People will cry, I'll laugh because I'm heartless, he’ll be like resurrected or something, and everyone will be happy or mad idk.    

Like it's one thing for Millie to get hurt in the other episodes because there wasn’t a major plot point you know? (and she’s not important) There was no lingering scene on it with sad music. In when stolas got hurt it was this big thing and for him to just be like fine an episode later is like what? How are you going to have this big emotional climax with no emotional orgasm (sorry) afterwards. And like no I'm not letting this go what the heck? You had the whole fandom screeching about Blizto going to sloth just to do nothing with it and put a twist about Barbie and then also have stolas be perfectly fine and dandy the next episode afterwards. Are there no stakes in this show? Like I get that Helluva Boss wasn’t planned in the beginning but like come on... When Viv approves of the episodes does she look back at the other episodes? Is she even there? Is she ok? Is she and everyone else seeing a bigger picture that I'm not? Has she sat down and watched Helluva Boss from the very beginning and watched them from episode one to now? I mean really not just a once over to send it off to youtube I mean really took a good and hard look at the episodes? The way they mix episodic, and story is really messing with me I'm going to go back and watch all the episodes from the beginning just to make sure it’s not me.

I like how I said in my tangent about Hell fire (shameless plug part 2) I said I liked the new episode over all give or take some extremally small nitpicks yet here I am complaining :) guess I'm a liar   

soo yeah, I really don’t think they're going kill off their golden child, their best boy, their little botanist boo, their dopamine deficient dandy, their booboo bear, their uwu baby boi, their uke wukey cinnamon roll, their twinky little baby owl, their Boo thang, their stary eyed savant, their sad beige gay, their smoopy woopy do, their snoogum-boogums, their skidamarink a dink a dink skidamarink a doo, their-  

ok 

I'm done  

I'm so sorry   

#helluva boss #helluva boss stolas #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critical

[sailoryooons]

Bite Me, Jeon | JJK | (m)

☾ Pairing: vampire/ college student! Jungkook x college student! female reader

☾ Summary: Somehow you convince Jeon Jungkook to look into theories of vampirism for a research paper. What Jungkook doesn’t expect, is for vampirism to become a very real and very personal problem for him.

☾ Word Count: 19,376

☾ Genre: Friends to lovers, supernatural, a hint of angst

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Some angst, Taehyung is kinda an ass, blood play (Jungkook is a vampire, guys), ridiculous science and historical accounts that I MADE UP (I am not a scientist!!!), mentions of diseases, explicit language, verbal threats, turning someone into a vampire against their will, depictions of blood, biting, conspiracy theories, recreational drinking, mentions of recreational drug use in the past (briefly), a little bit of pining, sexually explicit content including: oral (f. and m. receiving, m. briefly receives) spitting, blood play and biting, spitting, sub-space themes post orgasm, fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex (pls practice safe sex guys). I think I got everything - pls tell me if I missed something.

☾ Published: May 7, 2022

☾ A/N: HAPPY HALFWAY TO HALLOWEEN EVERYONE AKA HALFWAY TO MY FAVORITE DAY OF THE YEAR. It's here! This took me absolutely forever to write because I wrote it in so many pieces. It is WAY longer than I anticipated, but as I've always said: I find it nearly impossible to write PWP because I live for plot and world building. This is the beloved sibling to Don't Read Dead Languages, the other installment of my Halfway to Halloween celly (est. post date is tomorrow) And yes - I did create characters in here with the intention of doing their stories for Halloween this year :) Please enjoy.Please keep in mind that I am not a scientist and a historian and I took A LOT of liberties with mythology and historical accounts to make my own plot. While I mention real diseases and historical figures, I quite literally made this up. It's not accurate. Pls don't come for my scientist brain because it doesn't exist.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask |

The lights in your corner of the library are dim and flickering. The air is cold and damp- though that is common for the old part of the library where your group huddles. As the least favorite academic club in your school’s college of history and humanities, the table assignments in the warmer and brighter side of the library are rarely ever given to you.

The creepy table for the creeps, the student-run desk attendants usually murmur when you arrive first to check in for your allotted study time. 

You’ve requested the higher tech rooms over fifty times, but it’s the same response every time: Are you even a real academic club? Leave the digital screens and resources to the STEM majors. 

So Old Stacks it was. It had earned that name when the library was extended to above ground with three more floors. The subterranean parts were now reserved for the original study rooms and table areas that had gone years without updating. Most of the shelving is in disarray, containing old volumes of books no longer referenced. 

Most people dread the Old Stacks. You don’t mind them. There is a comfort in knowing you will be left alone among the silence and the flickering lights. Plus, you know how to accommodate for its quirks now. You always pack sweaters, always bring snacks since the vending machines are a mile away, and you bring a portable desk light. 

Making things work is mostly what your group does. Well- making things real is the focus. 

Sure, your Science and History of the Supernatural club was originally been created as an ode to the long-running television show Supernatural, but it has since developed into something legit, with academics studying the mysteries of the world and working to apply levels of historical research and scientific methods to prove and disprove a number of creatures, stories and legends. 

It's nerd shit, as Jungkook calls it. You don’t even want to get into the argument of what you define as a nerd with him. He has enough anime posters on his apartment walls and spends every cent he earns streaming toward his ridiculously flashy gaming setup. 

Nerd shit. 

Despite him making fun of your group, Jungkook sometimes comes to meetings. Even if it’s because you needed a sixth person to be considered a legitimate academic club. Even if it it’s because you offered to do his laundry every Saturday for a single semester as a bribe to keep the club going. 

Pulling your cardigan closer, you scroll through your tablet with the proposal you carefully put together for review. It’s for your final research paper in your folklore class- an elective you didn’t need to graduate, but an important elective toward your desired dream job of working for a private curation company in charge of recovering, investigating and selling ancient artifacts. Kim Namjoon, a professor who participated in the very group you now led, had given you some tips on what you needed to apply to the prestigious position. 

The subject of your final project is courageous. It leans heavily on a lot of pseudoscience and genuine historical events and documents. You know it doesn’t necessarily matter if the experiment itself yields a factual result. You’re not a scientist, but even a negative result is something worth noting in your paper. 

Jungkook is the first to arrive at the library. He’s got a paper bag shoved under his arms, the first signs of grease ruining the paper on the edges. You can smell the fries immediately, groaning as he sets up next to you with an evil grin. 

“Got your favorite,” he announces in a sing-song voice. 

You hate the way he spoils you with food. Jungkook’s habits at the gym and generally maintaining a healthy lifestyle help him to look… well perfect. Small waist, broad shoulders and thick biceps with a heartbreaking face made to love. 

Not thinking about how lovely his face was had become a favorite pastime of yours. 

“You’re going to make me gain weight,” you growl, snatching the back from him to find seasoned fries inside. You indulge, humming as you bite into the greasy goodness. “This isn’t fair, Jeon.”

“Who cares if you do?” Jungkook kicks his feet up on the table, ignoring you as you try to shove them off. Even if you’re in the worst part of the Old Stacks, you feel the urge to be respectful. “You’re pretty regardless, Indy.”

You smirk at the nickname. He was constantly calling you Indiana Jones and Indy for short. You wished you were as cool, but you’ll never tell him that. “Tell that to my long line of non-existent suitors. And get your feet off the table.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes but moves his feet, much to your pleasure.

Your club members file in one at a time, a mix of science majors and history majors. Jungkook is the only one out of his depth, but he usually enjoys the meetings. He doesn’t always say so, but you find open articles on his computer when he thinks you’re not looking about banshees and werewolves on occasion.

Hoseok opens a bag of chips, his notebooks perfectly placed as he leans on his elbows eagerly. “You’re running your folklore project by us today, right? I’ve been dying to see what you came up with.”  

“Why?” Mari asks, flipping through a textbook with an unimpressed pout. You try to fight the urge to lean over and bop her directly on the fucking head. “It’s just another project.”

Mari will never outright say she doesn’t like you. In general, you suppose she’s nice enough. She’s let you borrow a resource or two and she’ll peer review your work if Hoseok or Elena aren’t available. But she always makes sure to downplay your successes, and there is an undercurrent of something aggressive whenever she directs comments and questions your way.

Jungkook hates Mari. You notice the way he glares over the top of his computer screen at her now, his pout tilting downward and his eyes boring holes in her forehead. She doesn’t seem to notice. Even if she did, any reaction she can draw out of Jungkook is one she enjoys. From the moment Jungkook joined your club to save it, she has never passed a moment to thank him again and again for joining.

It's a topic that is hotly debated between you and Jungkook. He doesn’t think anyone is interested in him. He knows he’s a nerd by definition. He speaks in anime jokes and he doesn’t come out of his room on the weekends when he’s deep into and Overwatch binge. And no matter how many times you tell him, Jungkook has no idea how cute he is.

“Because,” Hoseok shoots back pointedly at Mari. “She’s also submitting this paper to Namjoon who is passing it to his boss at his very secretive artifact agency. It’s important.”

“Namjoon,” Mari sighs, putting her hand over her heart. “We will never have a president of this club like him.”

Jungkook looks at her pointedly. “I think ours is just fine.”

You shoot him a grateful look, ignoring the way Mari scrambles to correct herself and assure you that it wasn’t meant to be offensive. Especially when it definitely was.

Jimin is the last to show up, murmuring apologies as he tosses his things on the table. He looks effortlessly beautiful as always, pink hair styled back and subtle designer clothing hanging perfectly on his frame. Jimin is the type of beautiful that you envy- not because he gets attention, but because he is otherworldly.

“Project time, project time!” Jimin chants, clapping his hands together. He’s an English Literature major with a keen interest in folklore and mythology. You were pretty sure he kept a copy of The Iliad on him at all times. “I’m so excited to see what you’ve got.”

The group settles in and turn their eyes to you as you flip your iPad around. The topic is incredibly out there- even for you- and your palms get sweaty as you sift through your notes and cited sources regarding the topic.

“Okay don’t laugh,” you say seriously, levelling all of them with a glare. “And remember that the actual result doesn’t matter as much as the research and documentation process.”

“Spit it out,” Jimin whines.

So you do.

Flipping through the iPad, you launch into an incredibly lengthy and thorough relationship between the history of the legend of vampires through various time periods, starting the research specifically with the rumors and lack of historical data surrounding Vlad the Impaler, ruler of Walachia, Romania.

At first, the group seems unsure. You can sense their uneasiness on the topic, but you push forward, pulling out historical accounts and journals during the Middle Ages during years when the plague burned through European countries, cross-referencing it with the uptick in supposed vampire sightings and rumors.

The interesting part of your research surrounds a disease known as Porphyria, which was detected in the middle ages during a spike in the plague. There were several variations of the disease, resulting in skin blistering when exposed to sunlight.

“Okay so you get a sunburn with pory-whatever?” Jimin asks.

You glare. “Your skin literally blisters, but let me finish. They did studies on people who got the disease and discovered that ingesting blood relieved most if not all of the symptoms related to those who had it. Furthermore, people who ingested the blood of those with porphyria immediately displayed symptoms.”

“What does this have to do with vampirism?” Mari sighed.

“Though it’s implied in most of these medical documents that it can be passed through family members, look at this specifically family tree I pulled with one of the first patients who underwent testing.”

Jungkook took the sheet of paper from you, pouting his lip and furrowing his brow as he read. You chewed nervously on the inside of your cheek as he scanned the tree and tilted his head. “Wilhelmina Dracia- an ancestor of Vlad the Impaler.”

“Exactly, Jeon!” you announce. “So it got me thinking. There were other undocumented diseases during the plague. Even now, there were small towns marked as killed by the plague but they had no evidence that they actually suffered deaths from the plague. Do you know what the neighboring towns were suspected to have?”

“Porphyria?” Jungkook asked, glancing upward. “Do you think porphyria is vampirism?”

“I think it’s a strain of vampirism.”

“Just a strain?” Hoseok asks, taking one of the papers from your notes. You’re thrilled they’re asking questions and hand him two other family trees. “Wait- I though Anne Rice’s novel was total fiction? Lestat was a real person?”

“I think he was based on a real person. Loren de Lion was a real person born in a farming village outside of Paris.” You tap the top of his family tree. “What name do you see there?”

“Mihai Dracal.” Hoseok holds out his hand to Jungkook for Wilhelmina’s family tree and looks back and forth between them. “No way. They share an ancestor. So why isn’t Loren on this family tree?”

“He produced no heirs. This is where I began wondering about strains. Look at these journal entries from Loren de Lion in Paris and then compare it to these entries by Laure de Lions in New Orleans during the 1900s.”

“I remember this,” Hoseok reads from the newer entry. “It is all so familiar. I fear I am not alone in my dear city of New Orleans. I must flee, for there is no stronger breed of sickness than jiangshi. I hope to withstand this breed, but I must flee the city.”

“Breed of sickness?” It’s Mari who asks the question much to your surprise. And sort of pleasure. “Who calls sickness a breed.”

“Right?”

“Jiangshi?” Jungkook asks. “That’s an ancient story of creatures sucking the qi out of humans. It’s popular in Korean Dramas.”

Mari gestures to another family tree sitting on top of academic papers. You hand them over to her with a smirk. She’s so focused on scanning the family tree that she doesn’t notice. “This family- you associated them with Jiangshi?”

“Yes. In fact, they have a son who recently graduated from here. He owns a popular night club in the next city over.”

“Wait…” Jimin mutters, looking up Kim Taehyung on his phone. His eyes go round and he looks up at you. “You mean he owns Nightshade? That club is not only ridiculously exclusive and membership only, but last year there was a massive story on them. One of their members was arrested for aggravated assault on his boyfriend and he claimed that he was driven to insanity by the occult practices at the club.”

You lift up the article in question. “They were going to go to trial any everything. But the Kim family is stupid rich they’re represented by Min Associates.”

“Seriously? I’ve heard that Min Associates have the best lawyers in the world. You could be caught red-handed guilty and get away with it if they’re on the case.” Mari asks, snatching the article from Jimin. “I’ve heard their son is called the Demon in the court room. No one can beat him.”

You shrug. “My point is, this guy? He was willing to talk until he wasn’t. He was sentenced to a few years and let out on good behavior. No one has heard from him since.”

“So what’s your plan?” Jungkook asks, brows furrowed as he regards you. “Please don’t tell me you plan on getting involved with Nightshade and trying to become a member to see what’s going on. Come on, Indy.”

“Jimin?” You ask and he looks up at you. “Your friend Jin is in the entertainment sector, isn’t he?”

Jimin glares. You give him a soft pout and round eyes, earning a sigh and a roll of his eyes. “I’ll see what I can do.”

-

A week after you discuss your project with your peers, Jungkook shows up at your apartment with a box full of pizza, your favorite flavor of wings, and soda. You give him a narrowed look, letting him in nonetheless as the smell of grease makes your mouth water.

Though you live alone, Jungkook has spent most of his time at your small apartment two blocks away from school to be considered a roommate.  

“To what do I owe being spoiled?” You ask skeptically as Jungkook places the items on your kitchen counter. He moves confidently, taking out plates and setting them down before grabbing cups for your drinks. It’s entirely domestic and you chew your lip watching him. “That’s a lot of wings.”

“Can’t I just want to come watch movies with my best friend?”

“Yes, but it’s Friday. And on Fridays you usually do your Mario Party stream with viewers.”

“You know my schedule?” His cheeks are tinted pink when he asks, smiling at the ground as he places food on the plates. You don’t answer- of course you know his schedule- and take the plate offered to you. “I just wanted to hangout.”

“Sus.”

Jungkook takes a bite of his pizza, chewing happily as he levels you with a look. “Maybe I want to try and talk you out of your project.” You groan and he gestures to the couch. “Come on, we don’t have to fight while we eat.”

“So we’re going to fight?”

He gives a small smirk. “Maybe. I don’t know. Not during pizza and maybe an episode of One Piece?”

You hum in doubt but join him on the couch, pulling up the extended-top of the coffee table to set your food on top. You both cross your feet and settle in as Jungkook navigates the streaming service easily, picking up where you left off.

It’s hard to remember when exactly you let him talk you into watching the entire anime series, but it seems never ending. Jungkook won’t let you watch episodes without him, but he’s good about keeping a watch-schedule. And you have to admit- you like the show.

True to his word, Jungkook doesn’t bring up your project while you eat. It doesn’t stop you from stealing glances at him from the corner of your eye, trying to figure out what about it bothers him.

Clubbing isn’t really your thing. You gave it a good run when you were a freshman, slowing a bit when you were a sophomore. You didn’t mind drinking- wine was pretty much your preference- but being out around a bunch of sweaty strangers while someone always managed to have a bad night in your group was sort of exhausting.

So you limited your nights out to few and far between, but you always managed to have fun.

Perhaps it was the mysteriousness of the club that Jungkook didn’t like. After revealing your topic of interest, you had scoured the internet together to show him what you could find on Nightshade and its members. There was a website for the club, but the only information available was that it was an exclusive night club, and that memberships were limited. There was no information to apply. There was nothing but an address, a business license, and a small blurb on the owner- Kim Taehyung.

The infamous Kim Taehyung was easier to look up. He was a wealthy businessman in the next city over and was a wealthy contributor to your school. He participated in plenty of charity work- particularly organizations that specialized in raising money for rare blood diseases and their study.

That was interesting and on brand for your paper.

Every photo you saw of the man was nothing short of stunning. Dark hair that was usually styled back, eyes that could cut through a camera lens, and a face that belonged in high fashion. He was heartbreakingly beautiful. Even Jungkook had whistled and stared for a while.

Taehyung, as stunning as he was, had private social media and there wasn’t much beyond a few articles from business and entertainment magazines who had posted how elusive the club owner was. Even the articles containing information about the lawsuit against his club were difficult to find.

A few blogs were dedicated to uncovering and guessing what exactly went on at Nightshade, but they were thus far unsuccessful. You had no idea why you thought you were going to be the one to figure it out, but you were determined.

Jungkook leaned back and sighed. You chewed on your lip, watching as he leveled his gaze at you. You shifted nervously under his stare, unable to read his expression. Your heart and stomach fluttered- for reasons completely unrelated to knowing he was going to question you.

“I think you should turn in your paper without the investigation on the end,” Jungkook said finally. “You’re not an investigative journalist. Your class is about folklore and where it intersects with history, and I think you’ve done that. You’ve combined science, popular legends and historical documents and family trees to support your guess. I think that’s enough.”

“It isn’t,” you insist, shaking your head. “It’s a competitive job. Namjoon only started working there last year after his massive discovery in Egypt. This company- it’s the private sector, which means a lot of benefits and a lot of money. It would send me all over the world and give me assignments I’d never get at a museum or as a professor.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Your paper is good enough to get you in.”

“It’s not. What happens when they ask if I discovered what was at the club?”

“This is for a company that specializes in archaeology and history. They’re not Buzzfeed Unsolved.”

“It would demonstrate a lack of dedication for me not to do this.”

“How? You’re pulling from multiple types of sources and the Center for Disease Control for crying out loud! What about this fucking club is that important to a historical paper?”

“I need to know if I’m right!”

You shout it at Jungkook, making him flinch. You close your eyes and heave a sigh, running a hand over your face. You soften as you murmur, “What is the point of the paper if there isn’t an answer?”

“So that’s what it’s about. Proving you’re right. And if you’re wrong?” You shrug. “At the end of the day, this is folklore. You applied science and history, but… vampires, Indy?”

A sour feeling enters your stomach. You stand up and begin cleaning and Jungkook groans, knowing he’s upset you. You don’t care if he knows. You stomp to the kitchen, chucking the crumbs into the trash and shoving dishes into the sink. You’re cleaning and refusing to look at him as he calls your name from the couch.

You know the idea of vampires is… ridiculous. In reality, you know that your little club is laughed at. Ridiculed. No one takes is seriously. They won’t even let you rent a room in the library proper.

Your throat tightens as you fight the urge to cry. You don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook, especially over something so stupid. But being right is more than just… having put together a convoluted puzzle piece. It means your worth of a prestigious job and it means… well it means the museums you already applied to and failed to get in were wrong about you.

“Talk to me.” You flinch, not realizing Jungkook moved to the kitchen. He’s standing right behind you when you glance over your shoulder. You turn away and rub your face quickly on your shoulder, trying to hide that a tear escapes. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m not crying, Jeon.”

You hear him laugh. “Okay, well I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

When you don’t answer, trying to stop the burn in your eyes and the weight of the rejections, Jungkook steps forward and wraps his arms around you, squeezeing You place your hands on his arms and squeeze back, knowing he didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.

“I’m sorry, Indy,” he whispers, his voice sincere. “I just care about you and even if we don’t find vampires, something about this place and Kim Taehyung gives me the creeps.”

“We?” You sniff, laughing slightly.

“Of course. You didn’t think you were going alone, did you?” He squeezes and places his chin on your shoulder. “Indiana Jones always had a sidekick. Sidekick Jeon Jungkook reporting for duty.”

A few minutes pass in the kitchen with Jungkook just holding you. And you let him. He’s warm and he smells floral, making you smile as he sways you back and forth a bit. You melt into him. You want to stay like that far more than you should.

Just when your nervous it’s going to get awkward, you murmur, “I didn’t get the apprenticeship at The Metropolitan or Louvre. They said that I didn’t stand out enough.”

“Oh, Indy…”

“And I don’t blame them. My projects and papers have been basic. Organized. Perfectly executed but… there is nothing special about them. Nothing special about me.”

“That isn’t true at all.”

The vehemence he states this leaves no room for argument, drawing a smile from you. He settles back on your shoulder as you murmur, “I just… want to do something different. Step out of my comfort zone, you know? I just want to be special.”

“You are to me, if that counts.”

Fuck. It counts so much more than Jungkook realizes. Every time he shows up to a club that he doesn’t have to be a part of, every time he brings you pizza, or lets you come watch him stream, or he talks you through an anime you don’t quite understand- you do feel special with Jungkook. Maybe not in the way you want most, but in a way that counts.

Jungkook sighs, pulling you from your thoughts. “Jimin said Jin can get you in, but there’s a shit ton of applications and documentation we have to do.”

You spin around. He drops his embrace, chewing the inside of his cheek as he looks down at you. Your heart skips as you grab his arms, nails digging in. “Seriously? Just like that?”

He laughs without humor. “Jin said that he can submit an application on our behalf. Not that it would get accepted and Indy… it’s pretty intense. We have to have background checks, blood tests-“

“Blood tests?”

He grimaces. “I knew you’d fixate on that.”

You ignore him. “This is perfect. It just lends itself to my paper. Who needs a blood test to get into a nightclub? There has to be something they’re looking for- maybe ensuring there’s no disease or latent vampire genes? This is great! Jungkook this is great.”

He winces but mutters, “Yeah. I guess.”

-

Jungkook exaggerates about a lot of things. For example, there was one time during Halloween where he swore that he was so drunk that he was going to die. Instead, he vomited in your Luna backpack two blocks away from your apartment, and then cried because you wouldn’t get him tacos after.

Or there was the time around Christmas where the two of you had edibles at a party, and Jungkook fucking swore he saw Santa Claus and his reindeer. You had a pretty difficult time explaining whilst high out of your mind that it was an airplane, Jungkook. The things that fly in the sky.

And of course, every world-ending time he lost a match or had a bad stream. Those were the days that the sky was falling and he was never going to recover from this financially- and he would send you the same Tiger King meme over and over again.

Those were all great examples of his usual reaction to minor things.

Jungkook was not exaggerating about the application requirements to potentially become a member at Nightshade.

While they did not require any up-front cost to the application, there was cost implied by the amount of blood work you had to get done- and sign a twelve-page legal agreement that you were consenting to provide medical history and knowledge.

Additionally, you were expected to provide STD results, which led you down a rabbit hole of wondering if Nightshade was a sex club- which, was currently in the lead for the most popular theory of what went on behind its closed doors.

And when the formal invitation and approval arrived, there was a very strict list of attire that required you to go beyond the realms of your closet.

Mari of all people was assisting you in the attire part. You generalyl dressed pretty simple. Heels weren’t a necessity when you weren’t working at a fancy museum just yet, and you never had formal events to attend since Jimin dropped out of his fraternity, calling them boring.

“I think the velvet is the way to go,” Mari says appreciatively, tapping her chin. “You have great legs, may as well show them off. And the red doesn’t totally wash you out like the green did.”

You struggle to take the compliment and look at the dress in the mirror. It’s skin tight and leaves little to the imagination, the hemline coming higher up on your thigh than you’re used to. The off the shoulders are a smooth fit, but the neckline dips dangerously to the top of your breasts.

It’s far more daring than anything you’ve worn before, but the entire night is supposed to be daring.

The plan is simple and stupid. Get inside the club, observe what’s going on, and report if there’s anything vampy. According to the nondisclosure and legal agreements you had to sign and get notarized after approval, there’s a probationary period until your inducted as a full-time member. You skipped over the levels of sponsorships, not intending on becoming a steady member of Kim Taehyung’s possible sex club.

A single night of investigative work. That’s what you’ve promised Jungkook, who is still set on going with you. He even booked a night in a hotel room in the next city over so that you don’t have to worry about rushing there and back.

You try not to think about sharing a hotel room with him alone. Because while you’ve done that in the past, it’s different now. You feel different these days.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn to Mari. She’s been more interested in you as a person since presenting the paper. Though she hasn’t admitted to it, you have a sneaking suspicion she was impressed and has decided to give you a chance at being an acquaintance.

Even if she is still giving less than ideal compliments.

“You don’t think the crimson is cliché?” you ask, brushing the soft, velvet material. “I feel vampy in it.”

“You look hot.” She shrugs. “Well, if you don’t get a vampire to go all ‘I vant to suck your blood,’ you’re probably going to get laid. If not by Jungkook, maybe by some masked stranger at the sex club.”

“It’s not a sex club.” She gives you a look and you grimace. “Okay, it might be a sex club. And sex with Jungkook are you drunk? We’re best friends, Mari.”

“Yeah,” she mutters as you walk into the changing room, heart set on the dress. “Best friends who need to fuck.”

“I heard that!”

-

The red neon above the door taunts you as you walk down the sidewalk. On either side of the tinted, glass door is a security member. The one to the right of the door holds his hand out for your invitation. You hand yours over, trying to keep your hand from shaking with nervousness and excitement. Jungkook does the same, standing close behind you as they open the door to a dark hallway. 

Scarlet, crushed velvet makes up the interior of the hallway. The lights above are dimly lit chandeliers, the soft gold glow barely enough to cast light down the entire length of the hall. The line to get into the actual club starts here, hidden away from the eyes of the outside world. You realize it’s to keep member identities hidden. 

Jungkook is still close behind you, his chest almost against your back. You join the line of finely dressed patrons, sending a silent thank you to Mari for her making you choose the red dress and pair it with the sky-high heels. Jungkook sticks out in his leather jacket and ripped black pants and yet somehow when you turn to look at him, he looks right- though you’re not entirely sure about dress code.

Shadows fall over half of his face in the hall. You find yourself staring at him over your shoulder as his dark eyes scan the line, mouth fixed in what you label as his serious expression.

A lock of dark hair falls into his eyes. Instead of looking disheveled, he looks beautiful, an angel of shadow. You want to run your fingers along the recently shaved undercut. His hair was still long, but the sides were cropped short, making his choice of slick-backed hair even better.

Jungkook’s eyes drop down to you and his features smooth out into softness. “What?”

“You look so serious,” you opt to say. It would be weird if you told him you were staring at how beautiful he was. “You didn’t have to come.”

“Of course I did,” he answers, frowning. “Who else is going to protect my girl?” 

The way he says it is so casual. It means nothing to him and everything to you. You swallow the lump in your throat and nod, instead turning your attention to the pictures on the wall. Your eyes nearly fall out of your head when you realize the black-and-white photos are people caught in different throes and moments of pleasure.

You divert your eyes to instead look at the people in line.

It’s a wide variety of people, though one thing is the same: everyone has an invitation, the matte black of their cards absorbing the light in the hall. The couple in front of you is murmuring quietly to themselves. The woman is dressed in a floor-length, emerald dress made from silk, her hair twisted up in an elegant bun. Her earrings catch the light, drawing attention to her slender neck. 

Glancing down at yourself, you don’t feel nearly as well-dressed. The velvet dress clings to you like a second skin, the hemline dangerously short for you. It’s certainly a daring outfit, but with just a simple gold necklace around your neck with your birthstone- a gift from Jungkook- you start to feel out of place. 

As though he senses your uneasiness, Jungkook bends down and murmurs, “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just wish I looked a little nicer.”

The line moves forward. You’re three away from the door, heart rate kicking up. You can just barely hear the vibration of the music, though you cannot tell where it’s coming from. 

“What do you mean?” you hear the frown in Jungkook’s voice. You gesture to the woman in front of you and he scoffs. “I think you look absolutely beautiful. Hey- look at me.”

Heart skipping, you turn around and look at him. Jungkook brushes a loose strand of hair back into your French twist, eyes searching. He’s so painfully beautiful that you look at him, unblinking. “You’re always breathtaking,” Jungkook murmurs, smiling softly. “But tonight? You are devastating.” 

Jungkook has no idea the way his words affect you. Suddenly you’ve forgotten about the line and the club. It’s just you and Jungkook in a softly-lit space, and he’s watching you with those eyes and his soft smile. The one reserved only for you.

The moment breaks into pieces when the security guard asks you to move forward. In a daze, you hand him your invitation, your expensive medical results, legal forms, and two forms of ID. He runs the IDs through a scanner and thoroughly looks over the paperwork before asking you to hold out your wrist. He places a delicate, gold bracelet around your wrist with a red gemstone charm. 

“Welcome to Nightshade, Miss L/N.”

You step forward and watch as he repeats the process for Jungkook. Instead of a bracelet, he gives Jungkook a more visible lapel with the same stone. “Welcome to Nightshade, Mr. Jeon. Please ensure that your bracelet and brooch are displayed at all times. If you are warned more than once that it is not visible, you will be escorted out and your probation period will be revoked. You will wear this entry level color until a sponsor elevates your membership.” 

“Oh,” you breathe out. “Okay.”

“Sponsors are the members inside wearing mother of pearl broaches and bracelets, and are the only members who may invite you to a private room tonight. If any full-time member wearing emerald or sapphire invite you to a private room, please report them to any staff member immediately. Enjoy your night.”

The conversation is done and the line is pushing you through the curtained doorway. The stairs lead down down down. You look at Jungkook, unsure what you’ve gotten yourself into. He places his hand on your shoulder and says, “We can leave- that’s totally okay.”

“No,” you protest. “Let’s do this.” 

“Even if it’s a sex club?”

You shoot him a look as you begin a careful descent down the stairs. The further you go, the more you can feel the music humming through the ground to your ribcage. “Even if it’s a sex club.”

When another security guard opens the door to the main club, you think that maybe you’re not far off your guess. Music pulses from the middle of the dance floor where bodies twist in a writhing mass. There’s a DJ booth situated above the crowd on a catwalk, lights coalescing on the dance floor in colors you’ve never seen. 

Jungkook is attached to you as you push into the club. The air is cooler than you anticipated, a shiver working up your spine. The bar is near the door, long and carved from dark marble. Red lights are fixed beneath the bar counter, making it look as though the bartenders are gliding through a sea of red. 

A set of stairs leads upstairs to a landing where you can see private booths roped off with velvet markers. A security member stands at the foot of the stairs, letting people pass through after they display their jewelry. Some booths are curtained off while others have people lounging openly, watching the people below. 

You have no idea where to start. Jungkook nudges you on your lower back, starling you. He gives you an encouraging grin and nods toward the bar. “Let’s get drinks.”

With a nod, you let Jungkook lead the way. You’re too nervous to feel anything besides light panic when he wraps his fingers around yours, tugging you along. Your other hand clutches his elbow, securing yourself to his side as you move through the crowd. No one shoves and steps on you. Everyone is polite, parting as you navigate toward the bar. 

You’re almost dizzy with the dark space and flashing lights when a bartender appears in front of you immediately. He’s beautiful, blond hair slick back and uncanny amber eyes flicking between you two, smiling as he looks at the stones on your jewelry and shouts over the music, “Welcome first timers. You drink for free tonight, but please ensure you drink responsibly. What can I get you?” 

“An old fashioned for me,” Jungkook answers loudly. He pulls you in closer, placing you next to him with his hand appropriately placed on your back. “A vodka soda for her, please.” 

The bartender flashes a smile. “Coming right up, pretties.” 

Jungkook leans a single elbow on the bar and gazes out at the crowd. Colors splash across his golden skin, turning him red then blue then green. The music is loud, filled with bass and following a techno sound. You nod your head, looking around those at the bar. 

You don’t really know what to look for other than the cliche: bite marks on necks, hickies that look suspicious, patrons with fangs. There’s plenty of mirrors behind the bar, reflecting the bottles and club-goers back to you. Everyone appears in the mirror- no weird missing reflection. 

Everyone looks ordinary, for the most part. There are a few men and women who look so beautiful it’s painful to look at, but there’s nothing about them that screams vampire. There’s no pale, smooth skin or burning red eyes. There’s nothing that seems… supernatural at all. 

The bartender appears again with your drinks. Jungkook hands over money to tip him, but the bartender waves it off. “No tipping here. We’re paid handsomely. Enjoy your evening. My name is Emil if you need anything.” 

Emil flashes a smile. There are no fangs, but there is something about the way he glances between the two of you that sends a cool tingle down your spine. He moves away quickly, taking another order. You stare at him a second longer before you take the cold glass from the paper coaster. 

“Something about him seems… off,” you mention to Jungkook. 

Jungkook nods. “He’s very perfect looking.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Jungkook shrugs. “This feels surprisingly ordinary.”

“Come on,” Jungkook murmurs, sipping his drink and gesturing to the edge of the dancefloor. A dark alcove with a soft, blue neon sign that said private glowed next to where he was pointing. “We can observe near there.” 

It feels as if the dark hall leading to private rooms goes on forever. You glance down at it, hypnotized by the way the space seems void of light and life. You and Jungkook sip your drinks, swaying to the music lightly. You're surprised at how strong the drink is, feeling light-headed by the time you’re halfway done. 

A woman comes up and asks Jungkook to dance, glancing at you from the side of her eyes. He politely declines and she pouts before she glances at you and slinks away again. It’s hard not to smile at Jungkook as he turns his focus away from her immediately, dark eyes still searching the crowd. 

Instead of observing for your own project, you keep watching him instead. Another woman comes up to spark conversation with him- she includes you this time, welcoming you to your first night there. She asks if you need any help and you fight the urge to ask her what it’s all about, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself. 

The woman wears a green jewel- so she is some sort of level higher than you. Perhaps she has a sponsor. She eventually asks Jungkook to join her for a drink and he politely declines again. She has the same reaction as the first, pouting lightly as she vanishes.

You can’t help but get a sick feeling in your stomach. You must be making a face, because Jungkook asks if you’re okay. “Let’s get a drink,” you respond. “I think I’m still nervous.”

And you are. But the inky feeling doesn’t go away when Jungkook is propositioned at the bar again- this time by a man. He’s beautiful with dark red hair and stunning green eyes. He wears a sapphire, glittering on an extravagant broach on the lapel of his suit. 

“You’re an exquisite pair,” the man calls, leaning further on the bar to address you. “You are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen- I could just eat you up.” 

Jungkook makes a face. The man notices and he smiles- his smile reminds you of the bartender and you prickle again, straightening. “Ah, you don’t share. What a shame. I love the dynamic you two have- the shadow to her light, the darkness to her innocence. Well, I am here most weekends if you ever change your mind and want to share.” He hands Jungkook a card. “Have a wonderful night.”

You don’t know if it’s the base or your heartbeat pounding anymore. The way the man implied Jungkook doesn’t share- share what? You? 

In a way, you are his to share. He has no idea how much you are his. The thought of him not knowing as he sips his drink makes you toss yours back. He raises his eyebrows as you order another one, making it a double. 

Jungkook came all the way here with you because he’s your friend. Your best friend. Because he never lets you suffer through things alone. And instead of doing what you’re supposed to for your project, you’re being painfully awkward and letting Jungkook’s many suitors make you jealous. 

Finishing your drink with a half-gag and a spinning head, you pull his hand. “Let’s dance.”

“We already did that.”

“No. Let’s dance.”

Jungkook doesn’t ask what you mean. He follows your lead, throwing back the whisky with a sour face. You drag him onto the dance floor. A buzz has settled into your veins and you pressed yourself between people, pulling Jungkook behind you. You’re no stranger to dancing with him, but the music is in your bloodstream, humming as you become alive.

You sway your hips, tilting your head back and closing your eyes as you let rhythm and instinct guide you. Jungkook is quick to follow. He molds himself against you, hands tracing your hips to settle on your waist. Electricity shoots through you and you almost stumble. His fingers are firm, gripping you and pressing you to him so that you can feel his chest against your back.

This is different. You don’t know why, but it is. You feel the artful movement of his hips, feel Jungkook’s break on the back of your neck and shoulder, the way his fingers pull at you, greedy. Your breath shudders out for you. You can smell his cologne- floral and soft on his skin. You don’t know if it’s the cocktails or Jungkook against you, but you’re drunk and dizzy with elation.

Pulling at your hips, Jungkook turns you around. You look up at him with half-lidded eyes. He guides your hands to loop around his neck and settles his own hands dangerously low. Jungkook has never had his hands on the top of your ass before, but they are now. His forehead is almost pressed against yours as he takes the lead, guiding your hips with his. 

Your thighs are burning but you don’t care. The project has long been forgotten as his breath turns into yours. You fixate on his eyes, lips slowly curling into a smile. He grins back at you, pulling you closer, slotting a leg between your thighs and oh. 

That is different. Jungkook’s jeans rub against your clothed core and you let out a sound that sounds like a moan. You snap your mouth shut, flushing from more than the heat on the dance floor. Jungkook’s grip on you tightens a fraction as he looks at you. And you know without a doubt that he heard it. That he knows the effect he has on you.

“What was that, baby?”

The name makes you flush. He’s never called you that before. Suddenly he seems closer than he was and the urge to close the distance between your mouths is clawing at you. You twist your fingers in his shirt, ready to crush your lips to his in a sudden bout of courage- a presence appears in your peripheral, something ominous and demanding, making you look.

Your mouth almost falls open- or maybe it does. Standing beside you is one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen, and you can’t help but fixate on the man in front of you. 

It finally dawns on you that this is what you picture when you hear about vampires. The man is tall with broad shoulders, his gold skin almost glowing beneath the dark collar of a button-up shirt. His hair is ebony, wavy strands falling into a pair of amber eyes that burn so brightly you feel as though you’ll disintegrate on the spot.

Looking at him scrambles your brain. Something in his gaze is pulling pulling pulling. You stare and stare. Something is screaming at you to look away but you’re fixated, the world falling away piece by piece until there is nothing but muted sound of the music and a faded canvas of bodies behind the man in front of you.

He smiles. You know that smile. It’s got the same edge to the bartender, the same sharpness as the man who gave Jungkook his card.

Jungkook. 

You blind and the spell fades a little as you turn to look at Jungkook. His hands have moved from your waist to over your shoulders, crossing in front of you and hugging you to him. He’s staring at the man, enchanted for a moment. Then he blinks and he’s frowning, muscles coiling against you. 

“I’m Taehyung,” the man introduces, tawny eyes flicking between the two of you. You can’t help but think he has the gaze of a tiger, hungry and feral. “Aren’t you two the most heavenly thing I’ve seen?”

Taehyung.

You realize it’s Kim Taehyung standing in front of you. The subject of your project and oh my god if you didn’t believe in your theory before, you do now. Kim Taehyung looks the epitome of supernatural beauty and graze, eyes flickering back to you as his rose red lips twitch in a smile. 

“Cat got your tongue, pretty girl?” Taehyung purrs to you. People have made room for him to stand unbothered, but their eyes shift to him like a magnet.

“You’re wearing diamond,” Jungkook notes, eyes fixated on the jewel settled in the hollow of Taehyung’s throat and the single glittering earring. Taehyung smiles at Jungkook, pleased. “You’ve got a keen eye. I am, in fact, wearing diamonds. I’m the only member you’ll find here who does, though. Unless Yoongi is around, of course.” 

The name Yoongi sounds vaguely familiar, but you can’t recall where you’ve heard of it. Taehyung doesn’t give you a chance to ask, gesturing toward the dark alcove where the private rooms are. Your heart thunders.

“Join me,” he says lightly. Something in his voice tells you it’s not a request, it's an order. His eyes drift to Jungkook, whose grip has tightened over you. “I play nice.”

“The bouncer said only people with mother of pearl are allowed to invite us to private rooms.”

“Good girl, you listened.” Taehyung seems genuinely pleased by this, but you squirm at the way his voice croons. “As your friend pointed out, I’m wearing diamonds. The rules don’t apply to me,” he winks. 

Though Jungkook lets go of his protective hug, he doesn’t let go of your hand. You cling to him a little unbalanced and drunk. He keeps a firm grip on you, looking down to make sure you’re okay. At least, you think that’s why he’s looking at you and you nod, following Taehyung who has appeared on the other side of the dancefloor. 

Weird. You don’t remember seeing him walk there. 

A shiver crawls up your spine as Taehyung steps into the pitch black of the hall. You pass through the threshold- your ears pop, making you wince. You open your mouth, stretching your jaw to adjust the pressure once again. 

The hall isn’t nearly as dark as you thought it was. The same velvet material lines the walls as the hall for the queue. There are no pictures, but metal sconces lighting the way with dull, gold light. Black doors with small plaques on them are lined on either side of you, varying from unoccupied to occupied. 

Taehyung moves smoothly through the hall, passing all of the doors. You can hear nothing from any of the doors or behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, the hallway is dark as ever and no sound from the club reaches you. 

“You won’t find what you’re looking for the way we came, Y/N.”

Your heart freezes when he says your name. You didn’t tell him your name. You turn to look at Taehyung. He’s standing at the end of the hallway in front of a large, wooden door. There is nothing that labels the status of the door’s occupants. You tighten your grip on Jungkook’s hand, suddenly hating yourself for coming here. To hell with your project, to hell with your theory. This was a terrible idea.

“Follow me,” Taehyung calls. He opens the door, walking into a dimly lit room. 

You glance at Jungkook. His gaze is darker than you remember and his face is taught. “You’re safe with me,” Jungkook murmurs. “He’s not going to hurt you. Plus, this seems a bit theatric.”

“He knows my name.”

“You had to provide them a name and a blood test,” Jungkook points out. “I’m sure he would know your social security number, if you asked.”

The thought is unsettling, but Jungkook’s assurance for your safety warms you. It’s not just the liquor you consumed heating you. It’s the way he takes the lead, gently pulling you down the hall to the room where Taehyung vanished. It’s the way he ducks his head in first before nodding that it’s okay for you to enter. 

It’s the way he called you baby right before Taehyung had interrupted whatever was happening on the dancefloor. 

A lounge is what waits beyond the door for you. You arch your brow at how ornate and intimate the setting is. The floor is dark wood to match the small bar built in the back of the room. It smells like cigar smoke and spice. A record player in the corner plays soft jazz, setting the mood to match the soft chaise lounges, crackling fireplace and glittering sconces. 

It looks like something out of an old 20s crawl space during prohibition. You can’t help but let go of Jungkook’s hand and wander over to a shelf with books and knick-knacks, hands hovering over signed cards from Louis Armstrong and a stunning portrait of Ella Fitzgerald with a personal message to Taehyung.

You turn to look at him. He’s leaning on the bar with a smirk, sipping on what appears to be whisky neat. 

Your heart begins to thunder as you trail away from the mementos of a time that Taehyung seems to be fond of. As though he was there. As though he is intimately familiar with it. Jungkook only has eyes for you as you near him, offering his hand silently. You take it on instinct, though you were never really hand holders before. 

“I’m a bit nostalgic,” Taehyung announces with a lofty sigh. He walks around behind the bar and tosses a mixing cup in the air before catching it. He starts to pull bottles from the shelves, glancing up at you with a distinct gleam in his eye. “I don’t keep much of my prized possessions here, but it does help me feel at home.”

“And where is home for you?” Your surprised you ask the question, voice far more confident than you feel.

Taehyung appears delighted as he makes a drink and gestures to Jungkook. “You were drinking an old fashioned, right? Sorry I didn’t use the smoker, I have a feeling you won’t really care.”

Jungkook doesn’t move. Taehyung arches a brow and produces another drink. “Vodka soda,” he calls to you, mouth lifting in a crooked grin. “I insist. Drink.”

There is no fighting his words. You find yourself moving toward the bar without remembering to make the decision. Jungkook is in tow, walking slower than you, as though he’s not as confident with his decision to approach.

The glass cools off your fingers as you lift it from the varnished top, hesitating while Taehyung looks at you through his bangs. You’re struck again by how intense his gaze is. He smiles slowly and something sparks inside of you- not the same way it does for Jungkook, but at a sudden wrongness.

You think it might be instinct, but you can’t put the drink down. You’re either unwilling or unable- you don’t know which.

Taehyung lifts his own drink and murmurs, “Salude,” before sipping his, amber eyes bouncing between you and Jungkook.

Both of you sip the drink- except you don’t just sip. You take a few gulps and set it back down, surprised at how much better his alcohol tastes than his bar.

“Why don’t you sit?” Taehyung gestures to the chase lounges. “You have questions, don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

He pouts as he rounds the corner of the bar, walking over to you. Jungkook steps in front of you and Taehyung gives him a single annoyed glance. That single glance is enough to make you petrified.

In a single flash of emotion, you see something else in Taehyung’s face. Something cold and ancient and absolutely terrifying. You’re locked into place as you blink at him, but he’s smiling as he pats Jungkook on the shoulder and moving to a chair of his own, plopping down.

“I admire how protective you are of your girl, Jungkook. It’s admirable, really.” Taehyung sips his drinks as you and Jungkook stand frozen at the bar. A vein throbs in Jungkook’s neck as he stares at Taehyung, working his jaw. “However, if I wanted her, you couldn’t stop me. Now sit.”

Again, the decision to sit down is not your own.

Jungkook almost sits you on top of him. You’re sitting so close that your thigh almost overlaps his, a hand going tightly around your waist to tether you to him. You haven’t forgotten the low sound of his voice when he called you baby and you certainly haven’t forgotten the way his thigh felt between your legs. 

You can barely concentrate on your fear with Jungkook’s fingers on your waist, burning through the fabric of your shirt like an exposed flame. You shiver. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything, his focus entirely on Taehyung. 

“You have questions, do you not?” Taehyung asks, kicking his feet up on the edge of his chair. He looks at you specifically, eyes dancing behind the sparkling rim of his glass. “I’m intrigued.” 

“You know us.”

“That’s not a question. And if it was, you’re wasting the time I’ve carved out for you.”

You fidget next to Jungkook, plucking at the rising hemline of your dress. You stare at Taehyung, watching as his eyes dip to your exposed thigh. You fight the urge to cover yourself- Jungkook splays a hand over your thigh, covering most of it. You want to sigh in relief and thank him, but instead your focus goes back to Taehyung. 

“Why did you carve out time to let me ask questions?” You ask. “You obviously know who I am and my intention of coming here. I’m not sure how you managed, but you did.”

“Good girl, asking better questions already. Let’s just say I was intrigued. Let’s just say when Seokjin gave me the tip that someone was looking into me, I did my homework.”

You grit your teeth. Jimin had asked Seokjin to get you an in- he wasn’t supposed to tell him what you were doing it for. You struggled with your momentary annoyance, realizing the danger that you were now in. You had come to Nightshade with the intention of breaking the NDA you signed and risking Taehyung’s clientele and business. 

That wasn’t nothing. And now he was watching you carefully as you struggled to come up with an answer. 

“Don’t be too hard on Jimin,” Taehyung purrs. “He didn’t tell Seokjin that you were doing research on vampires. Seokjin has… a sixth sense, if you will. He pulled the information from Jimin’s mind, just sitting there for the taking.” Taehyung leans forward, elbows on his knees as he cocks his head to the side. “Tell me about your research.”

Again, the urge to tell him doesn’t come from yourself. It comes from somewhere else, a strong sense of powerlessness along with it. 

So you tell him about your research. Every detail, starting with what turned you onto the subject and where you started. Jungkook’s pressure on your thigh increases as you speak, his eyes never leaving Taehyung for a moment. He’s so still that you almost forget he is there as you ramble, discussing Taehyung’s family tree and the journal entries that pointed you in the direction of what you believe is a third strain of vampirism. 

Taehyung is a good listener- or at least, he mimes listening well. He nods in all of the right places and hums when appropriate, even complimenting you throughout your explanation, which is the most unsettling. You hate how sincere and curious he seems. It’s almost as though he is fascinated at watching a child figure something out.

When you finish, Taehyung sits back, arm resting along the length of the couch. You notice the rings on his fingers. They look old. You can barely make out a signet ring and something that looks like a family crest.

Taehyung catches you looking and grins, flashing his hand at you. “You really are the cleverest little thing, aren’t you? You managed to put together a mostly accurate theory about strains of vampirism and you must realize by now what parts of your theories are correct.”

You lick your lips. Your mouth feels dry as you nod. “You must have arrived in New Orleans like the document suggests. You have…” you gesture around. “A lot of influence from that period and a love for the culture and music. You pushed out the vampires there.” 

Taehyung hums, setting his chin in his palm. “I did push them out. I don’t have any love for the strigoi. What you believe are strains aren’t strains at all- they’re breeds. But you had the right idea- congratulations.” 

“So… you’re a vampire?” you ask softly. Any excitement you have is gone. Taehyung looks lethal and you realize that if he doesn’t intend to let you walk out, there is nothing you can do.

You’re fucked. 

“For lack of a better term. Technically a jiangshi. I can walk in the sunlight, though it is a little irritating. I drink blood to survive. I don’t age. And I have a certain influence over people.”

“Compulsion,” Jungkook offers.

You're surprised he speaks. He’s been painfully silent the entire time. Taehyung looks just as surprised, a boxy smile spreading across his face. “Oh? You know a thing or two about it?”

Jungkook grimaces and gestures to you half-heartedly. “She likes watching vampire diaries.”

You feel heat flush your face and push onwards, “That’s why when you told us to drink, we couldn’t resist. Or when you told us to sit.” 

“That’s true. I don’t like forcing people to do things, but the two of you are incredibly stubborn. But come on, darling. Please ask me something interesting.”

“Why? You’re not going to let me report what I find here.”

“No, but consider that I’m having fun and I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about what I am for a very long time. Though this club was established for the vampires that are around to feed in privacy, most of the humans who consent to being here for long periods of time come back because of the euphoria and high they get from being fed on. While they’re somewhat aware of what’s happening, we compel them to forget most details.”

“That seems incredibly non-consensual.”

“Not at all- they’ve signed plenty of papers consenting to what happens here. We only make them for get the supernatural part- many of them know they’re sharing blood- but the exchange is remembered often in a sexual nature. The people who frequent here are one-hundred percent here of their own desire and volition.” 

“And you want to answer the questions I have because it’s entertaining to you. Not because of any desire to let me finish my project.”

His grin was feline. “That would be correct.”

You glare. “I have no more questions.” 

For a moment, Taehyung just stares at you, eyes sharp. The next second, he’s laughing boisterously, the sound filling the room. His hand goes to his abdomen, pressing against his crisp shirt as he continues to laugh. You stiffen beside Jungkook and dig your nails into the chaise, knowing that he’s laughing at you and not with you.

Temper flaring, you stand abruptly, Jungkook’s hand falling from your leg. The rejection from your favorite museums is still burning in your mind. You feel the same hot embarrassment that drove you to tears with Jungkook in your kitchen. 

Taehyung's voice is like thunder when he says, “Sit.” 

You immediately follow, gnashing your teeth as you try to fight his stupid compulsion. “Ask me the questions you had before coming here.” 

Your mouth works over the words. There is an ache in your jaw as you clench your teeth together, feeling a strain working its way up your throat. Taehyung smirks and murmurs, “You’ll kill yourself fighting compulsion. Please don’t make me use my leer.”

Though you have no idea what his leer is, you let out a strangled breath. “Where did vampires originate from?”

“Egypt. The daughter of the goddess Sekhmet was sent to our plane to slaughter the Egyptians for their constant disobedience and disrespect of Ra. She produced offspring while she ravaged Ancient Egypt. Sekhmet was imprisoned in the city of the dead- I believe your friend Namjoon is acutely familiar with her.” 

That takes you by surprise. What would… you gasp lightly. Namjoon had come home after a harrowing research trip in Egypt. He had promptly quit his job at the school and joined the private acquisition company that specialized in ancient artifacts and history. 

“Is Namjoon a vampire?” you blurt, unable to help the question.

“No. He got lucky that his little tomb raider friend was versed beyond normal means in the supernatural. I believe you’re familiar with her branch of the Illuminati’s recovery business.” 

“T-the acquisition place Namjoon works at is a part of the Illuminati?”

“We’re going off track,” Taehyung sighs breezily. “Please focus and go back to asking questions for your paper.” 

“You mean questions about you?” You scoff. “You’re painfully cliche.”

Jungkook brushes his fingers on your arm in warning and murmurs, “I got it.”

You’re unsure what he means but he sits forward, glare on his face. “How many breeds of vampires are there and what- in a summary, please- is the difference between them?”

“Oh?” Taehyung turns his attention to Jungkook. “You’re not a history major.”

“Her research is important to me and I know it inside and out. Answer the questions.”

“I come from an ancient line that can stretch our heritage back to pre-dynastic China. The Mongol Empire drove my kind throughout regions of Asia. I was born in what is now considered South Korea. The differences between vampiric creatures are typically abilities and background, nothing more. The family trees you’ve mentioned in your research are not family trees by blood, but by turning. We share names as a part of our heritage and power.” 

“What do you mean, abilities?” 

“Just like different snakes have different types of venom and skin, vampires have different attributes. I’m not dead, though that might be hard to believe. Immortality and being alive are not mutually exclusive.”

“How does one make vampires?”

“The surest way is by consuming the blood of one. Contrary to popular belief, you don’t need to die to turn. Vampire blood contains a virus-like component that your blood cells will attack once it enters the stream. The moment your blood cells attack the vampire-cells, they’re infected and replaced with the same genetic material that makes up vampiric plasma.” 

“I said simple,” Jungkook mutters. “So it’s a virus?”

“It works like a virus and it can spread through blood contamination, but it is a crude way to identify the gene. Think of it as genetic material.” 

“So the plague?” You ask.

“Not the cause of vampires, but rather- people shared blood hoping that it would give immortality and healing abilities. Hence the massive spread of disease. The vampires you’ve identified in the Dracul bloodline are associated with what you’ve called porphyria- the disease gave them more mobility to openly interact with people during the plague.” 

“Another breed?” 

“Yes, the Upir,” he sighs. “Similar to strigoi. They come from the same region and have the same sensitivity in sunlight. Their blood has a thermal reaction to UV rays, so while they won’t burst into flames, they do get a mean sunburn faster than most people. They also tend to have blood lust far more than I’ve experienced.”

“What’s roughly the size of the population of vampires?” 

For the first time that night, Taehyung shows genuine emotion. It’s brief, but you recognize pain flashing across his eyes, the twitch of his mouth toward a frown and the way his nose flares. You know the answer before he says it. 

“Not many. At our height, there were probably around ten different breeds. Now? There’s two. Jiangshi and the strigoi.” 

“Why?”

Taehyung gestured to the room around them. “There are almost no places in the world like this. What you see here is years of work and methodical planning to come up with a way for my people to feed safely. There is too much science and technology in the world for us to thrive without getting caught. And like I say- vampires aren’t born. They’re made.”

“Getting caught?” Jungkook asks, brows furrowing. “Are there like- hunters or something?”

Taehyung’s smile is strained. “There are those who know we exist, and who would prefer for us not to exist.” He claps his hands together, rubbing his palms together softly. You realize that the fireplace is dying and your glass has long been finished. “This has been nice. Thank you both for indulging in some discussion, it’s been so nice to talk freely with such curious minds. Perhaps we can do it again sometime.”

“Wait?” You ask, shooting to your feet. “You’re just letting us go?”

“Of course. I’ve collected my insurance. You’re not going to go running your mouth once your boyfriend turns.”

It’s not Taehyung calling Jungkook your boyfriend that makes your heart catch. In fact, you hardly gesture that. It’s the self-satisfied smirk on Taehyung’s rose-red lips as he stands languidly, lifting his glass filled with amber liquid toward Jungkook before he downs it, strolling to the bar.

Jungkook is fixed in his spot, face sheet-white and eyes round as he stares at Taehyung. His knuckles are white as he holds his glass. His hands are shaking- there’s nothing left in the glass, the old fashioned drained dry.

Slowly, Jungkook’s eyes dip down to the glass before they drag back up to look at you. You’re frozen in mute horror, mouth parting lightly as Taehyung’s words settled into place, locking onto your shoulders and pressing with more weight than you’ve ever felt.

“You’re lying,” you growl, spinning to face Taehyung. You can feel the tremor in your voice and your hands.

You never expected Taehyung to answer your questions so succinctly without something being in it for you. You wouldn’t have asked the questions at all, had he not compelled you to do so.

There’s no way someone as carefully planned as Taehyung turned Jungkook on a whim. Your brain begins firing synapses, putting together reasons that Taehyung wouldn’t turn Jungkook. His entire club is built on the foundation of secrecy and he said it himself- years of planning.

So why turn Jungkook?

Taehyung leans on his elbows against the bar lazily, looking like the cat who ate the canary. “I’m not.”

“What do you get out of turning him?” You demanded. “There’s nothing. You wouldn’t-“

“I get your vow of secrecy for starters. I won’t help him during his transition if you run your mouth. Additionally, you seem to be a prime candidate for the open position your friend Namjoon has created at the Illuminati.”

“You want access.”

He lifts a shoulder. “Maybe I do.”

“You’re a vampire,” you spit between your teeth. “Compel them.”

“They know all about me, I’m afraid. Despite Yoongi’s influence with them, the Iluminati don’t like me.” His smile is predatory. “They’re not particularly fond of my involvement in stealing one of their artifacts.”

Taehyung gestures to Jungkook and says, “I will happily protect the little fledging provided your word you talk to no one about this place and that you provide research when I call on you. Yoongi is not nearly as dedicated to my projects as I need him to be and his loyalty cannot be bought. Yours can.”

“Y/N,” Jungkook murmurs.

You’re not thinking. Nothing makes sense and nothing matters. You see red on the edge of your vision and you hardly register your arm moving as you throw your glass at Taehyung. It surprises the vampire, based on his wide eyes. But he moves quickly, a blur of movement as the glass shatters against bottles behind the bar.

A horrible scream rips out of you, obscenities new and old as you leap over the coffee table with more agility than you expect. Taehyung grins wider as you behind to throw whatever you can at him, screaming at him to undo what he’s done.

What he’s done to Jungkook. Not you.

Nothing has been done to you for your prying. For your need to come here. For dragging Jungkook along.

Something horrible and terrifying is working its way through you and you feel the tears in your eyes as your rage peters out with a choke.

Guilt crashes on you so succinctly that you collapse on the chair, face in your hands as your tears spill over, hot on your palms and salty on your lips. “Fuck,” you whisper. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Taehyung announces, vanishing from the room.

You lift your head to see Jungkook is still standing in his spot. “Jungkook,” you plead, though you don’t know what you’re pleading for exactly. “This is my fault. I will find a way to fix this, Jungkook I am so sorry. Fuck this is all my fault, please, I-“

“Y/n.”

“I am so fucking stupid. I should have never brought us here. You were right, this wasn’t worth being right and I am a selfish, prideful idiot who-“

“Y/N,” he says your name again, softly but with purpose. You look at him through tear-stained eyes. “Let’s just go home.”

“I…”

Jungkook softens. “We don’t even know if he’s telling the truth, Indy. I don’t feel any different. The drink didn’t taste weird. Come on.” He holds out a hand. You drift to him, fingers yearning for his as you stretch your hand and lace your fingers with his. He gives you a squeeze and a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Everything is going to be okay.”

-

Nothing is okay. A few days ago, you woke up to an empty hotel room in a city an hour away from home. You can’t remember falling asleep, spending the entire night stressing and looking for any signs of vampirism as the night stretched on, but Jungkook was fine. He was normal- albeit, nervous and tired.

Then the morning came. You had launched out of your bed to… nothing. Jungkook was nowhere to be found. His things were in his room, but his cell was gone and his clothes from the night before were folded on the dresser. You even went as far as to extending your stay another night, spending every moment calling and texting him.

That night, you had gone back to the club. Tear-stained and with bloodshot eyes, you marched up to the nondescript building, only to be turned away at the door. The bouncer wouldn’t answer your questions. Didn’t even blink when you gave him Taehyung’s name and threatened to go to the police.

He had simply said, “You should go to the police if you think your friend is missing. Have a good night.”

Every phone call, text and voicemail went unanswered into the late night. You don’t remember crying more than you had that entire day, worried to the point of making yourself physically ill, only finding comfort in the cool tile floor beneath your bruised knees and the cold touch of the toilet as you sagged against it.

You had to return home eventually. So you did. Dodging the text messages of your friends. Making excuses.

We found nothing you assured them with unsteady hands, sniffling in the dark of your room. We did get a little sick, though. Jungkook has a fever.

No we don’t need anything.

I’m just going to take that part out of my research.

No you can’t come over.

Yes you can send me the notes for class.

Sitting in the dark of your living room, the silence presses in. You look at your text thread with Jungkook. Everything is burned into your mind with startling permanence.

The internet is no longer comforting. You scour the internet and pour yourself over every article you can find. Your search history looks like you should check yourself into a mental ward. Signs of vampirism. How do you know if you’re a vampire? Cures to vampirism.

You revisit your research and begin a new project. You comb through the genetic findings and family trees, wondering if you missed something. Taehyung had said that vampirism was like a virus- plenty of viruses could be cured. So why not vampirism?

­Takeout cartons are piling on your counter and the sink smells something awful. You don’t take the time to clean- you have a single mission. Something stops you from calling the police- you know they won’t believe you and Taehyung’s threat… it holds sway over you.

Your searches and notes are littered- no, consumed with ways to kill a vampire.

It’s the thought of sticking a stake through Kim Taehyung that has you sitting in the living room in the dark, eyes burning. You scroll through the texts- you’ve sent over 100. Each one goes unanswered, but they’re delivered. Which counts for something, you think. It means Jungkook’s phone is on and even though he isn’t answering… he’s alive.

The thought that perhaps it’s about you occurs. You realize that maybe… maybe Jungkook doesn’t want to talk to you. Maybe this is real, and Taehyung did something horrible to him by turning him into a creature of legend and Jungkook rightfully blames you.

It’s fair. It’s what’s right.

You swallow past the lump in your throat but the tears break free anyway. You’re tired of crying but you can’t seem to find a way to stop. Jungkook is gone and you miss him.

The hole his lack of presence creates is pronounced and dangerous. For the last few years, the thought of you and Jungkook not being you and Jungkook had never occurred to you. You did everything together and nothing else… nothing else was like what you have.

What you had.

There are no updates on Jungkook’s streams. There are comments on social media and his YouTube page asking where he’s gone and why he isn’t streaming. You scour through them, hoping that maybe he’s logged in to look at comments or to tell people he’s taking a break.

But there’s nothing.

And it’s like Jungkook doesn’t exist anymore.

-

Something in your kitchen wakes you up. You’ve taken to not sleeping in your room- not a meaningful decision, but one driven by falling asleep on the couch crying or researching. Nights driven watching Jungkook’s favorite shows while staring at your phone.

Rubbing your eyes, you look around the room, eyes darting to the kitchen. At first, nothing looks different. The room is pitch black, your laptop dead with the cord unplugged. Someone in the parking lot drives by, lights flashing in your first-floor unit and-

A figure is standing in your kitchen. Your heart pitches to your stomach so violently that you feel like you might launch into a cardiac episode. A scream works its way up your throat and lodges itself there, unable to be set free.

You’ve never felt terror like this in your life.

And then the light over your stove flicks on, revealing Jungkook standing in your kitchen.

Your breath gets stuck for a new reason entirely. His hair is damp and hanging in his face. He’s in a giant t-shirt and sweats, his normal casual wear. Your heart begins pounding in your chest as you jump to your feet, ready to launch yourself at him.

“Please stay there,” he almost whispers. You stop moving. “I… just stay there.”

“Jungkook.” His name is soft and teary in your mouth. “Are you okay? Please tell me what you need.”

“Just need you to stay there I can… smell you.”

You inhale sharply and nod. You open and close your mouth. There are so many questions you want to ask but you shove them to the side. You just want to hug him and to ask what he needs you to do. You don’t care where he has been, you just want to know that he’s okay and help him. To fix whatever is broken.

To say sorry.

“Tell me what to do,” you murmur. “Tell me how to make this right.”

“I don’t know, but please don’t blame yourself.”

You break. You feel the seams rip loose as you collapse in on yourself and begin to weep in earnest. You just want to go back to the way things were. Before you ruined it. Before whatever… whatever was happening now.

It’s not fair that you’re crying. You’re not the one who has gone through hell and back- well you have, but it feels selfish. Why are you the one crying when Jungkook- perhaps a vampire- is standing in your kitchen looking lost. More lost than he’s ever looked.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, violently wiping your face. “It’s selfish of me to cry. I have no right to be crying.”

“Indy, it’s okay to cry.”

You shake your head. “I did this, Jungkook.” You bite your lip and nod as you think about it. “I wanted so badly to be right, to make myself feel important. I was… I was too obsessed with trying to prove something new to myself, as if it would make me feel better about the museum rejections.”

He drifts forward, soundless. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“There is when it results in whatever has happened here. I missed you in a way I don’t know how to describe. I don’t know- I don’t know what happened to you but it’s my fault and I’m sorry.”

“I voluntarily went with you,” Jungkook says firmly. “In fact, the hotel room was in my name.”

“But you went because of me, because you supported me and I…” You shrug. “I wasn’t punished for my vanity and you’re… I don’t even know.”

On instinct, you stand up and step toward him. You can’t help but seek his comfort and to comfort him in return. What you don’t expect is the snarl that ripples through him, vibrating every dish in your cabinet.

“Don’t come near me,” he hisses, eyes narrowed.

You startle, gasping and skittering backward as your hand flies to your mouth to hide the sound coming out of you. Jungkook’s eyes flash silver in the dark, like a predator whose eyes have been exposed to light.

A scream threatens to break through and a gross terror slides into your mind unbidden- is Jungkook there to kill you for what you’ve done?

It is both ridiculous and firm in your mind, taking root as you step back unsteadily.

“No,” Jungkook whispers, voice something like pleading. “Please don’t do that. Please don’t… please.”

You’re unsure what he’s asking, but you can see him better with the kitchen light on and he looks… defeated. His bottom lip wobbles and his eyes are round- no longer narrowed the way you saw them a moment before. No dangerous flash. Just brown, and just… Jungkook.

“I’m sorry.” You shake your head because you don’t know how to form words. You don’t want him to apologize, but you don’t know how to shape the words through your fear. “I’m sorry that I came here, but I wanted to see you. I didn’t know you would… smell so good and I… I scared you. Taehyung told me not to come here- told me it might be too tempting but I did anyways.”

“You don’t understand,” he continues, unbidden. “You fell asleep in the hotel room that night and something happened to me. You always smell good but you smelled even better and then I could hear the soft pulse in your neck… your heart beat. It sang every song I ever wanted to hear and there was a brief moment where I… where I thought it wouldn’t be so bad, if I just tasted you.”

Jungkook looks at the floor, eyebrows pinched and fingers pulling at the hem of his shirt, hands unable to keep still. “It was the worst moment of my life,” he whispers. “For a split second, I thought- what would stop me from leaning down and taking what I wanted? What I’ve always wanted? So I left. I had to leave. I found Taehyung and he kept his word.”

“He’s helping you?”

“Yeah. He’s not… terrible, despite what he’s done to me. I don’t like him, but he’s helping. Didn’t want me to see you, though. Thought I might…”

He trails off. You know what he was going to say. Taehyung thought that Jungkook might kill you. Because he now drinks blood for a living, and because you smell nice.

Jungkook takes a step forward and you take one back. He looks at you and lets out something that sounds like a whine, a soft sound that is so desperate you almost run to him and throw yourself into his arms, danger be damned. You want to.

But keep keeps you rooted as a million emotions flit across his face.

Jungkook has always been intense when he’s upset, but this is like nothing you’ve ever seen before. He’s standing in the dark of your kitchen, but his eyes almost glow. Headlights in the parking lot flash by your window briefly again, lighting his eyes up like white beacons of fire. You take a step back and he makes a noise in the back of his throat, needy like a whimper.

“Please don’t be afraid of me,” Jungkook whispers. 

Of course you’re afraid. You haven’t seen him in days and he manifested in your kitchen like a shadow. He looks like your best friend and he sounds like your best friend, but he’s altogether different. There’s an edge to him as he soundlessly moves across the kitchen, tentative steps to you. He makes no sound, unusual for him. 

But it's Jungkook. And the soft pleading in his dark eyes that you can just register in the dim light and the way he wavers at the threshold of the kitchen, watching and waiting for your consent… it makes you crack. 

“I’m not,” you whisper.

“You are.” You hear the tremor in his voice. “I can smell it on you- just like I can smell everything else. You’re terrified of me and it’s my fault.” 

“Jungkook-”

“I shouldn’t be here.” 

He walks- no he glides to your door, moving with a grace that is more than just his usual, lithe steps. You bolt after him, reaching out to grab his arm as he reaches for the door. He reacts faster than your eyes can pick up the movement, wrapping a strong hand around your wrist and yanking you forward.

A sound of surprise laced with mild fears escapes you as he pins you against the hardwood door, caging you in as he steps forward. Your breath stutters as you look up at him, question dying on your lips as you really look at him.

Jungkook’s eyes are dark as midnight, but there is something glinting in them, sharp and shining. His hair hangs in his face and he’s breathing is shallow. His eyes are searching and burning and he presses a little bit closer to you and he’s warm warm warm. You shiver, despite the warmth and the smell of him- like rosewood and citrus, making your head dizzy. 

You’ve always been close to Jungkook, always ignoring one another’s personal space. But this feels different. This feels hotter as his hands skate up your sides until he reaches all the way to your jaw, angling your face to him. Your pulse hammers under the pads of his finger, and you watch his focus shift from your face to your neck.

You can’t see the little canines peeking behind his lush mouth. But you suspect that they’re there, two little sharp points that could bite into the soft flesh of your neck. The fear you had moments ago is suddenly dulling, replaced with something else that burns in the pit of your stomach. 

Everything you know about the fabric of the world has changed with him. And still… you’re pleading with him, murmuring, “Don’t leave.”

“You don’t understand,” he murmurs, almost a growl. He presses his forehead to yours and you push toward him instinctually. You’re drawn to him and your head is still spinning but you want nothing more in that moment for Jungkook to close the distance between you, to press his soft, pouty lips against yours. “If I don’t leave right now, I never will.”

“Please don’t,” you whisper. “Please.” 

“Baby…” 

Jungkook has only ever called you that once. Your mind flashes to that night, the single time during your friendship that you thought you could be more. When the touches weren’t familiar and they were intimate and you had been drowning in Jungkook. The night this all started, the night that Jungkook’s journey as… the word vampire sounds ridiculous and instead, you focus on the way he makes you feel. 

The pet name licks a flame inside you and you bring your hands up to pull at his waist, suddenly greedy for the feel and the smell of him. Your fear is gone. “Bite me, Jeon.”

Jungkook makes a sound that sounds close a moan and you echo it. Every emotion that changes his face pulls you in in in. Your fear is replaced with something headier- needier. You angle you head, exposing your neck.

“Will it help?” you whisper.

“Hmm?”

He seems distracted and despite the rollercoaster of emotions, you smile. “Feeding,” you mumble. Your hands slide to his face, fingers delicately touching the bags under his eyes. “You look so tired. I just want to help.”

“I haven’t fed from a person.”

“How… do you?”

“Blood bags, like Vampire Diaries. Sometimes in cups.”

You trace your fingertips along his cheek bones. Brushing dark strands from his face, you cup his cheeks softly, searching. Jungkook is still there- your Jungkook. He’s reflected in his eyes, in the careful way he holds you and watches you.

“I trust you,” you whisper. What you really want to say is what’s weighed on you throughout his entire absence: I love you.

You love him. You know you do. it burns dully right at the center of your chest, flaring into an inferno when he gives you a gentle nod and leans forward. You feel your heartbeat quicken, threatening to burst from your chest as you drop your hands to clutch at his shoulders.

Jungkook’s breath hits your neck and you moan deep in your throat again. He echoes the sound but its deeper as he hesitates, lips so close you can feel him breathing. You twist your fingers further in his shirt, pulling gently and you feel him smile as he chuckles nervously.

A breath gets stuck in your throat as Jungkook brushes his mouth against your pulse point, a ghost of a kiss. You can’t help but shiver and his grip tightens on you. His name falls out of your lips in the soft voice. You feel it on your neck as he presses a firm kiss to your throat.

“That feels nice,” you sigh.

It does feel nice. His mouth is soft and intimate as he begins kissing your skin. It’s hard to focus on anything but the way his mouth presses closed mouth kisses down your throat, pausing at the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“Are you sure?” You nod your head, unable to come up with a response as your eyelids flutter shut. “Tell me if I need to stop.”

“Okay.”

Carefully, Jungkook kisses his way back to a spot on your throat that he seems to favor, nosing your delicate skin first before he brings his lips to your skin. His teeth scrap your flesh and you let out a breathy sound as Jungkook slowly bites down. The skin breaks and immediately the pinch of his teeth sends a sharp pain through you.

You tighten your hands but you don’t push him away, the throb dulling as he makes a sound deep in his chest. You pant against him, head cloudy. You feel lighter than you remember and you sag against your door, feeling the pull of Jungkook’s greedy mouth against you. His tongue laves at your neck and you moan loudly then.

Jungkook pulls away from you, gasping. He hides his face in your neck but you grab him- you want to see him. He protests and you pull his neck harder, moving his face away from your neck to in front of you.

For a moment, you don’t do anything but stare. You’re mutely aware that there is blood running down your throat. You can feel the hot liquid trailing on your skin, slowly dripping. Your neck hurts- but it’s a very soft pain, barely there.

Jungkook looks terrifyingly beautiful. Lips ruby, blood staining his chin. His eyes are black, pupils expanded as he stares at you in painful stillness. You know you should be horrified but you’re not. You know you should be concerned that he just bit into your neck, but you’re not.

“Kiss me,” you demand. You don’t know where the strength in your voice comes from. You push into him, tilting your mouth towards his but not closing the distance, letting him decide. “Please.”

Jungkook responds immediately. He presses his lips firmly against you, stick and wet with your blood. It’s just a press of lips and his mouth is soft soft soft and you inhale through your nose sharply, knees going weak and buckling.

Tightening his hold around you, Jungkook pulls away, staring down at you, eyes wild and bloody lips parted. “Can I really kiss you?”

“Please.”

This kiss is different. You can taste the salt and iron on Jungkook’s lips as he slots his mouth against yours, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. Your tongue brushes his bottom lip and he growls, pressing your lips open to slide his tongue against yours.

Jungkook’s hands slide down your waist to your ass, squeezing firmly as his tongue explores the warmth of your mouth. Your hips cant against his, seeking friction where you want him most. You whine into the metallic kiss, sweatpants too thick for the feeling you want.

Growling into your mouth, Jungkook presses you flat against the door. You can feel his heartbeat thundering in his chest as the kiss turns messy. Jungkook’s teeth catch your lip and you feel the pinch of broken skin before blood slowly blooms in your mouth. Jungkook sucks your lip into his mouth, moaning as his tongue brushes over the wound.

It spurs you forward, the way he claws at you and kisses you as though he might die if he doesn’t have you sends you into a frenzy. You push into him, as though you can meld yourself to him. Your teeth nip at him back, sharply catching the corner of his soft mouth.

Jungkook breaks away and makes a sound of surprise, hand shooting to his lips, swollen from kissing you. You’re panting against the door, staring at him as he wipes the bottom corner of his mouth. His finger comes away scarlet.

“You bit me,” he smirks looking down at you. “You little vampire.”

You blush. The blood is drying on your neck, itchy and cracking as you extend your head again, showing off the bruised and marred flesh. “Don’t you need…. More?”

“I’m hungry for something else entirely, baby.”

The way he is looking at you sends you into overdrive. You make a sound, wiggling against him and he smirks, eyes looking you up and down. You must look a pathetic mess, stained with dried blood, clothes disheveled and lips swollen. But when Jungkook looks at you like that- gaze dark, hungry for something deeper- you don’t care what you look like.

There’s just Jungkook. He’s all you can focus on as your hands slide up his neck, carding through his hair and looking at his face without the shadow of his bangs. He’s ethereal as always, but gone are the cute, round eyes you’re so familiar with. Gone is the soft smile, replaced with two tiny fangs as Jungkook bites his bottom lip.

You can’t help it- a hand drifts down to his mouth, thumb gently prying his lips open. He obeys, letting you brush the pad of your thumb against the newly exposed fangs. They’re small and white, two sharp canines under your touch.

Jungkook’s tongue darts out, licking your thumb playfully as you retract your hand and make a face of fake disgust. He grins. “Sorry,” his voice is low. “Can’t help myself.”

“You didn’t have them earlier?”

He shakes his head. “Only come out when hungry and…”

“And?”

“Aroused.”

Your brows shoot up. “I see.” Your fingers trail his jaw. He’s so painfully perfect. “We should fix that.”

“Thank fuck,” he mumbles, hands shooting to grab you by the waist and haul you up.

You squeak, jumping a little last second to help him secure you in his arms. You’re a little higher than him now, arms wrapped around his neck as he carries you to your bedroom. He navigates the dark easily. You wonder if it’s the years of being in your apartment or supernatural sight that helps him.

It doesn’t matter. The heat from his body is real. He’s still a living, breathing person. He’s altered- you see it in the way his eyes dilate when he lays you on your bed, gaze drifting to your neck. You see it in the way his eyes flash every time they catch the light.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jungkook says softly. His gaze doesn’t feel as innocent as his words. He climbs onto the bed, supporting himself so that he’s hovering over you. “I don’t tell you often enough- wasn’t brave enough to. But I think you are singularly the most beautiful woman in the world.”

You don’t know how to take the compliment. Your head automatically turns to the side as you grin into his forearm, placed next to your head. He laughs and leans down, nosing the side of your face, breath warm as he whispers, “Why does that make you shy? You weren’t shy a moment ago when you bit me.”

“It was different. That was physical.”

“So you only like me physically?”

“No!” you snap to look at him only to find that he’s grinning, back to leaning over you. You want to smack him for teasing you, but the feeling in your stomach and your chest make you fidget under him. His eyes track every movement, every reaction. “I like you… a lot.”

“As more than a friend?” You nod, eyes not meeting him. “Why can’t you look at me, then?”

“Because I’m afraid.” You feel Jungkook start to pull away and you grab at him. “Not of you! I’m afraid you don’t feel the same way. Because I’ve liked you for a very long time, and I didn’t know what to do about it.”

Jungkook presses you back down, head going to the side of your neck he hasn’t bitten. You’re pliant beneath him, head tilting to give him access. You’re already trained for what he wants or needs, ready to give him more.

Instead of biting you, he peppers your neck with wet kisses, tongue tasting your skin. “Indy,” he mumbles. “I have been in love with you since the first moment you walked into our Intro to Classical History class.”

“Really?”

His tongue licks along your jaw. You arch up into him, thighs rubbing together for friction. Of course he notices, smirking into your skin as he continues mapping your face with his mouth. “Yeah,” he breathes. “You wore the world’s tightest pair of jeans I’ve ever seen and an over-sized Tokyo Ghoul shirt- I remember being a little sad it covered your ass.”

You gasp as one hand moves from next to you to slide down your front, palming a breast gently. “You’re so gross, Jeon.”

He hums. “That’s nothing.” His hand goes further, tapping the outside of your thigh. “Open up for me, baby.”

Again, you follow his instruction without hesitation. You make room for him to settle on his knees between you. He sits up, eyes consuming you as you look up at him, batting your lashes. He inhales and his eyes flutter shut, fists opening and closing before he opens his eyes again. They’re zeroed in on you, making your heart catch.

“I can smell how wet you are,” he murmurs. He drags a fingertip along the sliver of skin showing between your shirt and sweats. “You’re dripping for me, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to do something about it?” He’s teasing you and you feel yourself flush. He pinches your skin slightly, making you squirm. “You gotta tell me what you want.”

“Want you.”

“Want me where?”

“My pussy, Jeon. Just do something.”

His saccharine smile makes you melt. Jungkook grips your sweat pants, pulling. You lift, helping him as he throws the clothing somewhere. You start to close your legs again but he grabs your knees, prying you open and tsking at you. “Such a pretty pussy,” he says, voice husky. “So fucking wet and pink. I told you,” he murmurs shuffling to his stomach. Your heart launches to your throat when he kisses a knee, eye-level with your dripping cunt. “I’m fucking starving.”

Despite his implications, Jungkook doesn’t go right where you’re hoping. He places hot kisses on your inner thighs, hands rubbing up and down your legs as he bites and worships them. You’re trembling, eyes fluttering shut as your hips twitch toward him.

“Jungkook,” you murmur, pleading. You don’t have it in you to be embarrassed being on display for him. Your core is throbbing for him to touch you, to do anything. He huffs a laugh as he presses his mouth dangerously close, nipping you as a lone finger brushes you from entrance to clit, pressing slightly. “Fuck.”

Jungkook’s eyes are glittering as he brings his finger to his mouth, glistening finger vanishing between red, sinful lips. He hums again, eyes focusing on your wetness. “Fucking delicious.”

You can’t stop the obscene moan that escapes your mouth when he ducks his head down, flattening his tongue to lick you slowly from hole to clit, where he pauses to circle his tongue a few times around the pulsing bud.

And oh fuck does it feel good. Every thought empties from your mind. It’s just the hot feeling coursing through you and the feeling of Jungkook’s tongue licking you slowly up and down. A guttural sound escapes you when he fastens his mouth to your pussy, sucking gently before popping his mouth off.

In a daze, you open your eyes in just enough time to see him let a line of spit drip out of his mouth onto your clit. Your hips jerk and you curse again when he grins, glancing up at you and murmuring, “I’m going to eat this fucking pussy until I’ve had my fill.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you time to consider what he means. His mouth is back on you, sucking and licking, making an absolute mess out of you. Your hands shoot to his hair, fingers twisting in his black locks as he gives appreciative sounds, tongue tracing your clenching hole.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, voice cracking. “Please.”

You don’t know what you’re asking for. Jungkook seems to, alternating from tracing his tongue through your folds expertly to sucking his clit into your mouth. His mouth sets of sparks with every lewd sound- and Jungkook isn’t quiet.

With anyone else, you might be embarrassed that the way he eats you out audibly, without shame and without a care in the world. It turns you on more, essence leaking out of you that his searching tongue catches.

Your orgasm is quickly approaching, that tight feeling mounting in your stomach as your breathing gets shorter. Your eyes are squeezed shut, hips rolling to time with his careful licks and sucks. You’re hot all over, a furnace under Jungkook’s mouth.

The dam breaks. You jerk forward, gasping as your legs squeeze Jungkook’s shoulders. You can hear nothing beyond the roar of your blood in your ears, see nothing but blinding stars behind your eyes. You sag back onto the bed, twitching and thighs shaking as Jungkook diverts from giving your clit attention to licking at your entrance.

Boneless, you try and move up the bed but Jungkook’s hands grab you by your ass, pulling back down toward his mouth. You look at him, feeling drunk as you see his dark head of hair between your legs.

Jungkook’s eyes are fathomless as he growls, “Did I say I was done, baby?”

“Sensitive,” you whine.

He kisses your inner thigh, leaving a wet mark of spit and your cum. “I’ll go slow,” he promises, not taking his eyes off of you as his tongue snakes out of his wicked mouth to prod at your hole. “Mmm. Want to taste you more.”

“Fuck,” you moan as his tongue relieves some of the pressure at your aching hole. But it’s not enough- not nearly.

Jungkook senses what you need, a hand leaving where he’s gripping you to trace between your legs. Gently, his finger circles the ring of your clenching muscles. Eyes finding yours, he raises a brow. “Is this what you need, baby? Need my fingers?”

“Please.” He kisses your clit, making you twitch. “Jungkook.”

“Sorry,” he smiles, though he doesn’t sound or look sorry. “Just wanna make you cum again.”

There’s not going to be a problem there. You swear as he slowly inserts a finger, brushing against the softness of you in all the right parts. You know you’re going to cum embarrassingly fast, especially when he inserts another finger, gently brushing your g-spot as he brushes his mouth over your thighs, wrist moving slowly.

You melt at his touch, letting him bring you to the edge again. You can’t stop the sounds coming out of your mouth or the way you writhe in his arms. He lets you squirm, attentive on fucking into you at a steady pace with his fingers.

When he deems you ready, he brings his mouth back down, tongue slowly laving at your clit.

You explode.

For a moment, you’re nowhere and everywhere all at once. You can’t think beyond anything other than the surging euphoria. You can’t recall ever cumming that hard, nearly unable to breathe as you float back down.

It takes a moment for you to realize Jungkook is kissing your lower stomach, hands rubbing up and down your quaking thighs as he looks up to you, eyes completely fucked out and mouth covered in your juices.

“You did so good,” he coos, placing a wet kiss on your navel. “You taste divine- better than blood. Much better.”

“Want you,” you mumble, surprised you manage to articulate the desire still burning in your stomach, hot and needy. “Please.”

“Yeah? Still want me?”

“Of course.”

“Fuck,” he mumbles, getting to his knees again. “You’ll have me, then. You’ll always have me- have always had me.”

Soft light filters in your room from the window. You watch in awe as he rips his shirt off. You’ve seen him shirtless before- he’s always been beautiful. But now in the glow of the dark room, Jungkook is a god.

You sit up, hands seeking. His skin is warm and flushed as your palms skim up his stomach and around his waist, careful and meaningful with their worship. Your mouth follows to pay penance, kissing at the newly exposed flesh, nipping at the delicate skin above his sweatpants.

Jungkook tilts his head to the sky, as if in prayer. Your tongue darts out to taste him, skin sweet and slightly salty from sweat. He lets out a soft mewl. Your fingers dig into his skin as they drag down, nails tracing red scripture in their descent.

You love him. Gone is the feral heat between you a moment ago when he licked at you with hot fury. Your touches are soft. Jungkook brings his hand to your hair, brushing it out of your face as he looks down at you, eyes round and curious.

“You’re hypnotizing.” You pull at his pants and he lets you, shifting to discard the sweatpants and boxers. You nearly collapse at the sight of his heavy cock, bouncing. Its tip is weeping and pink, begging for attention. “All of you is perfect.”

Your tongue darts out to taste him, kitten-licking the tip. He moans deep in his throat, eyes shut as his fingers tangle in your hair. You suckle the tip of his cock, tongue tracing lazy circles before you pull back with a lewd pop.

Gently, you bring a hand to stroke him, nearly keening at how velvety his skin is. His cock jumps in your hand, making you smile at how much you affect him.

Slowly, you stroke him, bringing him back to your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, you take more of his cock into the warmth of your mouth, humming delicately at the salty tastes.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans loudly. You’ve hardly set a pace when he pulls you gently off of him, making you pout. “I can’t,” he pants. “I’ll cum in a second and I don’t want to cum down your throat tonight. We can do that another time. I just want to fuck you- please let me make love to you.”

Jungkook’s choice in words have you spinning. Make love. You don’t know what that’s like- you’ve fucked men before, but never with meaning. Never with intentions beyond pleasure.

Carefully, Jungkook pulls your shirt off, tossing it in the dim room. He presses you back down on the bed, bringing his mouth to yours. Your tongues tangle as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. You feel his cock brush your wet entrance and you groan into him.

The kiss tastes like a mix of him and you and the faint saltiness of blood- you don’t care. It’s a part of him, so it’s a part of you. Jungkook shuffles himself so that his mouth is pressed against your jaw, hot breath in your ear as he places open-mouthed kisses there.

“Condom?”

“I’m clean,” you gasp as his tip grazes your clit. “We got STD tests together, remember? I haven’t… since.”

You feel his mouth curve upward. “Me either. Taehyung mentioned vampires are… sterile.”

“Fine,” you mutter. “I don’t want kids- I want to adventure the world- with you.”

“Fuck.” His voice shakes when he says it.

Spurred by the need in his voice, you reach between you, gripping Jungkook’s cock in his head. He shakes above you as you brush the tip up and down your slit, gathering your essence to make him slick. You position his blunt head at your entrance, looking up at him. He doesn’t hesitate, rolling his hips forward to push into you.

The pressure doesn’t hurt, but you feel all of him. You make a sigh of relief and discomfort as he slowly slides into you. Jungkook fills every inch of you, the drag of his cock delicious. He bottoms out and stays there for a moment, stealing a searing kiss from you.

Your fingers wind in his hair. “Please move,” you mumbled between pressed lips. “Wanna feel you.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate, groaning as he slides his cock all the way out and pushes back in slowly. His pace is slow but deep, making it hard to breathe. Your hips roll in time to meet his thrust, an almost lazy pace like you have all the time in the world.

Your mouth is busy as you kiss Jungkook on his lips, jaw, chin, ear. It’s more teeth and tongue than anything, especially as he starts fucking into you with a smooth pace.

Everything in your mind goes haywire. You can barely think. You want to touch Jungkook everywhere, pulling and pulling him until he’s down on his forearms, chest pressed against yours. You moan at the feeling of his chest against your pert nipples, creating mind-numbing friction.

Jungkook notices. He ducks his dead down as he pumps into you, hitting deep every time. He wraps his mouth around a nipple, making you sing. Everything is overwhelming. You feel every part of him pressed against you and you want more. More more more

You want to drown in Jungkook.

You want him to sink his teeth in and never let go.

Turning your head to the side, you let out a high-pitch whimper. You can’t stop the noises coming out of you, squeaking and struggling to stop the shaky quality but you feel so fucking good as he fucks into you.

“Feels so good,” you gasp at a particularly deep thrust.

“Yeah it fucking does,” Jungkook agrees, licking at your neck where your blood has dried. “You’re fucking squeezing my cock, Indy. You gonna cum?”

“Yes yes yes yes.”

“Fuck I love the way you look right now. Dreamed of this for years.”

“Pervert- fuuuuuck Jungkook.”

“Cum for me, yeah?”

You nod and whisper, “Bite me.”

He grunts and bends down, immediately sinking his teeth in. There’s no pain this time. Heat blooms through you, a white-hot flame that catches you so off guard you go rigid, cumming with a scream.

You float. Jungkook slows his movements, fucking you gentle through the white noise in your ears and the heavenly feeling of weightlessness. It takes you a few moments to come back down from your high, feeling the way Jungkook’s mouth pulls at your neck greedily.

Tired and spent, you grab Jungkook by the hips, fingers sliding against sweaty skin. He detaches from your neck and kisses you, messy with spit and blood again. You don’t care, moaning into him without abandon, digging your nails into his ass.

Jungkook loses his slow pace and begins to slam into you, kiss turning to teeth bumping into teeth. He growls into your mouth, the snarl sending shivers down your body as you hold into him.

He fucks you with wild abandon, chasing his high. His moans get higher pitched and you run your nails down his thighs, pushing yourself into him with whatever energy you can gather. “Cum for me,” you beg. “Give it to me, Jeon. Come on.”

With a loud moan, he buries himself into your shoulder, shuddering above you. His muscles clench as he cums and pants your name, shivering above you for a moment.

Gently, you run your hands up and down his sides, kissing the side of his fact. You can see his mouth is covered in blood- and it doesn’t nearly freak you out as much as you expect. Because it’s Jungkook, and even though this is weird and he just drank your blood… you’re his. You have been for a long time.

Jungkook pulls out of you and collapses next to you, an arm going around your waist. He peeks at you from his sweaty hair and you can’t help but feel your heart leap in your chest.

“You didn’t kill me,” you murmur. “Pretty impressive, Jeon.”

He grins, tired. “It’s because I love you.” He shifts so that he can hold your gaze in full. “I know I have a lot to figure out, and I understand if you don’t-“

“I want to,” you cut him off. “Because I love you too.”

“Yeah?” He brushes the hair from your face. You nod and nip at his wrist, making him laugh. “Maybe you’re a little bit of a vampire too, hmm?”

“I’ll leave that to you,” you yawn. Jungkook pulls you close and nuzzles you. You don’t care that your sweaty and sticky with cum and blood. You just want to be close to him.

And your happy. Despite how afraid you were while he was gone. Despite the fact that there is an entire unknown ahead of you. It’ll be okay because you have Jungkook and he has you.

“By the way,” Jungkook muses. “Were you researching how to kill Taehyung?”

You hesitate. “I was kind of mad.”

“I see. And now?”

“Jury is still out.”

He chuckles. “Love you, Indy.”

“Love you, Jeon.”

-

Dear Miss L/N,

Thank you for applying for our entry level Acquisition Agent position here at Ilum Agency. We have received many applicants for the position, and take careful considerations to presented research, experience in the field, and recommendations.

After reviewing your final research project regarding Vampirism: Throughout the Ages, and additionally receiving recommendations from Kim Namjoon and Min Yoongi, we are pleased to offer you the position. Upon written receipt of this offer, you will receive a formal offer letter with your job responsibilities, salary and additional benefits.

Warmest Regards,

The Director of Acquisitions

Ilum Agency

Sector 11

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook oneshot #bts smut #bts fanfic #bangtan boys #vampire jungkook #vampire bts #minors dni #minors do not interact #blood and gore

[caffess]

freedom ; peter ballard x reader

A/N: not the first fic i write, but definitely the first one i post in here

contents; violence, fluff, peter is not the bad one its 002, happy normal life, probably a part two, y/n and peter are cute.

summary: you and peter have been longing for freedom ever since you fell in love, now its time to finally flee the lab with a eight-year-old eleven and start living a normal life.

“Everything ready?”

“Yes, lets just hope Eleven gets here on time”

“She will. She’s very smart for her age.” Peter shuffled around grabbing the walkie talkie that you had sneaked into the lab less than a week ago; in the other line awaited an excited Russian named Yuri, awaiting to do the job he was so well paid for.

It was hard to find a way to escape the lab, especially since Peter and Eleven weren’t allowed to go outside for obvious reasons. Freedom seemed to be something they could only dream of, but if your plan worked out, it would become a reality.

“If Eleven takes the soteria off of you, in theory, you would get your powers back, correct?” You asked, as you got rid of the silly doctors hat that Brenner made you wear.

“Not in theory, it’s a fact,” Peter played with his fingers nervously, an excited smile threatening to form in his lips “We will get the life we've been dreaming of. I promise.”

He kissed you gently in the lips, and for a moment, you let it all settle in.

You would be free.

You were interrupted by the sound little footsteps emerging from the stairs. Peter let go of you and grabbed Eleven as gently as he could, indicating her to stay quiet, due to her nearly letting out a frightened squeak when one of the machines let out some steam near her.

“Follow me, Y/N is just around the corner” He told her.

In less than a second you could see how El and Peter emerged from the distance, and the nervous girl let out the breath she was holding as she saw you.

“Hi, El” You whispered, opening your arms so Eleven could launch her tiny frame into yours

“Hi, mom” She whispered, tears falling from her eyes. 

When Peter told her that there was a way for you three to escape the lab and become a family, Eleven had been so excited she nearly forgot to fake playing the game of chess. The whole day she just kept thinking about the world outside the walls.

You talked to her about Hawkins; the sun, the squirrels, the music. Everything you talked to her about seemed to make her more excited and curious to know what the world outside would look like.

“So, this is the thing.” Peter said, as he placed the walkie in front of both you and Eleven. He took her tiny hand and placed it on his neck where she could feel the little bump under his skin “Can you feel it?”

Eleven nodded in confusion, and looked over to you in search of an explanation.

“Your Papa calls it Soteria” Peter said “It weakens me, it tracks me. We need your help to take it off, if we don’t he will find us”

“H-How can I help?” El asked nervously while pursing her lips. You place your hands on her shoulders and make her turn around to look at you.

“The best option we have is for you to use your powers to take it out” You said, taking one of her hands in yours. “If you do it fast enough you wont hurt him, but we have to be fast unless you want us to miss our ride to freedom”

“O-Okay” She said.

Peter took his belt off and moved in order for him to lay his back on a wall, and put his belt in his mouth, with his other hand in yours.

“When I count to three, you will pull it off, okay?”

El nodded.

“One.. Two” Peter closed his eyes hard and his grip on your hand grew tighter “Three!”

Peter’s whine is partly muffled by the belt and you hear the Soteria clink as it hits the ground. 

“You okay, darling?” You ask as Peter shuffled towards the tiny chip covered in blood, his hand not once leaving yours.

“Yeah... Yeah... Im fine.” Reality seems to punch him right in the face when he sees the object shining between his fingers. Freedom was just a few steps away from becoming real.

“There they are!” A voice shrieks while kicking the door right open “Freeze!”

Peter grabs your and Eleven’s hands and makes a run for it. 

You both follow him up some stairs while several security guards yell orders behind you. Peter’s grip on your hand becomes tighter signaling the fear and adrenaline going through his veins. You kick open a door and you're able to find yourselves in a hallway. It seems empty at first and you try to keep running, but just as you turn your heel, you are surrounded by guards with electric weapons pointing at you.

“All three of you against the wall!” One of them says, you slowly hide behind Peter, holding Eleven tightly in your arms.

“You don’t have to be afraid of them, El.” He tells her while looking at the guard right in the eyes “Not anymore”

In a quick movement, Peter turns around and uses his powers to push the guards behind you against the wall, and crashing the two others in front of him against the roof. The last one puts his hands up but Pete shows him no mercy, and snaps his neck before he’s able to even beg for mercy.

“Come on, El, let’s go, now!” You grab her wrist and follow Peter around the lab. Your feet run as fast as they can trying to keep up with the blonde boy. You hear Eleven’s terrified whimpers and you long to console her but now isn't the right time, and the only thing you can do is try to urge her to run faster.

She’s just eight years old, her tiny and delicate frame cant keep up with both yours and Peter’s long steps, so you stop for a brief moment and take her in your arms.

“Lets play a game, okay?” You whisper in her ear, while putting your hand in Peter’s once again “You will try to hold me as tight as you can, and I want you to close your eyes and count to the biggest number you can think of, alright?”

You can feel her nod, and her head buries itself in the crook of your neck, where you can hear clearly her voice counting as slowly as possible.

“Dont move, we will shoot!” A guard screams. Peter looks back at him and sends his crew flying against the walls. One of them fires his gun but it missed you narrowly, startling El, who whimpers in your neck.

“What was that?” She asks, her voice cracking. As soon as Peter is done with the guards you keep running, holding his hand and cradling Eleven’s head.

“It was nothing, keep counting, you were doing it so well!”

You go down some stairs and finally see the reception. Alarms are blaring around you and Peter is going ballistic throwing all the goons around the air and against the walls. When you're about to reach the door, you trip with an object and hit your head against a hard surface. You can hear Eleven whine and Peter’s too busy with the men to help you. You try to stand up but an artifact floats towards you and hits you right in the nose.

You shriek at this and turn around to see what happened and are faced by number Two staring at you with angry eyes.

“You guys always seem to forget about me, dont you?”

Peter turns around and freezes for a second at the sight of the kid. How he has escaped is beyond you two, but he seems to be boiling in anger. Before you're able to formulate a response, you see the kid raise his hand towards you and you can feel a force pulling you up by your neck.

“Peter tries to focus on both him and the guards but the task seems impossible. Your sight starts getting blurry and as soon as you think you're going to slip into unconsciousness, you feel the pressure leave you, and you drop to the ground.

You can hear a loud crash and screams, and you feel Peter’s arms around you. When you look up, the only thing you're able to see is a huge red opening against the wall that is slowly closing in front of you, and Eleven’s tiny frame collapse in the ground.

Everything seems too blurry and your throat aches like hell, but with Peter’s help you manage to get up. He grabs El’s tiny body and cradles her in her arms and you're back to running. Peter uses his powers to open the gate to the lab and you both run off to the woods. 

Your feet hurt and you're feeling dizzy, but you cant afford to stall right now. You are so close to making it that you can nearly taste freedom at the tip of your tongue.

The world around you seems to fade and theres only you, Peter, and Eleven. Running for your lives. Running for your freedom.

“I see you, Americans” You hear a voice echoing from Peter’s pocket, and suddenly you remember what you’re running towards: Yuri’s car.

Far from you, you see a glimpse of blue, and the closer you get, the better you can see it.

It’s a car.

It’s freedom

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Eleven didn't wake up until you guys arrived at a cottage far from the lab. The car ride was full of weird attempts at understanding Yuri’s less than funny jokes but in the end everything worked out for you guys.

El rubbed her eyes as she looked around the place, you were putting her down on an old dusty couch so you could look for the bags hidden under the floorboards.

You reached for a suitcase filled with money and handed it to the weird russian man, who had been drooling over his payment a whole month.

“There you go, now get the fuck out of here” You said. You watched him scurry away and didnt peel your gaze off him until he was way out of sight in the heart of the woods.

“Where are we?” Eleven asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey darling, we are in a safe house. We have about an hour to get cleaned up before we go to our real house”

“Real house? Where?”

“Its a beautiful place near Lovers Lake” You explained, while ruffling inside the bag looking for the clothes you had bought for her. “Go inside the room and put this on. I will help you get cleaned up in a second”

“Wheres Peter?” She asked, while grabbing the white shirt and blue skirt you had gotten her.

“Don’t worry about him darling, he’s just starting the car”

As she entered the room, you didn’t waste any time and took your ugly dress off. You pulled your clothes on and put a coat over them; you were in the middle of November and it was pretty chilly.

“The car is ready to go” Peter said as he jumped into the cabin. You couldn’t help but notice the huge red stain in his shirt caused by the open wound of the Soteria.

“Oh Peter come on we gotta get you cleaned up.” You said, hurrying to get something to stop the bleeding. You ripped a piece of your ugly nurse dress and pressed it on his neck. “Good luck I got you a turtle neck”

He chuckled at this, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Gods, I love you, you know that, right”

You chuckled and nodded.

“I love you too, Peter, you’re the love of my life”

#peter ballard #peter ballard x reader #vecna x reader #001 x reader #victor creel x reader #victor creel #stranger things vecna #001 stranger things #eleven stranger things #henry creel stranger things #jane hopper #dr brenner #peter ballard stranger things #hawkins #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #ST4

[cactusspatz]

July recs

It might be the very last day of the month, but that means I'm not late! Five Sandman recs under the cut, and one each for Batman, Murderbot, and Biggles.

SANDMAN

What Manner Of Creature by @ro-moray (Dream/Hob)

Hob's had a number of theories about his strange friend over the years. They are all, of course, completely incorrect.

Great through-the-years look at Hob and Dream, with humor and understanding.

to dream you was remembering by @cuubism (Dream/Hob)

Hob understands now both why Dream created this nightmare, as well as why doing so was an unconscious rather than conscious act, and the thought hurts more than the nightmare itself. After all, Hob has had four hundred years to grapple with his own loss. He's not sure that, even after so much time, Dream has grappled with his.

Short scene with Hob and Dream and a baby nightmare, but it packs a hell of an emotional punch.

The Dread and Fear of Kings by @maybemalapert (gen)

"I'm afraid I'm not much into charcoal sketches," Hob said, taking in the crude rendition of himself and his Stranger that he'd last seen in the hands of Johanna Constantine. "Now, oil paintings on the other hand--" "Mr. Gadlen," the man interrupted. "I have gone to great lengths to find you and to confirm that it was indeed you who met with Dream of the Endless in 1889 and every century prior. Let me assure you, I do not make a habit of kidnapping people on a whim."

Deliciously whumpy fishbowl rescue with Burgess being a real bastard (what else). Happy ending, but mind the tags.

Yours for the Taking by @signiorbenedickofpadua (Calliope/Dream/Hob)

When Hob spots a sad woman in white through a window of a famous author's house, he gets a bad feeling. Further investigation reveals that she's in need of rescue, but what Hob isn't prepared for is the fact that the woman he sets out to save turns out to be a literal Greek goddess, the ex-wife of the Stranger he keeps waiting for, and a rather lovely person to boot.

SUCH a good and satisfying read, with a skillful build to the three-way romance.

more sky comes and more days by Chrome/@catalists (Calliope/Dream/Hob)

In the aftermath of her imprisonment, Calliope is determined to learn to trust humans again, so she finds a roommate and settles in the mortal world. Meanwhile, her former husband has been on another quest that ended in grief, and he seeks her out for solace. What could possibly go wrong? or, “Hey, Zed,” Hob answered. “Something the matter?” “Yes,” she said. “Calliope’s ex showed up and he’s fucking terrifying.”

Really enjoyed this way of them all colliding - funny and bittersweet at turns - and the resolution.

MISC

Birdwatch11 by @smilebackwards (Batman, gen)

Tim hadn’t actually meant to start a popular Batwatch blog. He hadn’t meant to start a blog at all honestly but by the time he turned eleven he’d accumulated hundreds of pictures of Batman and Robin on his Nikon DSLR and it had just seemed inefficient to go through the trouble of printing them and storing them in a box under his bed when BlogSphere had a perfectly adequate platform.

Short, funny, sweet story about someone trying to claim credit for Tim's pre-Robin photo habit, and his A+++ response.

in recognition by isilee (Murderbot, gen)

Volescu's first communication from SecUnit, once it had pieced together its brain again and settled into Preservation a little more, appeared in his feed inbox right as he took a sip of his morning coffee.

*dies laughing* In which Murderbot recognizes Volescu for having the sense to retire. Cute look at the friendship of the whole survey group.

Biggles in Sarawak by @philomytha (Biggles/von Stalhein)

Biggles is asked to help the CIA transport a Soviet spy they've captured in a remote jungle location. The trouble is, the spy is Erich von Stalhein. And that's only the first problem.

Excellent adventure jam-packed with tropes from hurt/comfort to teaming-up-with-your-nemesis to sex pollen (with said nemesis, of course).

#fic rec #monthly recs #sandman #hob/dream #hob/dream/calliope #calliope/dream/hob #the sandman #batman #murderbot #biggles #biggles/von stalhein #gen

[ccuniculusmolestus]

WinterBunny star sign compatability + analysis.

As you read this please keep in mind I am not trying to generalize all signs and I also acknowledge that sometimes traits obviously overlap in star signs. This is my personal theory, and it's just for fun, so if any of yall get triggered tahst on u bae. Anyway lets begin.

(ALSO keep in mind i have a HORRIBLE habit of adding texts from the book to support a point. I know its kinda pointless and repetitive but I CANT HELP IT.)

edit: I think its mentioned in the novel Henry's birthday is in December! Someone just pointed that out to me. So he's either Sagittarius or Capricorn sun sign. Which would make Virgo his ascending sign (the sign that influences your day to day personality the most) because this man is more Virgo than he is Sag OR capricorn! So we have the ascending sign, how you behave on the surface, then we have the moon sign, how your inner perception and emotions are. (Which I think both moon and ascending for him are virgo🤷‍♂️) and the sun sign is basically your archetype (which makes me believe he's a Capricorn sun rather than a Sag sun because Capricorns are more success oriented).

Henry is mostly influenced by virgo, obviously (Virgo men toxic as hell btw. Jk.).

Bunny is quite clearly a gemini.

These are the traits listed under Virgo men;

Logic presides over emotion

Patient -> Didn't murder Bunny after one interaction (jk). But he did really put up with Bunny for quite an unreasonable amount of time.

Perfectionist

VERY Picky -> About his inner circle (and somehow Bunny still got in. They were 100% fu-)

Hardworking -> Has published a literary paper before he even started uni

Methodical -> Thought well and good about Bun's murder

Usually the most valued member on a team -> Literally the leader of his group and also the best in his class

Not frivolous with money -> Obviously. Despite the money Henry had, he had quite a lot saved up and didn't blow his money on anything other than a loud, blond sugarbaby

Stylishly sophisticated -> Umbrellas and suits and long coats. Need I say more.

Not very emotionally expressive -> Yes.

Happy when appreciated/useful -> He described this desire to help Bun when he first met him, because he pitied him for his conditions. Girl that is the virgo in you trying to 'fix' something for Bunny (or perhaps fix Bunny himself). (1)

If you remember, one of Henry's complaints was that Bunny wasn't appreciative, not a word of thanks. His Virgo was shaking fr. I mean i think had Bunny been more appreciative at least Henry might have not murdered him (not to victim blame or whatever-- actually. I am victim blaming. bunny was a bitch) (2)

(1)

(2)

Also, Virgos are most commonly introverts and prefer to find meaning in their own solitude.

Now, Bunny is a gemini for sooo many reasons.

More emotional than logical

Talkative -> Bro never shut the hell up.

Playful & funny

Quick-witted

Nobody is a stranger to geminis -> He had a natural air of amiability (that was very misleading). He was the first person in the group to give Richard a sense of friendship (quickly ruined, though). He is also the only one aside from Richard with friends outside the class, and these people seem to have a generally positive idea of him

Nosy -> Bro was going through his best friend and roommates belongings. They had to kill him cuz he knew too much 😭

Not good with secrets -> We know that.

Unreliable -> We also know that (Henry could not rely on Bunny to follow the pre-bacchanal prep like the special bathing or the fasting.)

Like interesting company, prefer the exotic -> Henry was very much removed from normal. But Bunny had a strong interest in him. Aside from homo behaviour and financial dependence i think the boy was just super curious

Incredibly high standards... -> we know.

Hides his true self -> I mean so does Richard. But Richard is libra coded.

People close to him have to keep up with his mental games and gymnastics -> Bros logic is insane. (and nonexistent).

Likes arguing

So you guys may take this for yapping but certain signs are said to be more, idk, susceptible to certain illnesses. Geminis apparently usually have very weak respiratory systems and are prone to developing asthma? Bunny canonically has asthma, and doesn't smoke. Not me doing mental gymnastics to prove he is truly a gemini but i SWEaR

And of course, Geminis are very, very extroverted (usually). Plus being socially gifted helps them kind of have a chameleon sort of charm where they can fit in with lots of different kind of people. If you think back to the fact that he's the only one capable of making Henry laugh, he probably is very socially intelligent. Well...that area gets clouded over or muddied by his dumbass childish innocence (believing his friend, capable of murder, wont murder him for fucking THREATNING HIM?) (Trusting his fake ass murderous friends despite knowing theyre out to kill him to approach them near that stupid ravine? Either he's a cocky bastard who thinks he's got the protag shield or he's a dumbass child with 0 self preservation.

....he is both.)

Anyway.

If Virgo and Gemini do not go well together it's because they are so different from one another. Buuut what sets them apart also draws them together.

Both signs are ruled by planet Mercury, which rules communication and language (but both are affected differently). Gemini is gifted with social intelligence (specifically that chameleon like featured i mentione before) and Virgo is meticulous about the little things (noticing when something's off etc). Mercury also rules language skills btw- maybe henry's obsession with (and talent for) learnig languages-- (*gunshot*)

So these two signs have quite a lot in common though it isn't obvious at a first glance (typical w Bun and Henry. Theyre so different that Richard assumed at first that they hated one another but actually they are besties <3....who hate each other. its complicated (no its not. its just unresolved sexual tension)).

No but fr, these two are signs that are popularly thought to be doomed in a relationship but can defy all odds.

So Gemini is very unstable btw, like, spontaneous, and I think we get that vibe from the overall image of Bunny that's presented in the novel. I can't really think of an example of Bunny's spontaneity, so I can't say I have proof of it, I'm going based off vibes bro.

Logically, unstable is attracted to stable and vice versa, just because they kind of make it more convenient and fun for one another. So like, Virgo being stable gets some fun in its life thanks to Gemini's wild nature, and Gemini being volatile gets the comfort of stability thanks to Virgo's composed nature. Compare and contrast that to Bun and Henry as you wish.

On the bad side, Gemini can talk too much, and this tendency to over-communicate can cause arguments to be long and tiring and repetitive. Think back to how Henry describes their fights in rome.

Gemini can also think Virgo can be a bit boring, or lifeless. Virgo will not always appreciate Gemini's flightiness or spontaneity (no evidence for this in terms of Bun/Hen but its giving me great headcanon ideas also it sounds like them)

They also don't share core values (so on things like beliefs, marriage, children, or stuff like work). I mean Henry seems like the kind of guy that wouldn't really want kids, he gives the vibe (for a multitude of reasons, not just pure disdain for fatherhood. But he probably didn't have a good father and worries about becoming him idk thats a headcanon of mine). Bunny wants EIGHT children. Not with Henry, i assure you, 😂😂 but he said (i think with Marion) he wanted 8 kids. insane.

.....ah, see. There's Henry's opinion....

Kind of funny how they were put together in that scene idk. Like. Anyway.

NSFW paragraph below. There will be a bunny emoji where it ends and then there's a conclusion.

Also. This is going to be a very long yap session. Virgos tend to be quite...freaky under their façade of calm. So they're very sexual and kinky, whereas Gemini is more easy-going and curious. Now this plays into a huge nsfw headcanon I had for them (before I even started connected the dots between their sun signs and all that) but that's talked about here. But Virgos tend to be more service-oriented but both signs are dominant and submissive, so Virgo is dominant because it's kind of into crazy things when it comes to sex (BDSM...girl..when i read this i was gagged. wait. not like that) and virgo is submissive because, well, im guessing introvert LOL. Geminis are both because they're just open to everything. Also...too much sexual tension lol.

🐇

I haven't thought about Bunnys rising/ascending or his moon sign. But he is most probably a Leo rising, and idk for his moon. And Henry is Virgo rising, possibly Virgo moon, and capricorn sun. And I know I wrote this whole thing as Virgo/Gemini rather than Capricorn/Gemini and that's simply because I believe Henry has more of a Virgo energy than a capricorn one (also I had forgotten he was born in December before writing this HAHA)

So yeah anyway that's my Bunny and Henry star sign headcanon and analysis! I know theres lots of similarities and overlaps of traits between different signs, so dont get too like, idk, mad about this thing or take it too serious. it is just my headcanon! which is highkey canon coded but lets not-

haha anyway! i think richard is libra, and francis might also be virgo btw, and no i am not just saying that bcs of his hypochondria (i am😔) well he is kind of sassy so idk. Francis would be an air or earth sign. I actually believe none of them have fire sun signs except Henry. Camilla and Charles...hmm....maybe Cancer. havent given these much thought :3

#i be yapping #yap session #idk if this had a point except winterbunny #bunny corcoran #the secret history #tsh #henry winter #tsh donna tartt #winterbunny #francis abernathy #richard papen #charles macaulay #camilla macaulay #winterhare

[pomegranatecookiez]

the fact that all conversation about dark choco and pomegranate cookie’s relationship has been boiled down to “she abuses him” really fuckin bothers me, man. because there’s so much more to it than that.

first of all, i’m tired of people throwing the word “abuse” around so freely. abuse implies repeated mental or physical harm, and judging by licorice’s reaction, the scene we see in dark mode is the only time their bickering has escalated to that point.

people also seem to forget that pomegranate’s dislike of dark choco isn’t one sided. their dislike for each other is mutual, and dark choco has no problem with being rude to her back. what pomegranate does to him in dark mode is fucked up, absolutely, but he isn’t some poor uwu baby who can’t defend himself. the nightmare vision incident didn’t happen completely unprompted, it happened because the tension that had been building between them finally reached its boiling point.

again, not defending her actions in the slightest. just clearing up a misconception about their relationship that i’m tired of seeing constantly.

with that out of the way, just why do they hate each other so much? pomegranate isn’t nice to the other cookies of darkness either, sure, but she’s far from as hostile towards them as she is towards dark choco. why? what makes him different? as the resident pomegranate cookie deep lore and psychoanalysis guy, i have a theory. 

comparing dark choco and pomegranate’s backstories, they’re EXTREMELY similar. it’s clear just from reading their bios.

yes i still play with the korean voices on i dont like english dubs in general. let me live

their bios in kingdom are ripped directly from ovenbreak, which i actually have a bit of an issue with since it causes them to be slightly outdated. dark choco being the prince of a kingdom isn’t mentioned at all, and the line about the pomegranate village being overrun doesn’t line up with what we know now, with how pomegranate cookie was the one who destroyed her village.

it makes sense, though, since both of their bios were written long before kingdom was even a thing, and the lore it introduces existed. but they still give us a good example of how their backstories are similar.

neither of them chose to be evil of their own volition. whether it be pomegranate’s vision of her fate, or dark choco being possessed by his sword, they were led to believe they HAD to go down the route they ended up on. 

the difference lies on how far down that route they ended up on. pomegranate has presumably been working for dark enchantress way longer than dark choco has, and fully believes in her cause. she has given up everything to serve her, and views herself as nothing more than her faithful servant. meanwhile, dark choco was presumably the newest member of the group before affogato, and still isn’t sure of if this is really what he wants to do. he hasn’t been fully indoctrinated yet, and even after he’s subjected to ye olde trauma nightmare visions and swears loyalty, he still isn’t in deep enough that he can’t break out of it.

which is exactly what he ends up doing in episode 14, which pomegranate clearly isn’t very happy about. 

keep in mind that she’s going on this whole monologue while probably bleeding out from a flesh would. kinda raw ngl

there’s something else that’s important to mention. just like how dark choco cookie was once the prince of a kingdom, pomegranate cookie used to be the high priestess of the pomegranate village, essentially being its princess.

pomegranate cookie wasn’t just some random girl in the village who decided to fuck everyone over one day, she was in charge of protecting her people. just like dark choco was.

when you take that into consideration, you’re able to see just how similar the two are. they were both meant to rule over and protect their respective homelands, but their belief that they had no choice but to betray and destroy them led them to do just that. dark choco nearly killed his own father, and pomegranate burned her entire village to the ground.

and that’s why pomegranate hates him so much. he’s just like her, and that makes lines like these hit even harder.

she isn’t just talking about him here. she’s talking about herself. she betrayed her own people, so there’s no turning back for her. and in her eyes, there isn’t any turning back for him either, which he refuses to accept.

despite what people may believe, pomegranate doesn’t think she’s better than everyone else because of her power, personality, anything like that. in fact, it’s implied both through her description on the villains quiz and her defeat dialogue that she’s incredibly hard on herself, and prone to self deprecation.

all pomegranate has at this point in her life is dark enchantress cookie, and her unwavering love for and loyalty towards her. without her, she is nothing. without her, she is useless. and the same goes for everyone else. if you aren’t willing to give up everything, you’re a coward, and you’re weak.

but dark choco isn’t willing to make those sacrifices. and not only is he worthless, he’s also a traitor. just like she is. a traitor to his homeland who can’t turn back now, but who refuses to stop trying. and we all know how pomegranate cookie feels about fate.

with him, it’s not just a matter of dealing with another one of her annoying, incompetent coworkers. it’s personal.

the past infects the present, and he keeps forgetting his place.

#cookie run #pomegranate cookie #dark choco cookie #abuse mention #wow another mile long fucking thinkpiece from mal about pomegranate cookie what else is now #new #fuck

[lilpunkrock]

where you go (i will go) — part v

Summary: The Dream Lord leads you to a pocket in time where your partnership begins. A visit from a most unwelcome guest presents you with an ultimatum. 

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x f!reader

Words: 6.0k+

AN: I swear, every time I think to myself, “This is going to be a shorter chapter,” the words just keep on flowing. Thank you all so much for the love you have shown parts i-iv. Your kind words and theories fuel my fire!! I truly appreciate you all so much, and I hope you enjoy! 

series masterlist // mood board // ao3

. . . 

“Falling somewhere in between what I loved and wanted, 

Losing everything I need, falling to the start and, 

Then you came out of the dark while the world is spinning, 

Round, round, round.”

Spinning, With Confidence

. . . 

part v

Darkness.

You’re floating in darkness, a sea of inky black. All-consuming, all-encompassing, absolute.

Rather than intimidating, you find it comforting. Floating in this space, relishing in your weightlessness, your heart twinges slightly with the far-off feeling that something is wrong. Wasn’t something wrong just a moment ago? No, that doesn’t make sense. How could anything be wrong when you feel this free? 

A presence draws near you. It feels warm, welcoming, kind. “Oh, bother. Not another one. Sibling, you’ve begun to go too far.”

You know that voice. Haven’t you heard it before? Yes, you swear you have, a long, long time ago . . . 

There’s a gentle pull at something in your chest. Coaxing, calling. “Come on, now, love. It’s time to go.”

You would be safe with her, happy. You can sense it in the sweet timber of her voice, in her motherly, caring aura. The very marrow of your bones, some secret script written into your soul, tells you to sink deeper into the darkness and fly away with her. But something undeniably human holds you back. No, you cry out, voiceless. Not yet. I’m not ready. I can’t leave him.

Her sigh washes over you like a morning breeze. “Oh, love. Don’t you see what’s happened? …No, I suppose not. Love can blind you.” A pause. You feel her pity swaddle you like a blanket. It makes you want to cry tears of relief and self-loathing simultaneously. “Come on, now. You’ll be safe with me.”

That coaxing feeling in your chest rises again. In the darkness, with barely a sense of self, there’s seemingly nothing you can do to quell it. Unsure of how to ground yourself here, you submit to whatever awaits you. 

But then, the feeling stops.

“Kindly Ones,” the woman breathes.

. . . 

When you emerge from Morpheus’s cloak to find yourself standing on a new section of Dream Country’s dark shoreline, the admission comes to you unbidden. “I must say, I could get used to traveling via ‘cosmos cloak.’”

The Endless at your side sweeps said cloak closed gracefully, a sky full of stars retreating within it. Unlike the shoreline you watched him craft dreams and nightmares on for most of the day, your current section of beach is far from the palace and its bright lights. You can barely spot the soft glow that they cast on the sky from their place miles beyond the mountain ranges lining the beach. Here, the midnight sky seems to soak down toward you, saturating the scene in darkness, blanketing the beach in shadows. If it weren’t for his pale complexion, Morpheus would blend right into the sands. “Is that so?” he asks with the slightest quirk of his brow. 

“It is. I’ve always been a little partial to the night. The stars, constellations, galaxies . . . there’s innumerable stories up there just waiting to be created, told, and heard. Watching them, thinking about them—it’s magical and humbling. It’s calming to me.” Your mind wanders over all your nights spent gazing out your bedroom window, retelling the histories of constellations in your head, crafting fables for those whose stories had not yet been written. Pushing off your resting hours just a little longer.

“An unexpected pastime for a goddess whose realm is, in essence, an interminable rainbow.” 

It’s the closest he’s come to making a semblance of a joke since you met—maybe the closest he’s ever come to making a semblance of a joke, you think—and a laugh bubbles up from within you. There is much about me you might not expect, you think dryly, but keep to yourself. Instead, you ask, “So, is this it? The most powerful place in the Dreaming?” 

“Not quite,” the Dream Lord replies. “We shall walk from here.” He beckons you down toward the waterline, and you follow. As you draw near the waves, a new shape comes into view: A narrow wooden walkway. The dock stretches on and on, disappearing into a luminescent nebula of teal and lavender mist that you now spot in the distance. The fog seems to glow from within, casting the sky above it in cool shades of blue, green, and purple.

Morpheus strides onto the dock without hesitation, black boots padding against the wooden slats quietly. A part of you wonders how old this walkway is. If it’s the most powerful location in the Dreaming, you imagine it's liable to have been here since the land’s conception. In spite of its undoubtedly ancient age, the wood gives only the softest of creaks when your canvas sneakers tentatively settle on the first board. Relieved that they don’t bow, you quicken your pace to catch up with Morpheus. 

The two of you walk in silence for several minutes. As the shoreline fades behind you and the luminescent fog draws nearer, you note that the quiet sounds of Dream Country have faded to nothing. The world around you is utterly silent save for the soft padding of your feet on the dock and the whisper of the waves swaying around you. The back of your neck prickles with the distinct sensation that secrets lurk beyond the water’s surface. 

“What is this place?” you say when your curiosity grows too great. As you do, movement catches the corner of your eye—a bright flash of color beneath the surface of the water. You turn your head quickly, only to find nothing but your startled reflection staring back at you. You blink several times, unsure of yourself, but nothing changes. 

“The most powerful location in the Dreaming. The place where the veil between the Dreaming and the Waking World is at its thinnest.” The fluorescent mist before you seems to reach toward Morpheus’s form, cutting his lithe, dark figure in sharp relief. As he walks, one hand trails off to his side. You swear the rippling of the waves mimics the slow sway of his fingers, following his lead. But maybe your eyes are playing more tricks on you. “These waters are a tangible extension of my own self. They facilitate my passage to the Waking World when I desire it. More importantly, they contain the collective unconscious of the universe. This is where humans’ dreams reside and occur in real time.” 

Your lips part in awe at his admission, your mind at a loss for a reply. And there it is again—that flash of color in the water beside you. You stop abruptly, crouching to peer into the dark waves below the dock. Squinting, you finally spot it—a smear of gold swimming beneath the waves, its form blurred at the edges by the dark water. It’s far enough below the surface that you can’t distinguish what it is at first. Then, a single shape begins to approach the surface, its form sharpening at the edges. A hand. Mesmerized, your own hand reaches out instinctively, your fingers stretching toward one another—

“I would suggest you refrain from interacting with these waters alone. The dreams and nightmares within them respond only to their master.” Morpheus’s cool baritone cuts through your trance like a blade, and you pull your hand back abruptly. When you blink, the hand and golden form you’re certain you saw is gone. Only an almost imperceptible ripple on the water’s surface remains. 

You shake your head to dispel the last remnants of your daze and rise to your feet hastily, quickening your pace to catch up to Morpheus. In the time swallowed up by your trance, he’s almost reached the mist. “If they only respond to you, how am I going to influence them?” you ask, craning your neck to peer at his placid expression. You silently curse the dock for not being wide enough for two. 

Morpheus tilts his head slightly, but doesn’t turn. “These waters and the dreams within them are my creation. If I permit your influence, they shall respond in kind.” 

A weighty feeling settles over your shoulders at his words. Responsibility. Not just to execute your own function, but to do justice through his. Caught in the crosshairs between feeling flattered and petrified, your mouth goes dry, your tongue like sandpaper. For so long, you had chosen to avoid inserting yourself into the affairs of other deities, let alone the Endless. Sure, you had spoken with Death from time to time throughout the ages, but that was different. This was a partnership. Walking into this new situation, you feel entirely unprepared. 

In spite of this, when Morpheus disappears into the thick mist hovering over the dock, you follow without hesitation.

Stepping into the mist is like stepping into another world entirely. Dream Country feels far behind as you drink in your new surroundings. Chilled shades of teal and lavender swirl in lazy patterns around you, cradling this pocket of ocean you’ve stepped into like hands cradling a globe. Looking at this new scene up close, you realize that the colors swirling around you are not merely a mist. No, they’re something otherworldly, something nebulous—ethereal gossamers of stardust. Beyond the luminous shades of blue, purple, and green lies a pitch black sky. Stars scatter through it like spilled glitter. Thin wisps of fog ghost over the waters surrounding you. And just ahead, in the center of this suspended globe, is the end of the dock. 

When he reaches it, Morpheus stops. You slow to stand just behind him. 

Standing in the most powerful location in the Dreaming, you take note of just how amplified Morpheus’s power is here. The air itself feels like a living creature—rippling, churning, electrified. You breathe in deeply, savoring the hum of the air as it spills into your lungs, seeking to calm your hammering heart. When you had first concocted your plan to work with the Dream Lord to combat Desire, only a small part of you had believed it might actually be possible. From speaking to Death, to entering Morpheus’s throne room, to introducing him to your function, doubt had shadowed your mind every step of the way. Would he really say yes? And even if he did, would a feat like this even be possible? Though your functions often overlapped with other deities, you’d never truly collaborated with one before. Combining your abilities to create something new. To stand at the edge of this dock was to stand on the precipice of something vast and unknown.

“Are you sure this is really possible?” you ask. Your voice is tight with emotion, barely above a whisper. 

Morpheus stills for a moment, then slowly turns. Wisps of teal and purple stardust swirl in his eyes as they rest on you. “You are a guest of the Dreaming, in the presence of Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless.” His voice is low and soft, assured. When he speaks, the world around you seems to hold its breath. “In my Realm, all things are possible.” 

You exhale slowly, and the air sighs with you. Your stammering heart slows. “Okay,” you say quietly. Seeking to shed your insecurity under his confident gaze, you set your shoulders back and raise your chin. Grounding yourself. Louder, you say it again, “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Morpheus dips his head in acknowledgement. “Who will be the first?” 

You fish in your pocket for your list of daily assignments. As you unfold the Fates’ papers, your eyes search for names glowing with red and white halos. Eros and philia attachments. The bonds receiving the most unwanted attention from Desire. Your gaze settles on the first pairing you see, a set of names you remember very well from your visit to them earlier today. “Cole Hart and Rose Martinez. Both of Emerald Isle.” 

Morpheus’s unruly hair skims his eyelashes as he turns toward the water and bows his head. You watch as his eyes flit back and forth behind his closed eyelids, searching for something. After a moment, they still. 

When the Dream Lord turns his palms upward and slowly raises his arms, the sea responds in kind. A soft gasp escapes you as the waves just beyond the dock begin to shift their course. They swirl slowly, drawing themselves upward at Morpheus’s behest until two spheres of water hover within arm’s reach of you. Stray droplets slide off the orbs, plipping softly against the dock and the toes of your sneakers. Mesmerized, you lean forward, peering curiously at the movement you spy within the spheres. Flashes of color, blurs, shapes, scenes—dreams, you realize. Playing out in real time before you.

Your hand reaches out unbidden, palm resting against the curved surface of the sphere on your right. The feeling is no different than placing your palm on an ocean’s surface, the cool water lapping gently against your hand. And yet, you know this is so much more significant. This is a living mortal unconscious in the palm of your hand. You’re cradling their safe haven from the Waking World, the place where they delight in fantasy and delve into their deepest fears. A warm, soft feeling grips your heart at the thought. Humbling captures its essence best, though even that description seems to come up short. You wonder if Dream Lord ever drew up your own unconscious from the depths when you were . . .

“They are ready for you.” You lick your lips nervously, giving Morpheus a quick nod in response. Your left hand rises to rest on the sphere of water to your left. You swallow thickly as a mix of terror and exhileration surges through you. This is the moment. It is time to create a new way, a new function. 

You close your eyes, dipping your head in concentration. As you inhale deeply, a warm feeling alights on your chest. With it comes a sense of familiarity, comfort, and relief. You’d know that feeling anywhere. You’d only ever felt it - your capabilities, your function, your power - in the Realm of Attachment. And yet, here you were, channeling that power in the Dreaming. You exhale slowly, zeroing in on the feeling, nurturing it. The sensation responds in kind, growing larger, burning brighter, and you channel it outward, through you, into the air around you. The perpetual hum of power radiating from Morpheus intensifies as your own mingles with it.

Your attention shifts from the warmth coursing through you to the dreamers in the palms of your hands. Hello, you greet them. A tingling sensation ripples through you as their hearts call out to you in return. Ah, that’s it—Cole is in your left hand, and Rose is in your right. 

You first focus your attention on Rose’s unconscious. In your mind's eye, you imagine Cole’s features from this morning when you had traveled to Emerald Isle to foster their eros attachment. Curly brown hair, grass green eyes, fingertips calloused from rigging fishing lures. You imagine yourself plucking his toothy grin from the center of your mind and placing it gently in Rose’s. Warmth crashes through you like a tidal wave. 

Next, you turn your mind to Cole’s. Rose’s features flit through your thoughts in a montage: Hair as dark as Morpheus’s, sun-kissed skin, fingertips skimming effortlessly across piano keys in her band class. A smile graces your lips as you feel a tingle pass from your chest through to your fingertips.

When you’re finished, you find yourself holding your eyes closed a moment longer, hesitant to see what lies on the other side. Did it work? you wonder. There’s only one way to find out. 

After several quiet moments, you succumb to your curiosity. A breathless laugh escapes you as your eyes settle on Rose’s sun-kissed face smiling from within Cole’s unconscious, then Cole’s toothy grin beaming from within Rose’s.

A tingling, out-of-body feeling ripples through you as your breathless laughter grows louder, bubbling up from somewhere deep within you. Maker, you hadn’t felt something emerge from that space in a long time. For the first time since your rebirth, you had created something that was your own. Something outside the explicit laws of your function. Something new. 

You felt like you could faint. You felt like you could fly. 

Beaming with radiant, unbridled delight, you turn to the Dream Lord, who has said nothing yet. You find him staring intently at the visages you have placed in the minds of Cole and Rose, his eyes flickering back and forth between the spheres, his rosebud lips almost imperceptibly parted. You lean forward slightly, hoping to draw his attention, but he remains fixated. Is it possible that, in spite of his earlier comment, even he is taken aback that this has occurred? Or perhaps he is simply as enamored by this opportunity to create something new as you are?

When the Dream Lord draws in a breath, you wonder if he’s going to tell you. Wonder if, perhaps, you’ve finally begun to make a chip in his armor. But then his captivated gaze eases, and the suspense in the air dissipates. “And the next?” he rasps. 

Still, you smile.

…

By the time you’ve placed the last image of lovers and soulmates in the minds of dreamers this evening, your mind is reeling and your brow is damp with sweat. You heave a hefty sigh and run your fingers through your hair as Morpheus lowers the final two spheres of unconsciousness back into the Dreaming’s sea. Though your body aches for rest, your own temporary retreat from the demands of consciousness, you can’t deny how unbelievably alive you feel. Your body feels like a tuning fork, your very bones singing with glee at the opportunity to do and create. Your mind careens with a heady mixture of exhaustion, euphoria, and relief. The runner’s high at the end of a marathon. You feel you could subsist on this feeling alone until the end of your days. Until the end of the Endless. 

You did it, Love. You did it. 

“Well, that made for a good night’s work. We got through my entire list of eros and philia attachments for today.” You sigh contentedly as you fold said list and slip it into your pocket. You peer at Morpheus curiously as you do. His stare remains directed toward the waters of the Dreaming, disheveled hair obscuring his eyes from your view. As the silence stretches on, you venture a step closer to him. “What do you think? Of how things went?” you ask. 

Morpheus studies the waters for a moment longer before turning to you. When your eyes meet, you find yourself studying the lazy swirling pattern of teal and lavender stardust reflected in them. You’ve noticed that the nebulous haze and the midnight sky beyond do not seem to change in this place. Though you know you must have been out here for hours, the sky hasn’t darkened or brightened, nor have the stars shifted. This pocket of the universe is truly a space trapped in time. 

Morpheus’s reply is low and measured. “It appears our collaboration has been successful. It will be necessary, of course, to observe the humans in the Waking World to know with certainty.” 

You nod, trailing closely after Morpheus as he begins to make his way back down the dock, toward the shore. “Of course. When I made my rounds this morning, I orchestrated their relationships to all begin within the next few days. I’ll keep a close eye on each of them to see if the attachment goes as planned and to see if Desire stays away from them.”

Morpheus nods in response as you approach the edge of the mist. As you pass through it, you reach out your hand, twirling stardust between your fingers like threads of silk. When you emerge on the other side, you spot the shoreline in the far distance, the dark sands illuminated beneath the Dreaming’s full moon. Admittedly, after a long night of work, it makes for a sight for sore eyes. 

“Thank you,” you say suddenly, quietly. 

Morpheus does not pause in his walking. “What might you be thanking me for?” he asks. 

“For everything. For saying yes to helping me. For encouraging me tonight. For allowing me permission to step into your world. For not belittling me for being a goddess in need when you are an Endless.” One corner of your mouth turns upward in a wistful grin. “If I’m being honest, before I met you, I assumed you would. Tell me no, or belittle me, I mean. I know that seems unkind, but save for your sister, I don’t have the best experience with Endless. I’m very grateful that things didn’t go as I expected.” 

Morpheus continues walking in silence. Rather than awkward or loaded, you find the quiet . . . comfortable. You’re growing accustomed to his lengthy pauses and lack of responses. Though seemingly rude upon first examination, you’re starting to feel that they are more contemplative than ill-mannered. In a world where everyone’s first instinct is to fill the silence, the Dream Lord seems to welcome it. Perhaps he really was taking Lucienne’s words to heart and working on becoming a more adept listener. 

Of course, you’d been wrong in your judgment of character before. It wasn’t something you intended on doing again. Unraveling the mystery of Dream of the Endless would be an exercise in patience. If you were to be working together, it was an endeavor you were committed to undertaking.

The silence stretches on long enough that you assume he doesn’t intend to respond. Just as your mind starts to wander, however, Morpheus’s baritone cuts through your thoughts. “You need not thank me for my encouragement,” he says, each word articulated, deliberate. “Do not doubt your divinity. You were capable of completing what occurred tonight even prior to my comments. My words did not dictate that.” 

You roll your eyes half-heartedly, a small smile playing on your lips. Leave it to tall, dark, and broody to not simply accept a compliment. 

The two of you walk in silence the rest of the way to the shoreline. When your sneakers sink into the sand, you breathe a sigh of relief. Maker, now that your adrenaline is winding down, it hits you just how in need of a recharge you really are. Though you don’t look forward to what awaits you in your unconscious, you’re hopeful that you might feel some semblance of rest when you exit it in the morning. “So, I was thinking that we might want to do this nightly. After all, I do get a new list of assignments each day, and Desire works quickly.” You stretch your arms over your head, eager for the comforting feeling of crawling into bed after a long day’s work. “Would that work for you?” 

“That will be acceptable,” Morpheus replies. 

“Wonderful. I suppose I’m ready to go home, then.” Your eyes skim over the beach before they come to rest on him. “Will Matthew be coming to take me back? Or will you be sending me home?”

The Dream Lord’s posture is stiff and authoritative as he says, “You will not be departing quite yet.” 

Your eyebrows jump in surprise. “Oh? Is that so?”

“Yes.” The word slips past his pouted lips with emphasis, an insistence characteristic of someone accustomed to getting what they want. The Dream Lord takes a step closer to you, his dark figure framed by the star-speckled sky behind him. “When I visited your Realm, I informed you of a set of questions I had. Now that you are in my Realm, I intend to ask them.” 

A tired chuckle escapes you as your shoulders slump. “Come on, Dream Lord. It’s late. Perhaps another time?” 

His expression makes no change at your plea, his eyes boring into you intently. Maker, he was stubborn. With a sigh, you concede, saying, “Fine. But only one question—“ 

“No—“ 

“—and I’ll answer the rest another time.” When his expression still refuses to budge, you lift your chin, channeling an authority of your own. “I promise,” you say. 

The Dream Lord’s eyebrows furrow in frustration. His lips purse as his jaw works itself, chewing on your proposition. You hold his gaze firmly. As Dream of the Endless, you imagine he was used to having his way. If the partnership between you was to be effective, he would need to learn the art of compromise. 

After a drawn-out moment, Morpheus speaks. “I have existed since the dawn of the first thought. Throughout the ages, many gods and goddesses have abandoned their functions and realms when humanity presented them with challenges. Be it a decline in faith, displeasure with their subjects’ worship, or humans’ blatant disregard for the desires of their gods, countless have allowed themselves to succumb to myth in response to humanity’s opposition.” He pauses, his words hanging in the air between you. “Why do you continue?”

What inspires the one who spends all his time inspiring others? Your own words replay in your mind as his question seeps into you. You draw in a shuddering breath, unsure of what to say. Or, more accurately, how much to say. Of course you know why you continue. Your conviction is a brand upon your heart, something you are reminded of every night. A card you have always held close to your chest. 

Morpheus looks at you expectantly. Trust. The word reverberates in your mind. After centuries of seclusion, it is something you are no longer well-versed in. But you know full well that it takes giving trust to earn it. 

You lick your lips nervously as you exhale. Before you can lose your courage, you explain, “I was hurt once. A long time ago. I thought I was in love with him. I thought he loved me. But I was wrong.” You pause, working your jaw, mulling on the weighty truth of your confession. “Even though I was deceived, those moments were pure bliss. I was happy. I want to give others what I loved, but could not keep.” What you could not have. Will never have. You swallow thickly. “Even when it’s hard and ugly. The world needs that feeling. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’m not giving up.” 

Morpheus’s eyes hold yours intently. However, there’s a subtle shift there. Rather than authoritative, this intensity is . . . studious. Perhaps something you’ve said has resonated with him on some level. Surely even an Endless has experienced sacrifice, experienced loss? Your tongue itches to ask, but you bite back your questions. This moment feels fragile, but significant. You don’t wish to break it. 

Several minutes pass in silence. Finally, Morpheus dips his head. “I apologize for keeping you to such a late hour. It has been a long day.” His hand slips into his pocket, emerging a moment later with a palmful of sand. “I shall send you home. Matthew will retrieve you tomorrow evening for another night of work.”

You nod idly, only for an alternative to suddenly cross your mind. You pause, debating on whether to ask this of him. “Actually, would you mind sending Matthew to get me in the morning?” You offer him a small, tentative smile. “I wouldn’t mind having another opportunity to watch you craft for the day. I found it . . . Interesting.”

Morpheus tilts his head ever so slightly, appraising you thoughtfully. Perhaps you’ve asked too much. As he brings the sand to his lips and prepares to blow, you hear him murmur softly, “Indeed, it is.” 

You close your eyes in anticipation as the grains of sand scatter over you. 

. . . 

“Theo! I’m home.” Your voice echoes through your dark, quiet townhome as you slip through the front door. You dip your index finger into the sides of your sneakers, slipping them off on your doormat. Funny—normally Theo would be licking at your ankles right now, his unique way of saying “welcome home.” 

When several more moments pass without hearing the quiet pitter patter of his paws, a pang of unease grips your heart. Something doesn’t seem quite right. “Theo?” you call again, hand fumbling for the light switch by the door. As your fingertips find purchase on it, a velvety voice purrs from the darkness of the living room, “Love, darling. How inhospitable of you to keep a guest waiting.” 

With a flick of your wrist, the lights burst to life. Eyes like molten gold lock yours from their place on your couch. 

There is a sinking feeling within you, like an anchor being thrown overboard. Dragging you down, down, down with it. “Get out,” you whisper, throat closing like a vice. 

Desire of the Endless tuts softly, leisurely rising into a sitting position on your couch. Their eyebrows pinch together in mock offense, but you can see the unbridled glee dancing through their eyes. “What, no ‘Hello? How are you?’ Come on, darling, it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.” Desire’s eyes flit around the room, taking in your modest townhome. Their nose wrinkles with distaste. “Still clinging to old dreams, I see.” 

A surge of emotions roar through you at their indignance. Your jaw tightens. “Get out,” you say again, louder this time. 

Desire’s red lips drop into a plump pout. “Really, Love? You would be so eager to throw me out? After all we’ve been through together?” Your bottom lip wobbles at their words. The sickly sweet grin that Desire shoots you in response sours your stomach. “I just wanted to drop in for a quick little chat. That’s all.” 

Your eyes follow Desire apprehensively as they rise from the couch, stalking toward you with slow, cat-like movements. Desire’s presence has always been off-putting, almost more animal than humanoid. Their approach toward you is lithe, graceful, but you can’t mistake the coiled tension behind each step, the devilish intent lurking behind those grinning lips and bared teeth. There is no mistaking it—this is a predator. 

“I see you’ve been spending time with my dear big brother as of late. An interesting choice by a hermit like yourself.” Desire circles you slowly, skimming one finger over the back of your shoulders. You stiffen under their touch. “Do tell, what are you and Dream up to?” 

You draw in a shuddering breath, seeking to calm your hammering heart. Digging past your anxiety, past your fear at their arrival, you harness your simmering anger instead. “Surely you haven’t paid me a visit just to ask about your brother,” you say, your voice steadier than before. A spark of irritation alights in Desire’s eyes as they circle you again, and you grasp onto it, let it embolden you. “If you want to know about your brother’s affairs, you should ask him yourself. Now, why don’t you tell me—what are you doing here?” 

“You really think I don’t know?” Desire’s voice hisses in your ear abruptly. From behind, their fingers encircle your biceps like talons, fingernails digging into your sleeves like claws. You startle, but breathe in deeply, attempting to retain your composure. “You really think I haven’t seen? I know what you’ve been doing to my precious threads of desire. Seeking to bypass them with your flimsy foretellings is a mistake. One that will cost you.” 

They don’t know. They don’t know what you and Morpheus are doing. Your heart races with a mixture of relief and exhilaration at the realization. For now, Desire thinks you’ve only been bypassing their interference through your attachments. You need to keep it that way. 

“You’re blind, Desire. Don’t you see what you’re doing to them?” you reply, voice tight with thinly veiled anger. “Your influence is getting out of hand. Families are being torn apart. Soulmates and lovers’ paths being skewed, never to cross again. Mortals are even murdering in your name. The scales that we share are becoming completely unbalanced—“ 

“Darling, come now. Don’t fool yourself. You know that is my intention.” Desire’s words pour into your ear like honey, sickeningly sweet. Their lips graze the shell of your ear as they whisper, “I haven’t forgotten what you did to me.” 

Adrenaline spikes through you at their words, hot and striking. As you tear yourself from their grip and stumble away, Desire’s wicked laughter echoes through the room. A prickling surfaces behind your eyes, and you swallow hard. No. Not while they’re still here. 

As you regain your footing, you spin around to find the Endless sauntering toward your front door. Their long, ring-adorned fingers throw it open with fanfare. “Well, darling, I must say—it’s been delightful to see you. You’re getting off with a warning this time, but next time . . . well, I suppose you’ll just have to see.” Desire steps out onto the threshold and into the darkness of night. They stop just shy of pulling the door closed behind them, golden eyes making contact with yours one final time. “You’d do well to let me do as I please, Love. After all, you know just how eager I am to bite when someone gets in my way.” 

The door closes behind them with a resolute click. 

You stand in the center of the living room for a long time, too stunned to move, too rattled to think. The only sound that permeates the air is the shallow huff of your heavy breathing. And then, the quiet plip plip of tears pattering against the hardwood floor. You sink to the wooden panels slowly, crumpling in on yourself, tears spilling hot and fast down your cheeks. You try to think clearly, try to process what just happened to you, but the events rush through your mind in a blur. You cry out in frustration. Too much. It’s all too much. 

After several lonely minutes, you hear the quietclicking of nails against the hardwood floor. Raising your head, you watch as Theo emerges tentatively from the bedroom hallway. His tail is tucked, his ears laid back. When he spots you, his eyes brighten. He pads over to you eagerly.

“Hey, buddy,” you say through choked sobs. You wipe your eyes against the back of your hand and extend it to welcome Theo into your waiting arms. His soft nose nuzzles your cheek before he sets in to licking your fingers, sweeping up the remnants of your sorrow. You chuckle half-heartedly, choking down the warble in your voice. “I love you too, bud.” Your fingers delve to rub that magical spot behind his ears, and your cold heart warms slightly at his pleased expression. “It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

You spend the remainder of the night lying on your bed, hand absentmindedly stroking Theo’s fur, your mind racing down a cluttered freeway of thought. Rest does not find you. 

. . . 

When Matthew taps his pointed beak against your window as dawn breaks over the horizon, you’re already there waiting for him. 

“Oh, hey! Good morning. Wasn’t expecting to see you standing there,” Matthew caws as he steps over the window sill and onto your waiting arm. “I heard that you and the boss had a late night. I’m surprised you wanted me to come get you this early.” He pauses, tilting his feathered head up at you curiously. You feel him observe your red-rimmed eyes, the dark circles hanging beneath them from lack of rest. “Hey . . . are you okay? Is something wrong?” 

You smile softly at his concern. “Yes,” you say quietly. “I’m okay.” Because you are. If your sleepless night of thinking has taught you anything, it’s that you are okay. There is no other choice. You have to be.

Matthew eyes you tentatively, obviously weighing whether or not to press further. After a moment of contemplation, he seems to decide not to. “Okay, then. Well, I’m ready if you are.” His eyes gleam like black pearls in the light of the dawn. “Are you ready to go?” 

You know that to move forward with this is to forfeit any chance of mercy from Desire. To proceed is to commit yourself to war, to throw away your only chance of things returning to the way they were before. Nothing will ever be the same. 

The realization makes your decision even easier. 

“Let’s go.” 

#dream of the endless #the sandman #dream of the endless x reader #dream x reader #morpheus x reader #the sandman x reader #morpheus #dream #dream of the endless x fem!reader #morpheus x fem!reader #dream x fem!reader #the sandman netflix #the sandman fanfic #netflix the sandman #the sandman fanfiction #morpheus imagines #tom sturridge #sandman netflix

[neuroticbookworm]

@respectthepetty first off, that was an amazing deep dive, and I'm so glad that you're as obssessed with these characters as I am. Seriously, how is this show not completely taking over the minds of all BL girlies yet? Get on the clown train, people!

I agree that Lomfon is a fasicnating character, and also a wonderfully complex (pseudo-)antagonist in Patts-Tai storyline. Your analysis on Lomfon is spot on: he is logical, challenges the notion of soulmates and ponders its value over shared interests with the other person.

Soulmates in Rainverse and the analogy to Modern Love

As much as the show revolves around soulmates and the novelty of that experience in the show's universe, it also actively challenges the idea of soulmates and its meaning, via the failed marriage of Tai's parents and Lomfon.

No matter the relationship, there has to be something more than love, a connection, COLORS(!), or a shared condition. There has to be communication, understanding, a desire to stay, AND a desire to see the other person happy.

Yes to all of this. But I want to focus on a commentary in the show that might be subtle, but nonetheless discusses something that is equally important in any relationship.

There are plenty of moments in the show where the brief rain-inflicted hearing loss is framed as a disease and how it is endured by the people who are affected. This sentiment is also reflected by the characters who have the condition, whenever they discuss it on the show

But if we shift the focus to how the rest of the world treats this condition and how they respond to it in their everyday lives, a new perspective emerges.

When we see Patts' friends talking about his hearing loss, this is what they had to say

His friends are worried because they, for a brief period of time, are cut off from Patts and have to go through a extra hurdle to communicate with him at this time. They fear that him having this experience that is so foreign to them, something that they can never relate to, only sympathise with, is isolating Patts.

And when Patts and his gf were fighting, this is what she states as the breaking point

Her inability to share the experience of hearing loss with Patts makes her feel like an outsider. And on top of that, she knows that Patts can share his experience with someone, his soulmate. Even when he reassures her that he has no romantic interest, and that he only wants to talk to his soulmate because he doesn't want them to go through this experience alone, it is not enough to soothe her mind.

All these discussions make me wonder if the show is layering a subtext underneath the soulmate aspect of Rainverse: boundaries in relationships and navigating the reality of sharing a life with someone, who might sometimes have experiences away from you.

It is simply not realistic to spend your every waking moment with the people you love. The life experiences are not always the same, and sometimes, the experiences you want might not interest the other person. This doesn't mean that they are drifting away, it simply means that people have complex lives and multiple interests that doesn't need to be always aligned with their loved ones.

Lomfon and the folly of excessive logic

Yes, Lomfon is logical. He approaches the rain-induced hearing loss and its effects similar to how a scientist would do it: hard facts. And in result, he brings in some very valid arguments to the entire concept of soulmates.

But. But.

In having a one-track mind laser focused on challenging and disproving the soulmates theory, he has already failed at one of the most important parts of any relationship, soulmate or otherwise: open and honest communication. If we assume that Lomfon is the acquaintance who helped Tai through the difficult times of his parents' divorce, then he has established a communcation with Tai that is severely lopsided.

Also, given how he is already establishing himself as someone who has a lot of similar interests with Tai, he has immersed himself into the "must have common interests" part of the love equation, while fully ignoring the "must give them space to have differing experiences" part.

And this is why I don't trust him. I don't trust him to come to his senses quick enough before he causes a whole lot of hurt. I recently went down a Myers-Biggs personality test rabbit hole and I'm convinced that Lamfon is a INTJ (logical, plans ahead, heavy reluctance in acknowledging the intelligence of other people, difficulty in factoring in the feelings and emotions of the people around them into whatever calculation is currently running in their brain, etc). So when the tension in the group finally boils over, and someone (possibly Tien) sits him down to explain why his elaborate flowchart to win Tai's heart might not be his best idea, I'm afraid that he will simply stick his snob nose up in the air and ignore them.

I am aware that I'm watching a BL and so the chances of a genuinely sad ending is extremely low, and yet, whenever I see this boy, my heart fears.

woah that's a lot of words, apologies if you made it this far

#la pluie #la pluie the series #Lomfon is a INTJ snob #that's the TLDR

[evelili]

Okay I’ve been reading more of your magnum opus fic (one chapter. help they keep destroying me emotionally) and I have highlighted a solid THIRTY SEVEN lines from the fic so far so I thought I should write a like. halfway(?) through comment for you so they don’t get too long! I’m really enjoying your characterization of everyone and the pacing is fantastic. The focus on the trials of the main six is amazing and really allows you to build all of their characters individually then together. Like for applejacks chapter it was focused on her but then now with this flashback in pinkie pie’s chapter it gives a lot of context for her and rainbow’s relationship and how they’ve grown which I love!!

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I’m pretty sure this textbook is older than me. A quick peek at the publication page under the cover confirmed her theory. It’s even older than Shining!

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Okay this was the first line I ever highlighted and it’s just because I was so… idk i really love how you show this dynamic between twilight and her family and how they all rely on each other. I’m very curious about twilights nightmare prophecy dream and if we’ll ever see Shining Armor or Cadence again and maybe how they’ll react to the events of the story!

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“Hope I didn’t bother you much.”

Shoot shoot shoot, say something, Sparkle! You’re being weird again! “No, you weren’t bothering me.” Yes! Good! “No one really talks to me, so I guess it was kind of nice.” No!

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This scene was SUPER funny I really like how you’re able to write these quick, witty exchanges that feel like the characters from the show with a more mature feel to it

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Twilight hated being pitied. Being such a pitiful person.

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I really like this line here. You’ve mastered this style of like… having twilight think something then INSTANTLY switching what it means cause with the first sentence I’d imagine it was her disliking others and how they act when they pity her but the second sentence IMMEDIATELY recontextualizes it into her hating HERSELF. It’s brilliant

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It felt like Sunset—strong and steady and warm.

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I really love how you wrote Sunset and Twilight during the first act their friendship feels so easy and so difficult as well just because twilight doesn’t know how to deal with someone new that she hasn’t perfectly learned how to avoid from knowing them since grade school, like she doesn’t know her and it makes all of their interactions feel like they’re trying SO HARD to learn who the other is and it just feels like such a genuinely high school experience I love how you write this

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The ice was back, though not as blatant as before. It hid between Celestia’s words, biting at her consonants and the breaths she took between.

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This description took my breath away. You really have this way with words of describing characteristics and mannerisms in ways that manages to completely blindside me and it just makes reading your story so exhilarating. I never know what’s coming and I adore it for that!

I’m gonna cut this one off here cause it’s already fairly long and I am NOT sending a 5000 word ask on tumblr so I’ll probably send more later but holy shit I need to mention this. The way you end all the chapters of the story by focusing on how twilights outlook on science and magic and friendship is shifting slowly with every experience is amazing and it makes me feel so happy and excited everytime I get to the end of the chapter!!

Also you mentioned a 30k epilogue in my last ask and uh. oh my god. I’m very excited for that!! AND ANOTHER THING. Your art is absolutely STUNNING. I love reading a chapter and then looking at the art. The art for the applejack chapter is so amazing, the composition just blows me away and I love how you choose to do this black and white, almost sort of painting-esque look to all of them. AND I JUST SAW THE ONE FOR FLUTTERSHYS OH MY GOD. Twilights head coming out of its mouth… fluttershy with the stake… AND THE PINKIE PIE ONE? (Sorry I downloaded the fic so none of the images carried over so you’re getting my live “WHAT THE FUCKKKKK” reaction to all of these) THE BALLOONS??? COVERING TWILIGHT?? BECAUSE SHES ASHAMED AND HIDING HER PAIN BEHIND A SMILE? AND DOESNT WANT ANYONE TO FIND OUT?? AND PINKIE PIE WITH A SINGLE BALLOON WITHOUT A SMILE AND HER EYES HIDDEN AUGHHHHHH

Love this!!!

hi yes hello i think ive finally collected myself enough to figure out how to respond to this!! first of all: thank u so much again for ur indepth thoughts!!! like holy shit it rlly makes me so happy to get comments like this u will not believe ldksfjlksdfkff

focusing specifically on the ice line w celestia u highlighted, that's actually one of the ones im most proud of in the entire fic! it was rlly fun to work w some alliteration nd i think the flow/rhythm of it turned out rlly nice, and im glad that you liked it too :D

honestly, to me writing is pretty much the same as drawing, just instead of like colours and shit u gotta think of the shapes of letters and sounds of words and the rhythm of sentences blending together yknow? and if i had any advice to give, instead of "colour picking" like in art, i like to "word pick" or "concept pick" instead, basically take a phrase or idea from a previous sentence / para and reuse it in another context (like another part of the canvas almost). it's a bit of an abstract way to think but it works for my brain so maybe it can work for u too, or anyone else reading this xd

and im so glad u like the art!! i didn't realize that downloading the epub from fimfic removes the art, which i guess means anyone who read c12 + the epilogue in epub rather than on the site missed out on some key stuff dkfjsdlfjdkf not to mention all the chapter cards, oopsie. maybe ill update the authors note or smth if i remember too (she said, like a liar who definitely wont)

actually, i went with the bw style bc a) colour theory sucks but also b) it works well for printing physical copies lol. ik some other ponyfics have done physical runs, so maybe if i ever get time ill learn how to put all that together (and that way ppl definitely dont miss out on the art xd)

i guess to end it off, the point u made abt shining, it was rlly important to me to show his nd twilight's dynamic as smth supportive! im an older sibling (not by much tho), so i tried to write from the perspective of what an imaginary older brother might be like for me. since i imagine shining a lot older than twi (if she's ~17, i imagine he's mid-twenties), maybe he's a bit of an uncle-like figure / trusted adult too, rather than just an older brother. but im not rlly sure! have a doodle regardless, and i hope you enjoy the rest of the story!

#tte #lili talking #my art #mlp fanfic #also a bit of writing advice if u squint lol #twilight sparkle #scitwi #shining armor #mlp shining armor

[snarkylinda]

I should be studying, showering, sleeping, doing literally anything else but instead, I am going to do a long post about a mentally ill blorbo because I am mentally ill myself.

SO! We all make fun of Spencer let me take my vest off and lower my gun for no reason Reid, it's a meme at this point- but that....tendency is a consequence of what I find the most fascinating about his character as a whole....his relationships- or more like, the relationships he makes up in his head.

Before I go into details I want to leave something very clear that anyone that has seen even one season of the funny cop show has noticed: Spencer is highly obsessive.

Now I am not talking about his fun little facts or that he likes star streak and doctor who obsession- those are hyperfixations, and even tho MY hyperfixation it's ruining my life, his are actually harmless and overall make him happy.

His obsessive nature had almost cost him his career, if not his life, multiple times.

If you stop to think about it in depth, why does Reid abandon all common sense when it comes to certain UnSubs, certain cases? well the most evident answer is that he projects whatever trauma of the week they decide to explore onto them- and yes, that is the nick of things. He pulled that stunt on Elephant's memory because he related to Owen's harassment story, he wanted to help Nathan because he understood being afraid of your own mind turning against you, he wanted to help Adam because he couldn't save Tobias. You get the drill- but....that is not always the case.

With the guy that Lindsey's dad murdered- Spencer didn't relate to him, he was just a piece of shit. How about Samantha? (I know there is a theory about William....doing shit to Reid when he was younger and while I can see it, for the sake of argument I will take her case into consideration) The father of the victim on "Identity"? I can name another example but this one I am going to save for last since it's the reason for me making this post-

And one can argue "Well, he is just a really nice guy" and while that is true- what I named before doesn't always apply, Spencer's compassion has a very clear, marked limit.

His relationships.

When Cyrus was killed in front of him by Morgan, Reid barely blinked- hell, he fucking SASSED him. Why? because he hurt Emily.

All sympathy he could have had for Cat before she ruined his life DESPITE kind of empathizing with her story based on what HE was going through went out of the window because she and her lil gang terrorized Penelope for months.

He felt compassion for Adam, but not for his father who he claimed was the true monster of this story in the aftermath.

When Maeve told her her ex was dead, he quickly brushed that aside to ask her if SHE was alright.

And ofc, we all know what happened in prison after his friend there was murdered.

Reid is often associated with UnSubs not only because of how his backstory aligned with their motivations (mental health issues, bullying, absent parent, losing a loved one) but because most of these crimes are passional responses- and Spencer can be extremely passional, to a point where it clouds his judgment.

Now...you might be thinking "ok that is all nice and good, but where does the obsession come into play? all that I know is that he is a cinnamon roll that loves his friends and has some really deep projection issues he really needs to work on" and you are not wrong, but what made me make this fucking thesis in the first place its something else....one of my favorite things to analyze about fictional characters in this kind of setting it's "the needs of one vs the greater good" thing.

Now let's be fr, we all as human beings will always, ALWAYS prioritize those close to us over literal strangers. Even among the best, most empathic people that is just how it is, that emotional hierarchy will always be there- what differentiates us is how much it affects our actions.

Now with a job like this, there will always be this conflict among the menbers- obviously, their families and even each other will always be a priority, but on working hours their focus HAS to be on doing their job, following the rules and just being as professional as humanly possible- even tho it sometimes kills them inside since it just doesn't feels right.

Reid actually doesn't face this debate that much- because all common sense, respect for authority and protocol goes out of the fucking window whenever he obsesses over a new blorbo lmao.

Had you heard the phrase "One death is a tragedy, a hundred is a statistic"? nothing rings more true that with Dr. Reid right here. He is able to keep his cool while touching mangled corpses and discussing all the shit that happened to them- occasionally looking horrified if it's messed up enough, but other than that he is able to keep the same level of professionalism and compartmentalization as his co-workers.

Annnnnnd then he gets to know a victim, a witness, or an unsub and the vest leaves his torso, his gun folds itself and his IQ lowers. Alot.

Let's get back to the example I put of the guy that was murdered by Lindsey's dad- in that moment he wasn't a murderer to Reid, in that moment all he saw was a teenager begging for his life and HE could be the only to save him- he couldn't. He obsessed over that instead of what the guy did and that lead him to desire to insert Diluid inside of him after 10 months of sobriety, not to mention being A BIG factor in what he does on Elephant's Memory.

"I thought I could save this one" was his response when Hotch scolded him.

Spencer literally can't forget shit. So he tries to make sure that when he knows someone, even if is on a dying moment like the mentioned UnSub, he can save them. He forms some kind of bond with someone and they stop being an face and a name adhered to his board that he is determined to save/get justice for because is his literal job and he is overall a good person. In his mind, it becomes his responsibility whenever that person it's saved, and when that crosses over obsessive territory and his job, that makes it mandatory to always put the need of the many vs the one (especially if it's an unsub) well....

It's when he spiral and puts his career/the case in jeopardy at best, and his life at worst, no to mention what that shit does to his already questionable mental health.

In the second ep of the tenth season, Reid confesses to Morgan that after killing the LDSK, it suddenly hit him and he obsessed over all the "what ifs", at that moment that guy wasn't the LDSK that almost got him, his boss and a hospital full of mortal hostages in danger- he was the man that Spencer Reid killed- and it only ended when he stopped obsessed over HIM and started to put his victim's faces on his wall, forcing his focus on them instead.

He was more focused on the father of the victim on "identity" than the actual unsub himself because years before he had stopped him from seeing his daughter, and had made enough of an impact to be remembered by him in the present. Thanks to that bond, that little relationship, Spencer was able to put himself between a highly emotional distraught father's gun and the man he wanted to kill, to protect him.

He didn't get to personally know Samantha until the end- but he got to meet the scumbag that raped her. Add that to the already soft spot he has for children and you have a very angry Reid ready to do literally anything to make sure this woman that didn't even knew him was safe.

And ironically enough, what prompt me to do this thesis wasn't even one of those nice touchy feeling moments Spencer had with someone he bonded over- either personally or on a parasocial level- but one where he was wrong, but was about to risk a whole case over it. Rock Creek Park.

In that episode, Spencer and this other girl are keeping watch over this mafia thing so this politician guy's wife cane come back (as you can see I pay attention to certain scenes more that others lmao) and you can see the exact moment where the mission....stops being Spencer's priority.

After hearing this girl's conversation with her mother, she stopped being "the maid" and became someone Spencer's "knows" and so this leads to....this

....why did I bother with that text block when this scene spills it out- Anyways.

I dunno why but Rossi's reaction always sends me to the stratosphere- he knows.

Anyways, turns out that the helpless maid was actually on it all along and Reid almost throws the entire case off over nothing- *slows clap*

Ok ok, this might seem like I am slandering my boy but as fun as it is to make fun of him, this is exactly why I love him. This recklessness as a result of tunnel vision it's....concerning considering his line of work, and his eagerness to go far and beyond for someone he barely knows just because he knows them, above everything else and he is there, and can't bare the thought of not doing anything for them., to have their death's imprinted on his memory.

In conclusion- he ain't lawful good/neutral like the first few episodes want to make you think, he is chaotic good. And a mess. And I love him.

#criminal minds #spencer reid

[absolutebl]

Hi! Sorry in advance for how long this post is going to be. I have so many things to ask.

I'm mostly obsessed with Thai BLs at the moment, but I do want to diversify, so what are the top recommendations for Korean, Japanese and Taiwanese? I don't like too much angst or conflict. As in, I could barely get through series like Theory of Love and Never Let Me Go.

Your BL linguistics and honourifics posts helped me a lot when I was but a newbie in this world. Ah, good times. Anyways. What I wanted to ask is, taking inspiration from, and with (credited) reference to your posts, can i make a post of my own? It will only be on Thai. I just want to compile all the things I've learnt so far.

I was sniffing around MyDramaList (for reasons) and found Water Boyy. Is it worth watching? Also, Boys over Flowers (F4 version). I really don't want to watch het romance unless it's really, really good.

You don't have to answer this, it's just for my own curiosity. I'm thinking of making a EarthMix TharnType AU with role reversal. So far I have Mix as Tharn, Earth as Type (yes, i got the idea from Love by Chance), Tay or New as Thorn (Tong is so much better as Tankhun. Also, in this, Thorn is also ver gay, hence TayNew), Love or Film as Thanya, and of course, the crowning gem, Neo Trai as Techno. Question is, who should I cast as Lhong (better if its GMMTV since i know them best, but other agencies are also good.)

Last but definitely not least, I respect you a lot. And i love your blog. Irrelevant, but I wanted to ask, how was today's Boss and Babe (ep. 4)?

Moving on from Thai BL

1a. I'm mostly obsessed with Thai BLs at the moment, but I do want to diversify, so what are the top recommendations for Korean, Japanese and Taiwanese?

Sure thing. Read the descriptions of my top 10, they will let you know how soft the different dramas are. (I like soft and sweet a lot myself, so there are always many in there).

This one needs to be updated, I added quite a few more to my 9/10 list for Korea since then. But with Our Dating Sim and The New Employee this year is going to require it to be updated AGAIN. (Both highly recommended for your needs)

This one is mostly up to date.

This one is totally up to date.

Low Angst, Low Conflict, Soft BL

1b. I don't like too much angst or conflict. As in, I could barely get through series like Theory of Love and Never Let Me Go.

Here are some lists for ya:

Don't watch Waterboyy.

3a. I was sniffing around MyDramaList (for reasons) and found Water Boyy. Is it worth watching?

NO. Avoid all versions. It's terrible. I mean, if you are completest you have to but otherwise... NO.

Boys over Flowers is gross

3b. watch F4?

I am sorry to all the stans out there, but I LOATHE this franchise. I've watch a number of them, always hoping a new remake will make it palatable. NO. I hate all of them. All the worst tropes of a reverse harem. I am intersted (like Twilight) in understanding WHY it's so popular but personally, it gives me the disgust willies. Yech.

This is why I want it gay. Would that make it palatable?

I suppose the one form Laos is the only one I even kinda enjoyed and it is by far the worst production values. I gave it up 1/2 way through. I think I watched 3 eps of F4. No thank you.

Honestly if you want this kind of het toxicity, I think Heirs is a better version of these tropes. Also it's legacy Kdrama so will tell you a lot abouy that industry and what toxic tropes they love (and still employ) even in their BL.

4. who should I cast as Lhong?

Khaotung? First? 5. Last but definitely not least, I respect you a lot. And i love your blog. Irrelevant, but I wanted to ask, how was today's Boss and Babe (ep. 4)?

Aw, thank you so much!

I haven't watched it yet. Tonight!

Lunch, regression analysis all afternoon, dinner with one of my adorable exes, then Jack o'Frost, B&B, and Boys' Planet... in that order.

#asked and answered #mostly by me in other posts #confessions about boys over flowers #i think you all knew this abotu me tho