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astoryinred · 3 years

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"Trese" and the truth in the fiction

In short: why the actual monsters in Trese don't have horns, wings, or summoning rituals

Finally the Netflix anime adaptation of the Filipino graphic novel/comics series "Trese" has dropped. It is available in several languages such as English, Filipino, Japanese, Spanish...just to name a few. It is not a perfect work, both in technical terms as well as an adaptation of the source material, but it is worth a watch. Go watch it. Please.

That being said, there is so much to unpack about the series, and I do not mean in terms of the voice-acting and the ethnicities of the persons involved, or just how crunched together the writing is. I will leave that to the critics. What I am writing here is a view as to the real life truths woven into the horror/supernatural threads of the "Trese" episodes, and why these are important. It's because for a lot of people encountering "Trese" at this point, the actual every day monsters of the tale (or at least of the first 4 episodes) are even more distant than the aswangs, tikbalangs, nunos and other supernatural beings that populate the anime.

This will go into spoilers below the cut

Episode 1: The series opens with a train stopping right near the "Guadalupe Station", and some of its passengers being attacked by aswang as they walk along the railroad tracks. During the course of investigating this and another case (that of a ghost murdered on Balete Drive), Alexandra Trese learns that other spirits using this train line have recently perished in a fire or have also been murdered by aswang in league with a politician.

The squatter/informal settler community mentioned in this episode is based on a real one. That area has gone up in flames from accidental and not so accidental fires over the past few decades. Some of the settlers have moved on, but a good many have stubbornly stuck around despite the land being eyed by a large property developer. That area is a symptom of the inequality that plagues that particular part of the metropolis, since it is only less than a mile away from some of the country's swankiest gated subdivisions. While the powers that be are (probably) not involved in selling anyone for meat, they still have a long way to go to address the woes of that community when it is not election season.

As for the other murder in the episode? There have been several cases of women associated with or married to prominent politicians who have died in mysterious circumstances, with some of these deaths ruled as suicide. In many cases, the truth has been hushed up, or simply swept under the rug.

Episode 2: While Alexandra is pursuing the trail of a tikbalang running wild in the city, she also is called to investigate a mysterious series of electrocutions in a gated village. Along the way she discovers that this is a form of human sacrifice to the bagyons manning the electricity providers of the city.

As reprehensible as the bagyons are, what is truly sickening is the seeming indifference of the people in Livewell Village. It's mentioned more in the comics (but also given a line or two of exposition here by the Nuno) that the people regularly offer an outsider, usually a skilled worker in charge of maintenance, to ensure that the bagyon will bless them. In real life there is the callousness that some people exhibit towards essential workers such as yes, repairmen and electricians who have to endure heights and storms just to ensure the "comfort" of consumers. Although the Philippines isn't a country crawling with litiginous folk and "Karens", there are enough of this sort to make essential workers' lives miserable on a daily basis.

Episode 3: This is a difficult one, both in the comics and the anime. One of Trese's cases leads her to cross paths with an actress named Nova, who is later revealed to have had her child left to die (hence making her a target for a specific type of monster). Nova's story is admittedly not easy to deal with and may be considered incredulous, but there are two important contexts to remember when watching it.

The first is that abortion is still illegal throughout the Philippines. It cannot be legally offered by any clinic or medical practitioner. There are clandestine alternatives available, but at a steep price.

That being said, most Filipinos regardless of where they stand on the abortion issue will still consider the abandonment or murder of an infant to be beyond the pale. Yet this does happen. Every month one can expect to read a story or two of babies being tossed in the trash or left in bathrooms---and those are just the stories that make it to the press. There have been exposes about mothers who have sold off their infants to "adopters" willing to pay thousands of pesos or dollars for an under the table transfer of custody. These happen because of desperation, poverty, and lack of resources to support mothers. Maternity leave is only up to 120 days here in most cases, and there are few resources to support mothers with PPD, mothers abandoned by their partners, or those with just too many mouths to feed. Questions of "bodily autonomy" are not first and foremost in the mind of many women who do the worst to their newborns; the question is food on the table for the next day or the day after. Survival is key. Not independence or empowerment.

With these in mind, it is not surprising that Nova is considered one of the most disturbing and reprehensible characters in this episode. From what we see, her choice of abandoning her child stems from vanity and pursuit of a glamorous career. We can see that this is not because she would be out on the streets if she had a child to care for, or because she was escaping something. It's just portrayed as pure selfishness.

It is interesting that Nova is introduced here almost as a juxtaposition to another mother, Ramona. Ramona, the mother of Crispin and Basilio, is an armed insurgent who engages in a ritual to avenge herself on the military men who forced her to murder her own comrades. It is also implied earlier in the season that it was not just murder involved, but that Ramona had also been a "prize" given to the soldiers who captured her. And yes in this context, it can also mean rape. The Armed Forces of the Philippines does not have a shining record when it comes to its treatment of women dissidents and prisoners. This backstory does not justify what Ramona does for the remainder of her screentime, but it does show why she has absolutely no sympathy or mercy to give to anyone outside of her two children. She is part of a cycle of killing that makes any peaceful resolution of the insurgency in the Philippines so difficult to achieve. Both sides behave abominably, and civillians do get caught in the crossfire (or explosions).

Episode 4: Much of this episode revolves around the events in and surrounding a certain police station located near a large public cemetery. We see that the police chief Captain Guerrero has his hands full with cases and keeping his subordinates in line. The cops in the precinct range from the innocent apparent newcomer Tapia to the more stereotypical "asshole" cops Reyes and company. Later it is discovered that the bodies apparently "stolen" from the graves are resurrected zombies who are being directed to attack the station for a specific reason...and it has to do with how the police run their often bloody operations.

The real life neighborhoods surrounding the cemetery have seen their share of violence and "extra judicial killings". In some houses there are still candles and placards calling for justice for family members killed in raids or accused of having been drug suspects (almost a death sentence in the Philippines 2016 onwards). Eyewitnesses and CCTV footage show members of the police force taking part in these raids and clandestine operations. The worst part? The neighborhoods surrounding that particular cemetery haven't even seen the worst of it. Other disadvantaged communities in the north of the metropolis have seen even more deaths of this sort...with some of the deaths being those of children. Google the name of Kian delos Santos as a test case. Kian's case was one of the few to have extended media coverage, and even then the resolution has been rather wanting.

It is tempting to go into the "all cops are bastards" line of thought with this episode, but I do like how Captain Guerrero is forced to interact with someone who he is trying to save in the station, since as it turns out this person has recently lost a family member to this form of senseless murder. Captain Guerrero and the audience are led to remember that these victims have names. They had families. They had lives. They are more than body counts and statistics. That scene is one of the most humanizing of the series, and shows that while not all cops are bastards, there is enough rot in the institution to make it a problem.

Episodes 5-6: I would go more into Episodes 5 and 6, but those deserve a whole new treatment into the nature of truth, compromise, and even gaslighting (even I am not sure how much of a certain character's narrative is true, and how much is just meant to confuse Alexandra with regard to what she knows of her father). The context she does face before those harrowing revelations is a very real one though: things going wrong in a penitentiary.

The penal system of the Philippines is alarmingly punitive and full of inequities. Privileged inmates like politicians do receive special treatment (including media coverage and becoming leaders of factions) while less privileged inmates languish and must struggle to survive the brutal social hiearchy in some institutions. And yes it has happened that inmates have been sent out to do "jobs" of murder and arson in the outside world, often being snuck in and out. A movie that tackles this aspect better is "OTJ (On the Job)" directed by Erik Matti. That one will keep you up at night.

The ending of Episode 6 is rather ambiguous, and it remains to be seen what Alexandra really experienced during her trials prior to becoming a detective, and what her father really did to her and her sibling. We'll have to wait for another season to get to the bottom of that. But if the anime will continue to draw from the comics themselves for stories/case files, we can count on seeing more societal demons and baddies alongside the supernatural ones. And those are the villains that Alexandra Trese cannot just readily beat; it will take a heck lot more than a babaylan na mandirigma to handle those!

#trese #tw:infanticide #tw:gore #tw:abortion #tw:horror #tw: suicide #tw: implied rape

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solinarimoon · 3 years

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Fields of Wildflowers - Chapter 11

Fields of Wildflowers

Chapter 11

A Sihtric x OC story

AN: The story will start to get a little bit off canon/timeline here and in the final few chapters. Just a heads up. The previous chapters are here. And my master list can be found here.

Warnings: Typical TLK violence and drama but nothing else I can think of at the moment.

Word Count: 3366

Once the decision had been made by both Cwen and Eadith to travel with the company to Winchester, plans moved quickly. Horses and provisions were purchased and goodbyes were made.

Lady Aethelflaed did not come to see the journeyers off. She must maintain a certain level of propriety now and cavorting with her former lover would not rank high on that scale. Cwen also imagined it would be too painful for her to watch as Uhtred rode away. But Aelfwynn did come, accompanied by Wyllath.

Cwen said her final goodbyes and helped Aethelstan into the cart to ride alongside his grandmother.

“I am glad for your company, Cwen,” Lady Aelswith said once she had settled next to Aethelstan in the cart. “I would like to offer you a place in the palace to help me with Aethelstan, should you wish it.” The former queen’s words struck Cwen quite a shock.

“My Lady, it is a very kind offer. One that I do admit is tempting. But,” she trailed off. Her eyes gazed across the courtyard towards where Sihtric was readying the horses, “my future lies elsewhere, I am afraid.”

Lady Aelswith followed Cwen’s gaze and pursed her lips in disapproval.

Before allowing her to make any disparaging statements, Cwen interjected, “Is there anything else I can do for you, Lady?”

After being given a tight lipped shake of the head, Cwen reached her hand to take Aethelstan’s own.

“Once we are stopped for the night, would you like me to sing you another song, Aethelstan? Maybe one I can teach your grandmother?”

“Yes, please,” came his gentle voice as he smiled before turning his attention back to the book in his hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a full day's travel, the group settled on a place to make camp for the evening.

Sihtric helped Cwen to dismount her horse and took the opportunity to steal a kiss from her.

The pair chuckled and Cwen hid her face in Sihtric’s chest when they heard Uhtred call,

“Sihtric, I saw that.”

“Sorry, Lord,” Sihtric called back, chuckling and landing another kiss along Cwen’s lips.

Cwen could not help the girlish giggle that came from her and the feeling like a bird was fluttering against the inside of her chest, trying to break free.

In all her years, she could not remember feeling as light and as happy as Sihtric had made her feel since they’re reunion at Aylesbury.

On the road and on the run, Cwen had felt pulled to him. But the feeling had been more dense. Marred by something more grave, somber, serious. Sihtric’s eyes had always been on her. Studying her and assuring her safety. Cwen had begun to look for those eyes and found comfort and security in them.

But the dangers of their last journey had passed. And that curtain, now pulled back from their relationship, shed light on entirely new and exciting aspects of each other they couldn’t wait to explore.

Since their night together in the glade, Cwen found her mind often returning to thoughts of Sihtric’s hands on her body, his lips on her skin. Her body’s response to him being near her, to feeling his presence excited her.

“I miss our night in the glade,” Cwen whispered as she looked up to meet his eyes. The look she found there left her knees weak.

“Well,” the tembur of his voice rumbled in his chest, “while you’re out gathering wood for the fire, if you notice a nice secluded spot,” his words trailed off suggestively.

Swallowing thickly, Cwen took a step away from his embrace and replied, “I’ll keep my eyes open.”

“What you do to me, woman.” Cwen heard him reply as she turned to stride away in search of firewood.

Cwen had walked several paces when she found Eadith at her side. The two women helped each other collect several pieces of wood before returning to the campsite only to be sent off once more since it would apparently not be enough for Lady Aelswith.

“It’s her way of showing she likes ya,” Finan told Eadith as the ladies walked past him into the forest again. Eadith chuckled in reply and continued walking, while Cwen quirked her brow up at Finan.

“Well…?”

“Well what, Cwen?”

Sighing exasperatedly, Cwen replied “You still haven’t talked to her?”

“Hush,” Finan gestured with his hands for Cwen to quiet her voice. “And no… at least not yet. Now go get more firewood, Cwen. The Lady Aelswith is cold.” he chided her away.

Smirking and shaking her head, Cwen turned on her heel and followed after Eadith into the woods.

“So how does it feel?” Eadith pried after the pair had been silently collecting wood for several minutes.

“How does what feel, Eadith?” Cwen smiled over at her friend.

“Oh you know, just embarking on a new journey with a new lover?”

“Oh you cheeky..” Cwen trailed off after kicking up a small stick at Eadith and managing to not drop the pile of wood balanced in her arms.

“Honestly, Eadith, it just feels right. It feels like I have found a piece of myself that was missing... that I did not even know was missing. But now it is reunited with me and I am whole.”

“Well I am very happy for you, my friend.”

“Thank you, Eadith. Now let us head back and see if this is enough wood for Lady Aelswith’s cold bones.”

Laughing, the two women turned to trek back along their path to camp, but their voices fell silent as they got closer and saw many horses and warriors surrounding their camp.

“What is this?” Eadith hisses while the two crouch low behind a tree.

“I do not know. I can not make out any words.”

Cwen gasped and clasped her hands over her mouth as she watched men grab Aelswith and Aethelstan and march them over to climb into a cart along with Stiorra.

She can only watch in terror as the cart ambles away only to then have her attention caught again as she heard Finan cry out and the Dane’s crowd in around the men.

“What are they doing?” Cwen whispers harshly as their men are tied and strung upside down from tree branches.

Eadith does not respond, only stares ahead.

Cwen can see Sihtric fighting against his restraints and feels a steely resolve in her mind.

“They will die. We must do something. A..a..a diversion.” Cwen rambles as she formulates a plan.

“What sort of diversion?”

“Anything! Anything to bring the guards away from the tree.” Cwen hissed while she looked around for any sort of idea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the tree, Sihtric struggled and fought against his restraints, only succeeding in wearing himself out and increasing his blood flow.

His vision began to get spotty and he could feel himself beginning to fade.

“Sihtric,” he heard Uhtred’s voice. It sounded far away and slow. “Sihtric, stay awake.”

“Cwen,” Sihtric groaned. “They can’t find her…” he mumbled.

But his thoughts were interrupted by Osferth dangling next to him from the tree.

“Hey, it will be alright. They don’t know about her. Just stay awake, eh? Stay awake for her.”

At that moment, Sihtric heard a strangled, terrified scream come from the surrounding forest. As one of the Danes guarding the tree ran off to investigate, Sihtric felt the panic set in that it was Cwen screaming.

Meanwhile In the woods Eadith was crouched over in the forest floor with her back turned to the approaching Dane. Cwen stood over her, clutching at her shoulders and feigning panic.

“What’s this?” Cried the Dane as he got close enough to touch the two women.

“It’s my sister. We were out collecting mushrooms and I don’t know what happened. She’s with child and just fell and screamed. Please help us!”

Her pleading worked as the Dane rushed to Eadith’s side.

Cwen stood back as he approached and allowed him to come between herself and Eadith. Once he was on a knee and therefore lower than Cwen herself, she grabbed a knife from his belt and before he could turn to learn what was happening, she plunged the knife into the side of the man’s neck. Quickly, Eadith stood and backed away searching the woods for signs of the second guard.

Cwen pulled the blade out of the man’s flesh with a sickening squelch, but seeing him continue to struggle she forced the knife into his throat once more.

A look of horror crossed her face while she watched the burly man fall to bleed at her feet, his mouth gaping open and shut like a fish.

“Orm…. Orm,” Cwen was startled from her horror as Eadith clutched at her and the two women knew they must move or else be found by the second guardsman. Eadith grabbed the axe from the dying man’s belt as Cwen held on tightly to the bloody knife.

The ladies crept through the forest silently, skirting the edge of the treeline and avoiding the Dane.

As soon as they knew he was occupied searching in the distance, Eadith ran forward clutching the axe while Cwen rushed to Sihtric, cutting the bonds at his wrists.

As she cut, Cwen tried to rouse him, “Sihtric, wake up. We’re cutting you down, so you have to wake up! Please wake up!”

Cwen breathed a little easier when she heard him begin to groan in response to her shouts.

“Eadith the axe!” Cwen gestured to the rope at Sihtric’s feet.

“Hold him steady,” Eadith rushed while swinging the axe upward, striking at the ropes.

After several cuts, Sihtric’s rope frayed and snapped and he dropped onto the ground and into Cwen’s arms.

Eadith moved on to help free Father Pyrlig next while Cwen tried to shake senses into Sihtric.

As he sat up, Sihtric gasped, regaining some of the feeling in his upper extremities.

Then, before Cwen could register what was happening, the other Dane was back darting towards them. Sihtric was up and moving away from her to keep the man back while Eadith continued to cut the men down.

But Sihtric had not fully recovered from being strung upside down. The Dane overpowered him after a few moments, but it did not last long as Cwen tackled the enemy off of her lover.

By that time, Eadith had been able to free Father Pyrlig who rushed to Cwen’s side, forcing her away to safety as Sihtric grabbed the Dane and shoved him backwards, held tight against the tree. Cwen watched as Pyrlig grappled with the man now too, restraining his arms while Sihtric used a knife to stab at his belly repeatedly.

Cwen turned her attention now to helping the others cut their ropes and regain the strength to stand.

She was supporting Finan who was rubbing at his legs when she felt Sihtric’s hands grasp desperately at her shoulders.

He cupped her face then grabbed at her hands holding them up to inspect them, “Are you hurt, Cwen? Did they,”

Stilling his panic, Cwen hushed his fears, “It is not my blood. It is the first guard’s. I...I killed him.” As soon as the words left her lips, Cwen could feel her own panic begin to rise. Her breathing became erratic and her eyes locked on the blood covering her hands and wrists.

“Hey, hey, hey. We are alive. Breathe. Cwen, look at me.”

Cwen did as he said and found his eyes as they both continued to try and regain control of their breathing.

Their moment was broken when Cwen realized Uhtred and the others were rapidly discussing plans.

“What happened? We could not hear anything. Only saw them take them.”

“It was Haesten, an old enemy who wishes me dead. While we were all in Mercia, the Danes have taken Winchester. That is where they are taking my daughter.”

Cwen could only stare in shock at this news.

“Lord,” Finan interjected, “they do not know who she is. They don’t know she is your daughter.”

Uhtred growled but Cwen watched as he immediately began to strategize. Ever the lord and leader.

“Pyrlig, find Edward and inform him of what has happened here. The rest of us, we go on to Winchester. They will not take what is not theirs. Not while I live.”

The next moments are a flurry of activity as swords are retrieved and everyone begins a quick run following the route the enemies had taken.

Cwen grasps for Eadith’s hand who was still clutching the axe.

“We have to move,” she breathed although the conviction in her own voice fell short.

As if breaking from a trance, Eadith meets Cwen’s eyes, nods and Cwen sees her resolve return.

Sihtric grasps her shoulder as he takes the axe from Eadith and they begin to run.

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They seemed to run endlessly, hours and hours. Cwen’s breath was ragged and her feet ached. But she knew they must make it to Winchester.

There is a good chance that the Danes do not know they have Edward’s first born son as prisoner, but the idea that Aethelstan may be harmed or worse gave her the stamina to continue until nightfall and beyond.

Eventually they did stop for rest and to recuperate for a short while when the night became too dark.

Too tired to do anything more than flop to the earth, the group lay down, all panting, and stretching, and aching.

Sihtric moved himself to lean against a tree and Cwen placed her body between his knees, relaxing into his arms.

She felt as his hand rose to brush his fingers through her hair and he kissed the top of her head before resting his forehead against it and taking deep, steadying breaths.

“I can feel your heart,” she whispered softly.

“It still beats because of you, lady.” He replied, not moving his head, his mouth mere inches away from her ear.

Cwen smiled silently and focused her attention on listening to his heartbeat and continuing to catch her breath.

“You were wonderful, Cwen.”

“I was terrified,” Cwen revealed. “I still am. If anything happens to Aethelstan,” she trailed off.

“I know.” Sihtric did not try to tell her it would all be alright. There was no way to know that it would be. And Cwen appreciated him all the more for that.

Instead, Sihtric continued to stroke her hair as they both listened to their breathing returning to normal.

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After what felt like an eternity of running, they approached the gates of Winchester and took stock of the situation while regaining their breath under a large tree.

Cwen craned her neck to look up to the ramparts where men were pacing and spikes had been placed. Spikes with the heads of dead Saxon’s adorning them.

This new Dane, Sigtryggr, seemed to be utilizing different tactics. It appeared the city was preparing for a siege. Something the Danes had not done in the past.

Cwen sat and listened while Uhtred discussed ideas for what to do.

“We are known here,” Osferth reminded them all.

She felt Sihtric tense next to her, “Yes. Someone would give us up for their own safety.”

“But I am not!” Cwen spoke up forcefully.

The eyes of her friends all turned to her and she felt Sihtric’s gaze burning into her.

Cwen glanced his way for a moment before continuing. “I am not known here. I haven’t been back to Winchester for many years. No one will know me. I can find them and”

“We can find them,” Eadith interjected. Cwen turned to face her friend. “Neither of us will be noticed. Cwen is right. We could hold out in the siege. Keep eyes on our people. If possible let them know you’re here.”

“Exactly,” Cwen agreed. “When the time comes that you can enter the city and retake it, it will help to know where they are being kept. And it will bring them comfort to know you are here.”

Finan looked at Eadith and Cwen in turn and Uhtred mulled the idea over.

“You do not have to do this,” Finan spoke.

“There will be no protection for you. There is no way to know what you will find in there.” Cwen heard Sihtrics' low voice.

“You are right. Both of you,” Cwen looks at the men in turn. “But we don’t really have any other options. And if there is something I can do to help the people we love in there then I will do it.”

“You are sure, Cwen? Eadith?” Uhtred asks.

“Yes,” both ladies reply.

“Then we will find you some provisions to bring in with you. You can not enter the city empty handed. Let’s go.” Uhtred finishes while standing and retreating back with the others to search for food or other useful items left along the road by those fleeing to the safety of the city walls.

As Cwen stands, she feels Sihtric’s hand reach out to take her wrist, holding her back as the others leave.

“I do not like this plan.” His words are honest and slow. Cwen looks at him and has difficulty deciphering the tone of his voice.

“I know you may be angry, but I can not stand by and do nothing.”

“Doing nothing might be better than doing something foolish,” Sihtric hissed while looking down at Cwen’s feet.

Cwen took a step back from him, the shock at his words written on her face. Sihtric allowed her wrist to fall from his hand and he brought his eyes up to see the hurt in Cwen’s eyes.

“You are not the only one who can protect those you care about.” Cwen hissed in reply to his words. “I have cared for Aethelstan as I did for Aelfwynn. They mean the world to me and I meant what I told Lord Uhtred. If there is a chance I can be of help inside those walls then that is what I will do.” Cwen’s words came out clipped and tight as she drew her arms tight around herself. Farther from his reach.

She winced when she saw him scoff and run his fingers through his hair then down his face, leaving them resting in front of his mouth for a moment.

“You will need this on you.” He said taking a knife from it’s sheath on his belt.

“Keep it hidden but on you at all times.” His words were methodic and instructive now. The matter-of-fact instructions directed both of their attention away from the harsh words they had each spoken.

“If you need to use it, aim for one of the areas that is likely to do the most damage and allow you to get away.”

Sihtric brought his body close to hers now and demonstrated where to place the blade and how best to hold it.

Once the impromptu lesson finished, the others had returned bearing a basket with a small amount of food and a large earthen jug.

“Thank you,” Cwen looked up at Sihtric through her lashes to find something unreadable on his face. He spoke no more words, instead closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers. A gesture Cwen had come to realize held special intimacy for her Dane and his companions.

Cwen breathed deeply hoping to quell the frustration in her head at his words earlier, but it only dulled the ache.

After a few silent moments, Cwen pulled away and placed the knife in the pocket of her skirt before turning to head back to meet the others by the large oak, leaving Sihtric behind her and standing next to Eadith.

She took the jug, filled with water from Osferth’s grasp and then the two ladies walked towards the walls of Winchester.

Neither knowing what danger they may find inside. Or what enemies may lie within.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#the last kingdom #sihtric #fanfiction #fields of wildflowers #sihtric x oc

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skrltwtch · 3 years

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Graveyard Shift

Prompt: I know the sign says, "No shoes, no shirt, no service", but I just had the WEIRDEST night and your shop is the only building with lights on this early, and I'm really, really hoping you have some spare clothes behind the counter. Help? (Source in master list)

Word count: 4,255 words

Genre: Fluff, romance, smut, supernatural

Warnings: Smut

References: 1 Inglourious Basterds

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Graveyard shift is the fucking best — and the fucking worst.

For one, the shop is able to achieve that fine balance between having enough customers to justify its opening hours and keep me on its payroll, and having enough customers to not make me regret my choice of employment while I attempt to sort out my life. The silence that falls over the shop at two o’clock — without fail every night, like the general public know they have better places to be at two o’clock than a corner shop — grants it the perfect atmosphere for self-introspection and self-improvement. Have I learnt anything useful? Let’s … not talk about that.

Now, what’s the downside to this job, you ask? The customers, of course. There are fewer of them in the dead of the night, but God, the ones that do come in … Being situated on one of London’s busiest corners means a colourful clientele at all times of the day. Drunkards and yobs make up a sizeable number of the demographic that contribute to the shop’s cash drawer while I’m on duty. It’s both sickening and fascinating to deal with them. In my nine months of working here, I’ve seen it all — or I thought I have, until my attention is drawn to the naked man at the door.

It’s less than half an hour after sunrise. He doesn’t look like he’s knocked back a drink too many. (Can coffee make me see things I’m not supposed to be seeing at this hour?) He looks to be of sound mind, his franticness to be let inside aside. He’s handsome: his brown waves, wiry physique, and elegant features lend him a startling resemblance to an ancient Greek sculpture. Strangely, there is an abundance of scars all over his body, and not in a manner that’d signal self-harm. They look more consistent with animal scratches. I’m speaking from experience here: I have a cat, though it’s nigh impossible a cat did this to him.

Nonetheless, this ranks in the lower half of the top ten weirdest shit I’ve seen while on the clock.

‘Hello? Hello!’ That ought to be what he’s saying; I don’t proclaim myself to be an expert at lip reading. It’s encouraging that he’s aware of the sign preventing his entry and doesn’t think he’s above it, at least.

I shake my head at him. Rules are rules, mate. They apply even to hot, naked men.

‘Come on! Please?’ — I think.

‘Sorry!’ I shout, and I point at the camera above me. Colin, my manager, is a cool bloke. It’s about as likely that I’d lose my job for letting Mr Naked and Afraid grace the inside of the shop with his presence and providing him with service as it is that Mr Naked and Afraid is on something that isn’t obvious to my innocent eyes. Why tempt fate? There are other corner shops with less draconian policies down the street. I turn away and continue looking at my phone to spare us both our blushes. It is nippy outside …

Fuck it.

I motion for him to come in. I can explain this to Colin, should he decide to review this morning’s security footage on a whim. He’s a Cool Bloke™.

‘Thank you,’ says Mr Naked and Afraid. Fuck, the shop lighting is doing him more favours than he needs. ‘You won’t get in any trouble for this?’

‘Nah. I might get chewed out1 for this, but that’ll be the worst of it.’

‘Sorry. But thank you. Thank you. I’m George.’

Good. Mr Naked and Afraid is becoming a mouthful.

‘I’m Eva. How can I help, George?’

‘Do you have any spare clothes?’

‘It’s just me here, mate.’

‘I know. Can’t hurt to ask.’

Can I say, ‘You have balls’? Is that appropriate at a time like this? I exhale audibly. ‘Give me a second.’ I retreat into the staffroom behind the counter. Colin deserves a better staffroom than a lad hangout. I’ll clean up when there isn’t a naked man waiting on me outside — or not. I’m not their helper. I sort through the coat rack for something suitable. Andrew is the closest to George in stature, I think. Operating on that approximation, I grab Andrew’s jacket and trousers. I don’t want to have to think too hard about what my co-workers look like underneath their clothes. Besides, Andrew’s clothes have been here for ages. He won’t miss them.

‘Try these,’ I say.

‘Thank you. I’ll clean and return them, I promise.’ He reaches over the counter for the clothes.

‘Not so fast. Give me the craziest reason you’re butt naked, and if I like it, you get the clothes.’

‘Really?’

‘I have to tell my manager something. Might as well be something weird so I don’t get chewed out too hard.’

‘Fine.’ He puts his hands on his hips and looks around the shop — in search of inspiration, perhaps. I’d love to hear what he comes up with. He looks like someone with a good sense of humour. If we’d met elsewhere, I’d have thought about asking for his number and then chickening out at the last minute, because women like me don’t get anywhere with men like him. I keep a lookout on the entrance for any customers or co-workers, mostly because I don’t want to share this moment with anyone else.

‘Clock’s ticking, George.’

‘You didn’t say there’s a time limit.’

‘I’m not the one with my arse out in public.’

‘Alright. I’m a werewolf. I must’ve messed something up, because I got out of my flat last night and woke up in Trafalgar Square. I live in Hampstead. See these scars? It’s all me.’

I stare at him. He’s staring back at me, expecting a response. He looks serious. I — I can’t. I burst out laughing. Of all the things I thought I’d hear, that isn’t one of them.

‘That’s one I haven’t heard before. I love it.’

‘Yeah? Can I then —’

‘Not before you answer one more question, wolf boy.’ I mean that nickname with utmost sincerity.

‘Seriously …?’ Red blotches his cheeks. ‘Okay, okay.’

‘Were you born a werewolf or were you bitten?’

‘How is that relevant?’

‘Humour me.’

He rakes his hair with his fingers, and holds his inhalation and blink long enough for it to mean ‘I should’ve gone to the next corner shop’. Little does he know that his exasperation is making him look more attractive. I’ll treasure this moment forever. ‘Born. You don’t see any bite marks, do you?’

‘Touché. Here.’ I pass him the clothes.

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’

‘No, thank you for the laugh,’ I say, looking away from him as he tries Andrew’s trousers on for size. Andrew’s fashion sense is being wasted on us corner shop plebeians. ‘I love horror and supernatural shit. That was perfect.’

‘Cool.’ For fuck’s sake, he can also pull off the loud, brash prints Andrew favours? This is unfair. ‘I’ll pop these in the washer when I get home, and I’ll return them to you …’

‘I’m working tonight. I’ll be here at ten.’ Technically, I start work at midnight. Andrew’s scheduled for the evening shift today, and I’d love to see his face when George returns with his clothes. I can’t remember how long these specific items have been in the staffroom. Plus, like, ten o’clock is an acceptable time to meet someone who lives in Hampstead and probably has standard working hours, isn’t it? ‘If that’s not too late for you.’

‘That’s fine. Thanks again, Eva.’ He’s said the T word so many times, it’s starting to sound weird to my ears. Semantic satiation — that’s what the phenomenon is called. I learnt this from the 3,722nd post I read on Reddit some nights ago.

‘You’re welcome, wolf boy. See you tonight.’

He grins. ‘See you.’

Just as he turns to leave, I swear, I swear on my copy of The Killing Joke with a frayed spine because I put it in the same bag as my water tumbler with a loose cap, I see a flash of fangs.

✦✧✦✧

‘You’re here early,’ says Andrew.

‘It’s midnight somewhere in the world.’ I don’t join him behind the counter. I’m scheduled to start work at midnight, and that is exactly what I’ll do. Overtime means nothing to me. (I say that like it’s applicable in this instance.) ‘Did a guy come in to look for me?’

‘Nope. Hey, do you know what happened to my trousers and jacket? First one’s floral; second one’s mustard.’ Doesn’t it just sound like a ghastly combination? Andrew can pull it off. So can George — both items at the same time. I’ve only seen Andrew in one or the other.

‘Funny story, that.’

‘Share.’

‘Okay, picture this: It’s fuck o’clock in the wee hours of the morning. Sun’s coming up. I’m on my second tumbler of coffee and running out of things to keep myself entertained. Suddenly, a naked bloke is asking to be let in; he’s begging. He doesn’t look drunk or high. I let him in because I’m a bleeding heart at heart. He asks me for spare clothes. Thank God you treat this place like your second closet. I ask him to hit me with the craziest reason he’s naked to help me decide if I should help him. He says he’s a werewolf.’ I am fighting to hold in my laughter. ‘And he says it with the straightest face you can imagine.’

‘Eva, this bloke was hot, wasn’t he?’

‘Yes, but —’

‘You’d have given him the clothes no matter what he said.’

‘I didn’t tell you this story for you to call me out like that.’

‘You’re welcome. Does Colin know you breached one of the shop’s sacred creeds?’

‘Does he have to know?’

‘No comment. It’s not my arse on the line.’

‘Colin won’t do me dirty like that. I did a good deed.’

‘… No comment. Am I going to get my stuff back?’

‘That’s why I’m here.’

‘Bollocks, I thought it’s because you like my company.’

‘Why not both?’

The bell above the door jangles, cutting our conversation short. It’s none other than the man of the hour himself. Never have I been this ecstatic to see someone enter the shop. He has no business filling out his grey shirt as well as he is.

‘George! Hi!’ I drown out Andrew’s snicker. Can’t I be excited about speaking with an attractive, charming man who isn’t drunk or in need of goods and services a corner shop can provide in the shop at this time of night? I might also never see him again after this, so as far as I’m concerned, I deserve every second of this.

‘Hello, Eva,’ says George. ‘Got the clothes cleaned like I said I would.’ He shows me the paper bag in his hand. McDonald’s. I can hear Andrew’s heart giving out. ‘Thank you again.’

I take the bag from him and place it on the counter, the golden arches staring Andrew in the face. ‘You’re welcome. You should thank him, too.’ I jerk my thumb at my near-apoplectic co-worker. ‘This is Andrew. The clothes are his.’

‘Thank you,’ George says to the other man, who responds with a tight-lipped nod, still in the midst of computing what he did in a past life to deserve having his clothes returned to him in a McDonald’s paper bag. ‘I followed the instructions on the labels as best I could. If I ruined something, I’d be happy to pay you back for it.’

‘Thanks, mate.’ Andrew takes the clothes out of the bag and gives them a quick once-over. ‘Looks good. You can have the bag back.’ He pushes it toward George with his finger.

‘Okay …’ George takes the bag, flattens and folds it into a neat square, and holds it under his arm. ‘Eva, I can’t — I can’t thank you enough for this morning. Last night was … weird.’ He swallowed.

‘Yeah, sure …’ I wink at him. ‘… wolf boy.’

‘Are you working now?’

‘No, but I will be in’ — I consult my watch — ‘an hour and a half’s time. I came in early because I know I don’t have the same concept of day and night as most people.’

‘Graveyard shift: fun as shit’ is Andrew’s sterling contribution to this part of the conversation. I like that, actually.

‘You didn’t have to — I’m more of a night owl,’ says George. Is that because he has a closer affinity to the night because of what he is? I convince myself it is. ‘Do you want to go get some coffee nearby? It’s the least I can do. I hope I didn’t get you in trouble.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ I say. I should talk to Colin about this soon. ‘Sure, I’d love some coffee. Be a dear and watch the shop for me, will you, Andrew?’

✦✧✦✧

George leads me into his flat. Our bellies are full from dinner. I love and hate eating with him sometimes. I love his company, obviously; I hate that he can put away so much without any of it showing on him. Earlier, he had pork chops, lamb meatball stew, and a fudge brownie with ice cream. I get that he needs all that protein to maintain his figure, and I’d love and support him all the same if he were, but he’s not an Olympics athlete like Michael Phelps. Nonetheless, all that food’s imbued him with oodles of energy, the kind that’s seen us seek to end the night on a more gratifying note at someone’s place. (Mine’s out of the question tonight because my flatmate’s working toward the same goal with her latest squeeze.)

The farthest we make it before the urge to eat each other’s faces overpowers us is the sofa. I’m on top of him, just showering him with gentle kisses on his lips, and sometimes his cheeks and nose. I’m content with savouring his taste for now. His breathing is heavy. He’s warm to the touch. His kisses are more insistent. I yield to his desperate, almost plaintive moans and allow our tongues the pleasure of getting to know each other better. His hand is feverishly fondling my thigh and hip; the latter has developed a mind of its own, grinding up against him. Deciding our mouths couldn’t have all the fun, I move on to his neck, which he kindly bares for me. His throat is thrumming with — growls?

I look up at him and say, ‘Do you hear that?’

‘Hm?’ His eyelids flutter open. I gasp.

Staring back at me are yellow eyes, brilliant and wild.

Oh, my God.

‘George — your —’

‘Why?’ He puts his hand to his mouth. ‘Shit.’ I get off him. I see the fangs I thought I saw the first time we met. ‘What’s today’s date?’

‘It’s the eighth.’

‘Fuck!’ The force with which he cursed propels him out of his seat. ‘You have to go. I’m sorry,’ he says, taking off his shirt. His chest sheens with sweat. ‘I forgot.’

I don’t need to ask him what it is he forgot: I know the answer on a primeval level. I know I should leave. I stand transfixed by what’s happening before me. His flesh twists and ripples. The growls get louder. The proportions of the hand on his chest — hairier than I’ve ever known it to be — are all wrong. Poking — pushing out from underneath his fingernails are claws. He turns away from me. The sight of protruding knobs of bone under the skin along his spine causes chills to run down mine. My poor George. My poor wolf boy.

‘I’ll go,’ I say, as much as I want to stay with him. ‘Will you be okay?’ I shake my head. Stupid question. He’s in agony.

‘I’ll be fine.’ There is greater conviction in the violent gurgle that follows than his words. ‘Now go. Please.’ His back arches and expands with muscle. He cries out in pain.

I do as he says. I hear the locks rattle and turn behind me. Though his strained growls and yips are horrible to hear, I stick around outside his door. I don’t know why. I don’t know why I don’t quite feel afraid either of what I saw in there or of what I now know. Instead, I feel … I press my legs together and bite my lip. Not the time. After what feels like an eternity of guttural noises that have no right coming from a human throat, a howl, long, almost melodious, pierces the air. It’s almost … reassuring. So much about him makes sense now.

I take my phone from my bag, and I send him the following: ’Text me when you see this. Love you.’

✦✧✦✧

I shift on my feet as I wait for George to answer the door. I’m worried about him. Does he not want to see me anymore after last night? No, it’s an insult to the both of us for me to think that he thinks I’d be narrow-minded enough to stop wanting to be with him because of what he is. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. The food I brought for him is getting cold. Can he smell it from inside his flat? I press the doorbell again. I wish he had a neighbour to tell me what I can do in times like this.

The door opens. He looks a mess: he’s in boxers, and his hair is sticking out every which way. His eyes go wide. The memory of his yellow eyes resurfaces. I feel a little weak in my knees.

‘Good morning, love. I came to see if everything is okay,’ I say, ‘and I brought breakfast.’ I show him the paper bag. The food inside still smells good.

‘I thought —’ He doesn’t need to complete his sentence for me to know what he means. It’s written plainly in the furrow of his brow, the sadness in his eyes. Damn it. I didn’t want to be proven right about that.

‘Of course not. You didn’t see my message?’

‘I haven’t checked my messages. Sorry.’

‘Oh.’

‘Please, come in. Are you off work today?’

I nod.

His flat, too, is in disarray. It looks just as if an animal went wild in here. Pillows and books are all over the floor; some of the former have been ripped apart. Sunlight shines through the gaping holes in the curtains. Nothing’s broken, at least. George’s head hangs low. ‘I haven’t had the time to clean up … nor was I expecting visitors. I called in sick to work and went back to sleep. I forget what happens when I don’t take my meds before I transform.’

‘Let me guess — the last time that happened was a year ago?’

‘Yeah, probably. I don’t know. That was — that was different. I guess I was too excited about our date that I forgot what yesterday was.’

I walk him to the sofa, and we sit down. The food is left to sit out on the coffee table. ‘It’s okay,’ I say, stroking his arm lovingly. ‘I wasn’t … I’m not freaked out or anything. I love horror and supernatural shit after all.’ I chuckle nervously, more so because I hate my tendency to resort to awful humour in an attempt to defuse tense situations. ‘So, um … I owe you an apology for laughing at you when you first told me.’

‘Don’t. I could’ve said something else. I didn’t. I wanted the clothes fast, and after the night I’d had, that was the most out-there thing I could think of in a snap.’

‘Yeah, then I made it into a thing between us! I call you “wolf boy”! You never asked me to stop! And I told everyone how we met! Everyone knows you’re a werewolf!’ I gasp. So. Many. Exclamation. Marks.

‘This is our thing. Only you know for certain. I feel like I can breathe now.’

I lay my head on his chest. ‘You don’t have to be afraid. You don’t have to hide.’

‘That first sentence sounds like something I’m supposed to say.’

‘So, George … about last night … was that because you were about to — or …’

His words come out almost in a snarl: ‘I wanted you. I want you.’ His lips are centimetres away from my neck. His breath is hot on my skin.

‘Are we like … mates now, then?’ I giggle as I draw an indiscriminate shape on his chest with my finger. I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time last night reading up on wolf behaviour. The thought of what lies in store for me is a little exhilarating, an observation I had a mild developmental crisis over when I felt that first pang of passion from applying what I read to our relationship.

‘Yes.’

He licks my neck. My core tingles with excitement at the ramifications of his declaration — for the record, I meant it as a light-hearted question — and at what’s about to come next, based on my research. Then he pushes me down onto my back, and I see his eyes, still blue, flicker with the same intensity as last night. He hikes up my dress and gets straight to nuzzling my mound. He laps his tongue over my underwear and inner thighs, the strokes long, soft. I hum impatiently. My underwear is getting soaked. He slides it off my pelvis, and he promptly buries his face in my folds. Fingers come into the picture soon after. I writhe in his grasp, desiring release.

And Lord, does it come.

I don’t get to wait for my legs to stop quivering, as he rises from between them and says, ‘On all fours, love’, his voice a lusty rasp. I scramble to my hands and knees. He’s never asked for this before. I’m liking this greater sense of freedom he now has around me. How much had he been holding back? I spread myself for him. He pushes his cock up against my slit. I let out a small, startled ‘Oh’ when he enters me. I feel pinpricks where his fingertips are. Each thrust is deep and brutal. It hurts a little, but it hurts so good. I press the side of my face into the couch and close my eyes. Stars crash into each other in the blackness behind my eyelids.

Though he’s the werewolf here, I’m the one whimpering and moaning like an animal, too, while he huffs and growls with each movement. The sounds encourage him. ‘Please, don’t stop, don’t stop …’ I breathe. My walls convulse around his girth and fill up with an unbearable heat and wetness. Come drips out of me and trickles down my thighs. Then his thrusts become shallower and rough, his fingertips threaten to leave bruises on my skin, and he empties himself inside me. He lets out a strangled howl; my lip almost bleeds from how hard I’m biting down.

I feel so empty, almost a little sad, when he pulls out. I settle into a lounging position on the sofa. He wedges himself behind me. I gently fondle his business, still hard. He resumes licking my neck, sometimes rubbing his face on my skin.

‘I’m sorry if that was … weird. It’s the first time I fucked like that — and the first time I fucked after the full moon.’

I turn around and kiss him. ‘You were amazing.’ His ears turn pink. ‘Am I your first girlfriend who knows?’

‘Yes. About being mates …’ He pulls me closer to him. ‘I can do something about that. If you want. No pressure. It’s a huge decision.’

I won’t lie and say I didn’t consider the idea at least once last night. The dream I had about transforming and running alongside him on all fours can attest to that. But I tell him, ‘I need to think about it first.’ I don’t want him to think I’m rushing headlong into something I have little to no knowledge about. (Tabbing back and forth between pages about wolf behaviour for at least two hours doesn’t make me an expert. I’m not even sure if it’s relevant.) I also wasn’t expecting this question to come up so soon, considering he thought I’d leave him. I sweep my thumb across his lips, then his nose. ‘Maybe if I see you in your wolf form first …’

‘Fair enough. Promise me you’ll still love me the same after you’ve seen him. He’s more fun than I am, even when hopped up on industrial-strength bear tranquiliser.’

‘It’s going to take a lot to top what I’ve seen in the last year — and the last hour.’

He chuckles. ‘I’m in trouble.’

I spend the day at his place. (What? I’m taking a mental health day, and being with my boyfriend does wonders for my mood.) We fuck several more times, unable to get enough of each other; we’re like lovesick puppies. He lets shades of his true self slip through on occasion. He assures me it’s not because of the full moon. I assure him I know. Until today, I didn’t think it’d been possible for him to become more alluring. I give him my answer to his offer before sunset, which he happily accepts. At the end of the day, I lie in my wolf boy’s arms, waxing gratitude for the graveyard shift at the corner shop a year ago.

#exophilia #terato #werewolf #monster love #monster romance #mine

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subukunojess · 2 years

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Twist OC Reference Part 2

Here’s the second part of my OC references for “Legends Over The Horizon”, my main fic for my Twisted Wonderland AU. Again I used a picrew for this and I do not own it. It can be found here: https://href.li/?https://picrew.me/image_maker/1407730

Let’s start out with my other two Heartslabyul members!

First we have a minor side character, William Carol, a 1st Year Student who is twisted from the Lizard with a Ladder in “Alice in Wonderland”. In the film, the White Rabbit asks the Lizard with a ladder to deal with the giant Alice and he gets afraid. I made him more of a comedy relief character and a fill-in for some of the nameless NRC students for now. He is part of the Magift club in cast you want to know!

The last one is currently named Ash who is a 2nd Year. He does not have a surname yet. He is twisted from the talking Red Rose/White Rose from “Alice in Wonderland”. Also a minor character, but most likely has more of a role in certain stories. He came about after watching the flower scene in the movie, thinking about some Overblot lore, and Little Shop of Horrors, haha. And also Moonlight Densetsu from Sailor Moon. Still coming up with Ash’s backstory but I had the idea of him having mood swings similar to Floyd. Like he has this polite and elegant side to him like the singing white rose and is kind of like a knight character. But there’s also the “red” part of him that’s loud and eager to fight. I am so tempting of him being able to shift into a rose flytrap for a limited time. In one of Yuu’s dreams, he’s the executioner type who follows the Queen of Hearts. Ash is in the Movie Appreciation Club and knows how to use a sword.

Finally, we have my first attempt of what Felix Cavatica might look like. He is the twist of Oogie Boogie from the Nightmare Before Christmas. I am still coming up with his design when he and Yuu first meet because I want to find a look that says “this boy was on the verge of death and overblot but his body seems confused”. He will definitely have some scars, stitches, and have burlap around him in his debut. Also figuring out his curse and whether or not I can pull it off, but so far, the curse placed on him is a memory curse that affects both him and most of NRC. When Yuu and Grim first meet him, no one has a clue on who is at first and what was his previous dorm. He would be officially considered Ramshackle’s second student. Later on, it would be revealed that he was once a Diasomnia student and he remembered entering Night Raven as a first year. I went with the Diasomnia colors to show that he was sorted in that dorm. I want to make Felix important not only because he would be the other resident of Ramshackle other than Grim that Yuu cares for, but he is integral to the Blot plot point of the AU. Yuu convinces Crowley to give Felix one more chance at a year in NRC since he never got to experience it and Crowley agrees... for mysterious reasons. Although he is technically considered a second year student, he would sometimes have joint classes with 1A to cover the basics and to maintain balance of his magic use. Felix also joins the Board Game club since he did not remember joining a club before.

Happy New Year and perhaps I might do one more part!

#Twisted Wonderland #picrew #OC #OC reference #OC: Ash #OC: Felix Cavatica #OC: William Carol #Alice In Wonderland #Lizard with a Ladder #roses #Oogie Boogie #Nightmare Before Christmas #Heartslabyul #Diasomnia #Legends Over The Horizon #ideas

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baepsaesbae · 3 years

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Ethereal Encounters

Pairing— Angel!Seokjin x Demon!reader

Genre— Smut +18, comedy, light pining, supernatural au, angel au, demon au, time traveling (this was inspired by Good Omens by Neil Gaiman)

Warnings— oral (m and f receiving), explicit unprotected sex, death (but not really important), somewhat religious talk bc well they’re an angel and demon??

Word Count— ~6.3k

Summary— Since the early beginnings of mankind, you have been tasked with overseeing them and ensuring chaos befalls them. However, you meet an angel who has been tasked with the same duties, only obviously he’s supposed to ensure their wellbeing. How will you deal with him?

A/N— Happy Halloween everyone! This fic is part of @bangtanshadowfamily’s project Moonlight Manor. I had a blast writing this, please let me know what you guys think! Thank you so much to @dee-ehn for making such an angelic banner.

The story of Cain and Abel in the biblical Book of Genesis is well known by many throughout countless generations. The basic rundown is that Cain became jealous of Abel and murdered him. Tragic. However, what isn’t well known is that divine powers were involved. This was where it all started between you and him.

“How dare he. You’re the oldest son. You should have God’s favor,” you whispered into Cain’s ear.

As a high order demon, you were tasked with creating calamities for the stupid creatures that God loved oh so very much. What better way to ensure mankind would be doomed than introducing murder. Even better, the murder of ones own brother. Yes, your plan was ingenious.

“You need to gut him. Gut him like you would the animals you eat. God would have no choice but to cherish you instead,” you continued.

You started to feel the hatred swell within Cain. He sprang to his feet and grabbed his hunting knife. He marched out to the field where his brother was and struck him down. You watched all this transpire with a grin of satisfaction painted across your face.

“Oh no. It appears I’m too late,” you heard a disappointed voice behind you.

Whipping around quickly, you turn to see a defeated looking angel. He was quite handsome. He was tall, had broad shoulders, and lips that formed the perfect pout. You despised him the moment you laid eyes on him. Of course, he’s in a corporeal vessel. His true form would be too much for any mortal to see, and they would combust on the spot. Your corporeal vessel was that of a woman. You figured it would make swindling humans easier later on.

“Who the hell are you?” you snarled.

“Me? Oh, I’m the angel Seokjin. I was sent by the higher ups to oversee the progression of mankind. I was told to make sure they weren’t led astray,” the angel rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Interesting. I was sent by my higher ups to make sure that mankind would be led astray,” you muse, “It seems that we have quite the conflict of interests.”

“It would appear so,” the angel had his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Well Jin--”

“That’s not my name. It’s Seokjin--”

“I don’t care. That’s too long.”

“Too long? It’s two syllables!”

“Who has that kind of time, Jin? Not me. Anywho, my work here is done. Since this place is under both of our jurisdictions, maybe I’ll see you around sometime,” you gave the angel a wink before vanishing from the scene.

That was your first of many encounters with the angel Seokjin.

200 CE

The crowd roared with fervor as the gladiators fought to the death. You were one of the happy spectators watching a man get pummeled to death with the butt of a sword. As the man’s skull was caving in, you heard someone sigh beside you.

“There’s no need to be that cruel. He should cut off the poor fellow’s head and just end it already,” you heard a man say.

“That wouldn’t please this crowd at all. They’re all here because they want to see a spectacle. Chopping someone’s head off at the beginning of the fight would be sooo boring,” you turn to the disgruntled man, “I mean, you gotta pay to watch so--oh my god it’s you.”

The angel beside you was just as radiant as on the first day you met him. Even dressed in Roman apparel, you could tell there was something otherworldly about him. The angel returned the same shock as his eyes grew wide when they landed on you.

“You! You’re the one who started the downfall of man!” he accused.

“Well actually it was the snake that tempted Eve. I wish I could take credit for that. What have you been up to? Jin right?” you greet him as if he were an old friend, slinging your arm around him.

“Wrong. My name is Seokjin. I’ve been overseeing mankind. As I was instructed to,” Seokjin answered while trying to wiggle out of your grasp, “But it seems like no matter what I do, humans always resort to violence. You must be very good at your job.”

“They’re all shitbags like that. It makes my job so easy! I don’t even have to lift a finger,” you brag.

“There are some humans who have nothing but love and compassion for other living creatures--”

“Gross,” you interject.

“--so my faith in humanity is not lost. I think I’ve begun to realize why Father is so fond of them,” Seokjin rations.

“What’s your reasoning?” you inquire.

“Humans like to resort to violence quite often, like you said. But they also like to love and cherish those important to them. I think the free will that they have makes them remarkable,” Seokjin is lost in his own thoughts.

“An angel who has his own opinions? Dangerous territory buddy,” you laugh.

“Oh? Why is that dangerous?” Seokjin’s face contorted in confusion.

“Nevermind. Forget what I said. See ya around, Jin,” you’re about to disappear before Jin called out to you.

“Wait! You know my name, but I don’t know yours. That hasn’t been sitting well with me for the past couple centuries,” Seokjin shyly confessed.

“Aw, you’ve been thinking of me for centuries? What a sweetheart. I’m ___, Mother of Murder, Enslaver of Mankind, and Tamer of Dragons,” you bow.

“Tamer of Dragons? I’ve never seen one,” Seokjin tilted his head.

“Probably because they’re not real and I was messing with you. The other titles are real though. I’m kind of a bigshot downstairs. That’s why they keep me up here. See ya around, angel,” you vanish out of sight.

“___. She doesn’t really seem like the demons I’ve been told about,” Seokjin pondered.

You had a couple more run ins with the angel Seokjin, but unfortunately they were all in passing. The two of you would catch a fleeting glimpse of the other before one of you would vanish. Your time on Earth was starting to bore you. Up until you decided to wreck some havoc.

1350 CE

The black plague, also known as the Black Death, was sweeping across Europe. It had already taken millions of lives, and still had more to go. This catastrophic pandemic was beyond devastating. And you couldn’t be happier. Cart after cart rolled through towns and villages, each one filled with the bodies of the deceased or nearly deceased. The screams of those in agony was music to your ears. You skipped cheerfully along the streets. You couldn’t be more pleased with yourself. After all, the Black Death was your brainchild.

“___!” you stop in your tracks.

“Jin? Jin! How lovely to see you,” you greet him with a warm smile. You started to grow fond of him through the years. His curiosity and sincerity always amused you.

“It’s Seokjin, not Jin. I’m honestly quite worried,” Seokjin sighed.

“About? The humans?” you peer up at him.

“Yes. This plague has gotten out of hand. Sure, humans get sick and die all the time. They’re frightfully delicate. But this? Millions upon millions dead? This must be the work of some...some sort of demon!” Seokjin exclaims before calming himself, “I apologize for my outburst. This whole situation is just too worrisome.”

“You’re right. You must be a sleuth or something,” you say nonchalantly.

“What? Right about what?” Seokjin’s eyes widen.

“This IS the work of a demon. Me! This is all my doing! Pretty impressive no?” the horrified look on Seokjin’s face encouraged you to continue, “So get this. I was bored outta my mind one day, right? Then I started thinking about all the organisms on this planet. From tall to small. Then I realized that bugs are completely on the bottom of the food chain. Very unfair, wouldn’t you say?”

“I suppose so, but God intended--”

“Sure sure whatever. I took it upon myself to give bugs a little advantage. Specifically, fleas. I experimented for a bit then settled on giving some of them the ability to infect their prey! Truth be told, I had no idea that the rats they sucked on would become feral. I just thought they’d get sick and die a horrible death or something. Who would’ve thought they’d go around biting humans? Am I the best or am I the best?” you wiggled your eyebrows at Seokjin, who was still staring at you with horror.

“You caused all of this, ___? And it was all an accident?” Seokjin was trying to process what you told him.

“Yeah basically. All because I wanted to make the playing field a little more fair for fleas,” you nodded.

“That’s funny,” Seokjin said curtly.

“Oh yeah? What amuses you so, my angel?” you ask playfully.

“You wanted to help fleas. Fleas. Some would say it was an act of compassion,” Seokjin grins.

“What? No! No, I was just bored. I thought it would be something I could occupy myself with. Don’t look too deep into it, Jin,” you turn away, in hopes of hiding your flushed cheeks.

“Sure sure. Whatever you say, ___. At least you’re probably getting high praises in Hell,” he pats your head fondly.

“Shut up, angel,” you say before vanishing. You couldn’t take the embarrassment any longer. Compassion? From you? No way in Heaven. And what was that? Jin patting your head like you’re some sort of friends? Even though he was growing on you like a tumor, you hadn’t considered him a friend before. Well. Maybe you had. You just didn’t want to admit it. Life can get pretty lonely on Earth for an immortal being. At least you guys have that in common.

In an attempt to befriend Seokjin, you searched for him. Up until now, it has always been him sneaking up on you. You found him in a small village that had just about been completely wiped out by the Black Death.

“Hey angel,” you pipe up, causing him to jump.

“Ah! ___! Hello, you scared me. What can I do for you?” Seokjin smiled, his cheeks bunching up like fresh bread.

“I was wondering if you’d like to get a bite to eat? We can sneak into the nearest Royal family’s kitchen and find something good?” you ask, looking at the ground.

“Eat? We don’t have to do that though,” the angel’s signature confused face took hold.

“Yes I know that. But we’re on Earth now and until the end of time. Or until we get called back. Might as well indulge in Earthly pleasures right?” you try to reason. Your pride would be hurt if he declined.

“Indulge? Isn’t that sinful?” Seokjin said apprehensively.

“I didn’t realize a loaf of bread was sinful. I’ll be right back, just gotta drag yeast into Hell,” you mock. To your surprise, Seokjin laughed. As corny as it is, his laugh sounded like a mixture of bells and a choir of angels. It was truly euphoric.

“To be quite honest, food is one of my favorite things on Earth. I’m fond of desserts in particular. Hearing you suggest eating made me reconsider if it’s a sin or not. But you’re right. A bite of food won’t hurt anyone!” Seokjin concluded gleefully.

That was the start to the tradition of eating together after every encounter.

1943 CE

Although technically mortal enemies, you both enjoyed the companionship now and again. Hearing about each other’s lives never got boring. Seokjin himself was somewhat of an enigma to you. He was childlike in the sense that he was curious about everything, and loved learning about new things. He was also simultaneously serious about everything. Any time he tried to make a joke, it was always lost on you. You soon learned to fake a laugh for him because...because you kind of liked the way his eyes lit up when he was pleased with himself. He always found you entertaining. He admired your confidence. You were the epitome of devious, but even so, Seokjin believed that there was some good in you. You in turn believed there must be some bad in him. At least enough that allowed him to continuously hangout with a demon.

You sat alone in a German cafe, gazing out the window on a gloomy day. You listened intently to the conversation behind you. Nazi soldiers were discussing the satisfying feeling that accompanied terrorizing those who didn’t belong in Hitler’s utopia. You scoffed as you bit into your streusel coffee cake.

“Mind if I sit here?” a familiar voice asked.

“Jin, my darling angel friend, of course you can sit there. I wouldn’t dare let anyone else sit with me,” you smile mischievously.

“It’s Seokjin. Not Jin. Why must we go over this every time?” Seokjin sighed.

“I think the nickname puts us on friendlier terms,” you devour what’s left of your cake, “Oh sorry, did you want some of that?”

“Should an angel and a demon be on friendly terms? And no thank you. Actually, I brought you a little surprise,” Seokjin makes a small decadent box appear from thin air, “These are your favorites, if I recall correctly.”

Your eyes grew wide as you received the box, “Is this…? JIN!!! I haven’t had these in ages!” you cheer gleefully as you open the top.

A familiar sight of perfectly baked macarons laid gracefully within. All your favorite flavors were there: coffee, chocolate, lemon, and other delectable flavors. You breathe in the sweet scent of the goods before choosing your first target. You sway happily as you take the first bite.

“Gift giving is definitely something that friends do,” you say with your mouth still full, “Would you like some?” you offer the other half of the coffee macaron.

“Then I suppose we are friends, ___. I’m happy I ran into you. There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” Jin takes the other half of the macaron, “World War I was atrocious enough. But now all of this World War II business is even more despicable. I was wondering if you had an idea about when this will end. It has been breaking my heart to see all of this horror unfold.”

“So the macarons were a peace offering for information?” your eyes narrowed, chocolate macaron in hand.

“I was in the little French village that made your favorites and thought it would be nice to bring you some. Talking about World War II was actually an afterthought,” Seokjin said. That made you chuckle. Jin was being honest; he’s incapable of lying. If he ever tried, it would never work on you because he was god awful at it.

“I’ll believe you for now, angel. To be honest, the humans did this themselves. I was sightseeing in Mongolia when Germany invaded Poland. I knew that Hitler guy was no good-- I specialize in that-- but he’s damn near as evil as a certified demon. I can’t take credit for any of this. I like creating chaos. It’s what I do. But I find this highly organized genocide distasteful,” you admit.

“A demon finding genocide distasteful? Amusing. See? There must be some goodness left in you. I guess you don’t know when this will end then?” Seokjin asks.

“Not a clue. And don’t you ever say that I have goodness. That’s bullshit. I’m the baddest of the bad. Don’t forget that,” you sneer.

“There’s no need to get hostile, my friend. I should get going. I’ve been trying to help the victims in any way that I can. Needless to say, it has been very busy for the past few years. This was a nice little break. It’s always a pleasure to see you,” Seokjin smiles and bows respectfully before disappearing out of sight.

“The pleasure is all mine, my darling angel,” you say quietly to the empty space before you.

Present Day

“That girl over there looks rather ravishing, doesn’t she? It’s a shame that she’s here instead of your girlfriend. Unless…,” you pour thoughts of infidelity in a random guy’s mind.

You sensed that he was nervous the entire night, and after observing him for a bit, you finally realized why. This man was out clubbing with his friends in celebration of someone’s birthday. His girlfriend isn’t one for going out (or having any sort of fun, from what you can gather in his mind) and he’s been eyeing this one gal the entire night. He was on the fence about whether or not to make a move. Luckily for him, you were in the vicinity that night. The alcohol pumping through his veins made him even more susceptible to your persuasions. You only spoke those few words to him before he made his way over to the girl, who immediately proceeded to grind on him.

“Infidelity huh?” a familiar voice said.

“It’s the easiest sin for men to commit. Women are too tempting for those who can’t control their lust. And by that, I mean probably 99% of all male humans,” you shrug, “It’s my duty to lead humans astray, remember?”

“Of course, how could I forget?,” Seokjin chuckled, “It’s amusing to me that the one who caused the Black Death is now sitting in a dingy nightclub telling intoxicated men to cheat on their significant other.”

“Would you rather me tell him to murder her? Would that please you, Jin?” you raise an eyebrow threateningly.

“Oh dear heavens, no. Please don’t do that. But if you were to do that, I can always intervene and protect the poor girl. And please. It’s Seokjin, not Jin,” the angel pouted. You loved his pout, it made his supple lips look even more delectable. Wait. What are you thinking?

The two of you sat in a booth inside the dimly lit nightclub. After ordering multiple rounds of drinks, Seokjin finally felt loose enough to strike up a conversation. You had been too lost in your thoughts regarding how you felt about your angelic companion to talk.

“How have you been, ___?” Seokjin asked.

“Same as ever. Chillin out, traveling, creating mischief wherever I go. My favorite thing to do nowadays is to fuck up cell phone receptions in really popular areas. The animosity goes through the roof!” you explain.

“Sounds...exciting,” Seokjin takes another sip.

“What about you, angel cakes?” you gaze at him fondly.

“My flower shop has been coming along beautifully! I mean, I want to keep all of the flowers for myself but I guess part of running a business is selling your goods. You should come by and see it. I even have some nightshade. I thought of you when I acquired it,” Seokjin smiled.

“Stop, you’ll make me blush. I’ll come and visit your shop soon,” you finish your drink, “It kinda sucks though,”

“The drink? We can order another--”

“Not that. I’m living the best life I could possibly ask for. The world is literally my playground. But I’m kinda bored. I’ve plunged from the Mother of Murder to inciting infidelity just for the drama. I feel like I’m burnt out,” you pout, sinking into the booth.

“Maybe finding a hobby could help? I like plants, so now I collect and sometimes sell them. What do you like? Come to think of it, I don’t think I really know much about you at all,” Seokjin realizes.

“I’m hurt. We’ve been friends for what? About 6000 years?” you dramatically grasped your chest.

“Friends? You consider me a friend?”

“Are we not?” you retorted.

“I suppose we are. What an unlikely friendship. And one that our bosses will never know about,” Seokjin grins, “Can I ask you something? As a friend?”

“Sure thing. Jin, my best friend in the whole wide world, what do you want?” you bat your eyes at him.

“How did you fall from Grace?”

Hearing the question sobered you up immediately. You never thought Jin would care about you enough to ask such a personal inquiry. It’s akin to asking someone ‘hey, what’s the most traumatic thing that ever happened to you?’ out of the blue. You were staring at your empty cup when Jin spoke up.

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line. I’ve just been so curious--”

“It’s fine. I was just shocked that you wanted to know me on a more personal level,” you laugh nervously.

“Why wouldn’t I? We’re friends,” Seokjin said seriously.

You take a deep breath before answering, “I was curious. Just like you. I didn’t understand why God was so obsessed with the stupid little humans. They were so vile, so vulgar. Even if they knew right from wrong, they sometimes willingly chose what was wrong. I was confounded. Apparently asking questions is the same as undermining His authority. They thought I was going to grow my own free will. An angel who can think for themselves is a threat. And so, down I went. It was a pretty long fall actually. The landing was pretty unpleasant,” you try to lighten up the story.

“I’m sorry, ___,” Jin took a hold of your hands, “At least you still have the wings of an angel.”

“Yeah but they’re all black and tattered now. Yours are still beautiful and pristine.”

“I think your wings are beautiful too,” Seokjin said softly. You realized he was still holding your hands. You slowly retreat from his grasp. You don’t know how to handle the praise coming from the angel.

“Thanks, my darling angel. Anyway. This place is getting kinda boring. You wanna get dessert?” you suggest.

“You know me so well!” Seokjin agreed.

You found yourselves in a nearby gelato shop. You treat yourself to a coffee gelato, while Jin got chocolate gelato. The pair of you opt to sit outside and soak in the city life.

“I thought you didn’t like chocolate? I remember you turning your nose up to the best chocolate I’ve had in my life when we were in Switzerland,” you noticed his chocolate gelato.

“I like the chocolate flavor, but I don’t like chocolate,” Jin said casually, “I love strawberries, but I don’t like strawberry flavored things.”

“You’re so strange,” you let out a laugh. Jin laughed with you, his stoic image started to fade away. Afterward, you both sat comfortably in silence. Being in each other’s company was satisfying. It helped ease the loneliness that you refused to admit you had. Pondering your loneliness alongside your friend had your thoughts drifting to an interesting concept.

“Do you remember that time we decided to indulge in Earthly pleasures for the first time all those years ago? That decision was probably the best I’ve ever made. I love food,” you break the silence.

“I do remember that. I think I’m obliged to say that doing the Lord’s work was the best decision I’ve ever made. But I guess I didn’t really have a choice,” his voice trailed off, “Besides that, eating food with you was probably my best decision too,” Jin smiled, revealing his bread cheeks.

“What if we indulge in a different Earthly pleasure tonight?” you suggest calmly, licking at your gelato.

“Other than food? What do you mean?” Seokjin’s eyes widened with curiosity.

“Haven’t you wondered why lust is such a strong motivating factor for humans?”

“I believe they reproduce for the survival of their species--”

“That’s not what I mean, you silly little angel. I’ve heard from several succubi that they really enjoy sex and--”

“Lust is a sin, ___. It’s literally one of the seven deadly sins,” Seokjin interrupted sternly.

“I said that humans are driven by lust. If we hypothetically partake in this, it would be for research reasons only. Wouldn’t you be of better service to mankind if you could understand them better?” you reason.

Frankly, you don’t give a damn about mankind. Never have and never will. The thought of getting intimate with the angel Seokjin has sparked an excitement in you that you hadn’t felt in ages. Persuasion is your forte, and you’re sure as hell gonna do your best to win him over. Seokjin was silent as he pondered over your proposal. His face was unreadable.

“I’ll admit I have been curious about it. I don’t understand why humans crave it so much,” Seokjin admitted. A smile slowly formed on your face.

“Does that mean you’ll indulge with me? Just as you did when we ate together all those moons ago?” you take his hands in yours.

“Fine, ___. I’ll indulge with you. But purely for research purposes,” Seokjin said firmly.

This city had been your dwelling place for the past couple of years so you had your own place. You giddily led the angel to your apartment. You had been waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity. Seduction wasn’t part of your job, so you never partook in such activities. It was mischief alone that was your specialty.

When you finally arrived at your apartment, you instructed Jin to wait outside for a couple of minutes while you tidied up the place. With a snap of your fingers, your humble abode was free of any trash and not a speck of dust was to be found. After wondering about what would help set “the mood”, you decided on lighting candles. You figured the dim lighting would help create a sensual atmosphere. The final touch was slipping into promiscuous black lingerie. You had a complete set: stockings, garter, corset, and a bra. You twirled in front of a mirror and was satisfied with the look. You felt like the epitome of a seductress. You made your way to the front door and swung it open, striking a seductive pose. You nearly burst out into a fit of laughter when you saw Jin’s eyes wide with shock and mouth agape.

“You...you look...nice,” Jin stuttered.

“Come on in, my darling angel,” you waved a single finger at him.

Seokjin timidly stepped inside. You took his hand and led him to your bedroom; the walkway was lined with candles. You closed the bedroom door behind Jin as you heard him gulp nervously.

“You scared, Jin?” you teased. Jin couldn’t make eye contact with you. You could barely see his faint blush in the dim lighting.

“No. Maybe a bit nervous. I thought we would just get down to it,” Jin let out an annoyed sigh before finally making eye contact, “And it’s Seokjin. Not Jin.”

“Go straight to fucking? Without foreplay? Aw you really are such a little angel, aren’t you? You sweet sweet vanilla baby boy,” with each word you crept closer to him, eventually wrapping your arms around his neck. He smelled like a mixture of warm honey and wildflowers. His scent was intoxicating. You couldn’t resist any longer as you planted a gentle kiss on his neck, causing him to groan lightly.

“Oh? You like that?” you whispered sweetly.

“I never realized our corporeal bodies were so sensitive,” Jin replied quietly.

“You’re still so tense, angel,” you observed as you massaged his broad shoulders, “I can help you unwind. Part of the fun of sex is indulging in the pleasure, so I’ve heard,” you say as you guide Jin to the bed.

“Let’s make some things clear,” you say as you straddle Jin, “Firstly, you can touch me. I don’t wanna be doing all the work. Secondly, don’t be afraid to act on any urges. I can assure you I can handle whatever you wanna do. Lastly, do you trust me?” you ask. Jin blinked blankly.

“Generally, I’m pretty sure a demon is never to be trusted. But since it’s you, I guess I’ll make an exception. I trust you, ___,” Jin said sincerely.

“I’m touched,” you smile, “Now take off your shirt and pants,” you demand, climbing off of him. Jin complied. Left in only his underwear, he sat on the bed awaiting your next instructions. You soaked in the sight of him. He was fit; his physique had your mouth watering.

“Perfect,” you say, seductively crawling back on top of him.

You lock eyes as you straddle his hips. You lean in slowly, eyes wandering to his plush lips. Jin does the same, leaning towards you ever so slightly. Your lips met gently. After relishing the tender moment, you kiss him more intensely. To your surprise, Jin met you with the same intensity. His hands started to wander as well. Starting with a firm grip on your ass, his hands traveled slowly up to your breasts.

“I don’t think I can fully appreciate you with all this on,” Jin breathed heavily after he broke from the kiss.

“What a cheeky angel. Be patient, love,” you notice a change in Jin’s eyes. There was an intense gaze of lust pouring from his dark brown eyes. It turned you on.

You laid him down and whispered, “Now the fun can begin.”

A blindfold manifested out of thin air and into your hand. Jin looked at the object curiously. He didn’t protest when you wrapped it over his eyes. You smiled at the fact that he truly did trust you.

You kissed him again. You couldn’t get enough of his velvety soft lips. You dared to slip your tongue in his mouth delicately. Seokjin pulled you closer to him as he reciprocated with more aggression. His boldness caused you to let out a small moan.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Seokjin stopped immediately after he heard you. His genuine concern caused you to chuckle.

“I don’t think you’re capable of hurting me, sweet boy. Keep doing what you’re doing,” you say before going back for another kiss.

You reluctantly pull away from Jin’s sweet lips, gently placing wet kisses down his neck and along his chest. You kitten lick one of his nipples as you pinch and twist the other. Jin seemed to enjoy this as his breathing became uneven and he let out tiny moans.

You travel further down to position yourself between his thighs. His erection was obstructed by his underwear. You tug it off, allowing it to free itself. The length was impressive, and his girth was just as satisfying.

You slowly started pumping your hand along his shaft. As soon as you held him, Jin shuddered. You were amused by how sensitive he was. You gave his tip a few kitten licks as you hand was still slowly dragging along his cock. This caused Jin to shift underneath you, and his soft moans were getting louder. You stopped teasing him as you took his entire length in your mouth. Being a divine being gave you small perks such as not having a gag reflex. You sloppily bobbed your head up and down his cock, listening to his sweet groans of pleasure. Hands soon grip your hair, and now Jin was guiding your rhythm.

“Ahh ___... I think I’m gonna...my body feels weird,” Jin muttered between groans.

Without warning, Jin released his load into your mouth. You were surprised by the sudden outburst and pulled away too late. What didn’t land in your mouth splattered all over your chest.

“Huh. So angels can ejaculate. Wild,” you say, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, “You don’t taste half bad, angel. But you did get my lingerie messy,” you tsked.

“I think I’m starting to understand why humans enjoy this so much. Sorry about your clothes, I guess you have to take them off now,” Jin proposed.

“I suppose you’re right,” you chuckle. With a snap of your fingers, the lingerie magically vanishes.

“I wanna feel what you felt,” you whined.

“Do you want me to fuck you now?” Jin asked.

“What else would you do?” you teased.

“You could sit on my face and I can reciprocate the oral sex,” Jin offered.

His straightforward way of talking never ceased to amaze you. It was no surprise that he would talk this way even in the bedroom. You grinned as you positioned your thighs on each side of his head.

“You sure about this?” you ask.

“Sit on my face, ___,” Jin said impatiently.

You slowly lowered yourself onto Jin’s face. You carefully made sure you that the lips lined up. You rested your intimate part gently on Jin’s lips. You shuddered with delight as he licked a long gentle strip along your pussy. Jin began to explore you with his tongue.

“You’re still too far away,” he grunts as he places his hands on your hips and roughly pulls you closely to him.

His nose was buried in your pussy at this point. He darted his tongue in and out of you, causing you to gasp. He brought his hand around to play with a nub located above your opening. Somehow, he figured out that this little nub was extremely sensitive, as you nearly doubled over when he applied pressure on it. You could faintly hear a low chuckle under you as the pressure on your clit increased. Jin’s thumb ferociously played with your clit as his tongue flicked inside you. Your legs began to shake and your moans got louder and more drawn out.

“Jin! Fuck that feels amazing. Don’t stop. My body is starting to feel weird too,” you cry out.

Soon enough, a wave of euphoria coursed throughout your body as you released your juices all over his face. You fell beside him, chest heaving.

“How was that?” Jin asked, licking around his mouth, “You don’t taste too bad yourself, Mother of Murder.”

“You flatter me, angel. You didn’t correct me when I said Jin!” you observed, taking off his blindfold.

“I actually thought it was pleasant. Hearing you moan out my nickname like that spurred me on for some reason,” Jin sighed.

“Oh so you like when I moan out your name? You’re such a naughty angel,” you jokingly admonish, “We still haven’t gotten to the finale yet.”

“Do you want me to fuck you now?” Jin asked.

“Yes, my darling angel. I want you to fuck me now,” you say curtly, “How do you want to take my virginity?” you bat your eyes innocently at him, spreading your legs out.

“Like this would be fine. I think I’d enjoy seeing your face,” Jin leaned down for a passionate kiss, complete with tasteful tongue usage.

Breaking the kiss, he aligned himself with your entrance. He gazed at you tenderly before you nodded at him, signaling for him to proceed. He slowly slipped inside, and you relished every inch of him. The new sensation of the stretch was a bit painful at first, but it soon was replaced with a foreign bliss. You let out a low moan when he finally bottomed out. Eyes fixated on each other, Jin wordlessly began to thrust in and out of you. The bliss was enjoyable, but you craved more. Jin was going too slowly for your taste (even though it was an impressive pace already by human standards).

“Faster. Harder. Fuck me harder, Jin,” you pleaded, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood.

Jin complied, now thrusting with more force at a faster rate. Jin was having a hard time controlling himself, as his grunts started to mix with your moans. You clawed at his back, leaving red streaks across it. Jin suddenly hoisted one of your legs over his shoulder, allowing him to plunge deeper. You let out a high pitched squeal at the sudden switch up. You began to feel a familiar tingle in your lower region.

“Jin, I’m close,” you panted.

“Me too, my darling demon. Let’s finish together, shall we?” Jin replied, sweat dripping from his brow.

It only took a couple more thrusts before you both reached your limits. You felt Jin’s hot cum fill you up as he let out a final groan. You could barely hear him over your own lewd cry as your orgasm hit you hard. As your juices mixed, Jin collapsed on top of you. You wrapped your arms around him and held him tenderly against your chest. You laid together in silence for a while with synchronized breathing before Jin broke the silence.

“Do you think I’ll fall from Grace now? I indulged in the sin of lust. I don’t think the guys upstairs will understand that it was for research purposes,” Jin sounded worried.

“Do you regret it?” you asked quietly.

“Oddly enough, no. It was fun. I’m just worried because I’ve been an angel since the beginning of time. I don’t know how I’ll be anything else,” Jin admitted.

“Have your superiors ever checked up on you since they plopped you onto Earth?”

“Only once, close to the beginning. I never realized that they never check up on me. Does this mean they won’t find out?” Jin’s voice started to pick up.

“I won’t tell your superiors if you don’t tell mine! Although, I don’t think mine would care that much,” you laugh, hugging Jin closer to you.

“Deal. Wow, I really just made a deal with a devil huh?” Jin laughed at his own joke. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and kiss him on the forehead.

“You know...we don’t have to part ways just yet. Stay the night. Let’s snuggle together and pretend we’re humans in love,” you whisper to him.

“Sure, I’ll stay the night. You don’t have to be human to know what love is, you know?” Jin crept up to kiss you gently.

“Shut up, angel. No more mushy talk. Just cuddle me and so I can fall asleep faster,” you snapped.

You switch positions so that you could nuzzle yourself into Jin’s chest. You both fell asleep in each other’s embrace, in each other’s arms and wings. You’ve never felt more at peace than this moment, in which you and Jin were entangled in each other’s wings. Neither of you noticed it, but your wings got a little lighter that night. Neither of your noticed, but Jin’s wings got a little darker that night.

#bts smut #kim seokjin smut #creaturesofmm #bangtanshadowfamily #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #good omens #angel bts #demon bts #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #bts angst #bts comedy #kim seokjin x reader

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callboxkat · 3 years

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Those Long, Lonely Nights (part 1/6)

Author’s note: This is a retelling of the story These Deep Dark Woods, but from Roman’s perspective, plus a few new scenes. I recommend reading that story first, but this can also stand alone. Please read the warnings!

Summary: Roman, a knight, insists on accompanying his best friend Logan, a potion maker, when he decides to head into the notoriously dangerous woods bordering their home to find some rare herbs and minerals for his apothecary. They find much more than they bargained for when they encounter Remus, a bloodthirsty giant. Logince. Angst with a happy ending.

Warnings: food mention, blood, injuries, death mention, killing mention, gun mention, mild body horror (it’s Remus), disturbing imagery (it’s Remus), character death, temporary/believed character death, kidnapping, guilt, attempted self sacrifice, talk of giants, vampires and other monsters. Very unsympathetic villain Remus.

Word Count: 1764

Part 2

Ao3 Link

Writing Masterpost!

...

Roman bounded down the bustling street, waving to familiar passerby as he went. He knew he was easy to pick out and very recognizable, in his white knight’s uniform. Despite the early morning, many people were already up and about, setting up for the day, but the street lamps still glowed—a recent installation, they actually ran on electricity! Roman still didn’t quite understand how that worked, but he was proud to see his settlement prospering, and it was fascinating, how much light came from them, just from a few little wires and some glass. Perhaps there was some sort of enchantment involved.

“Good morning, Sir Roman,” a shopkeeper called.

Roman tabled his nerdy thoughts for the time being. He put on a bright smile and approached the shop, where a woman stood sweeping clear the welcome mat. “Good morning to you, Maryanne!”

The woman put aside the broom and dusted her hands off on her apron. “Would you like a pastry? The peaches just arrived from Mellow Valley, and they are simply delightful in a fruit tart.”

Roman hummed consideringly. “Oh, that’s very tempting, but I’m afraid I’m in a rush this morning!”

“Some other time, then. Perhaps you could even bring that handsome young man you’re always with.” She winked.

Roman really hoped he wasn’t blushing. “Of course—you know I love your treats.”

Roman was on his way to his shift guarding the outer wall, an imposing structure built of shining gray stone that protected the citizens of his home from the monsters that roamed the forest beyond. It was an important job, entrusted to the expertise of the knights, and one that Roman loved doing; but it wasn’t always the most exciting prospect. Their settlement, Old Haven, was one of the longest standing, enough so that most of the monsters had known since generations past to stay well away; and between the few times that things truly got exciting... they could be terribly dull.

But, before Roman went to his shift that morning, he had a stop to make, and this he was definitely looking forward to.

The apothecary was located just a couple of blocks from the main square, in a small, warmly colored cedar and stone building with windows filled with neatly arranged bundles of colorful herbs and evenly spaced rows of bottles of medicinal powders and potions. A hand-painted sign read, Please come in, in neat, white letters, in an only slightly decorative script.

Roman reached the shop just as the door opened, the bell overhead chiming. A customer stepped out, dressed in a dark robe with the hood up. At first glance, he seemed to be clothed entirely in black, but on closer inspection, his robe was actually a deep plum color. He clutched a bottle of pomegranate juice in one pale hand and a neatly sealed packet of herbs in the other. Dark bangs poked out from under the hood, but his face was cast in shadow. Roman frowned slightly noticing the dark, grayish veins in his hands as he stepped back to give the man room. He hurried past Roman and disappeared down the street. Roman stepped inside the apothecary once he was gone.

The apothecarist, Logan, stood behind a counter within the shop, wearing an elegant, navy colored coat and his usual pair of spectacles. He was pushing together a pile of coins on the counter. Copper and bronze coins only, Roman noticed. No silver.

“Got a lot of vampire clientele?” Roman asked, leaning (or perhaps posing) against one of the display cabinets.

Logan looked up, the warm lamplight making his deep blue irises glitter in a way that never failed to make Roman’s heart skip a beat. He glanced back down and finished tucking away the money. “Six,” he said honestly. “Seven, most likely, although she has not personally shared that information with me, and if she is, hers appears to be a mild case.”

“Hm.”

“You don’t approve?”

“Ah… they’re a little too similar to monsters, for my taste.”

“It is a monster-derived affliction, that is true, but with modern treatments, most of those afflicted with vampirism can lead nearly normal lives.”

Roman shrugged dismissingly, waving him off. He hadn’t come here to talk about vampires. “I know, I know. Anyway. How’s my favorite nerd this morning?”

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” Logan sighed.

“You know you love it.”

Logan did not deny it, Roman noticed with a small smile. Instead, he adjusted a few already perfectly positioned potion bottles on the counter, before saying, “I am well, although rather busy.”

Roman glanced around the room, noticeably empty of customers. “Ah yes, this is a very busy time for your shop, I see.”

“A customer did depart only moments ago,” Logan pointed out. “Although, no, I was not referring to customers. I’m preparing for an outing.”

“An outing?” Roman was interested, now. “Finally taking a little vacation, are you? Good on you. Where are you going? And more importantly—can I come?”

Logan wanted to smile, Roman could tell. But he didn’t. The guy took himself too seriously. “Not that type of outing. I require materials to restock my shop.”

Roman sighed dramatically, making it a full body motion. So much for a vacation. And the hot springs in the hills of northern Old Haven were so nice this time of year. “So? Just put it on the list for the traders. Mellow Valley should have most of your things in season by now. Did you hear the peaches arrived? Maryanne, that baker on Lilac, promised me some of her delightful pastries. We could go get some, when I’m finished with my shift on the South Wall this morning.”

Logan shook his head “Mellow Valley won’t have everything I need; and besides, the costs are considerably lessened when the materials are personally collected.”

Roman furrowed his brow. “Collected where?”

“Outside.”

“You mean outside, like, as in the park, right?”

“In the woods,” Logan sighed, beginning to sound exasperated.

Roman opened his mouth, then closed it again. The woods. The veritable ocean of dense trees beyond the settlement’s walls, filled to the brim with monsters, held back from advancing only by the strength of the guard and broken only by the occasional human stronghold and the heavily protected trails that linked them. Generally, only knights and the traders they accompanied ever ventured beyond the walls—this was, in fact, why Roman had become a knight in the first place, to get to see some of the world that most only saw through pictures and stories. Citizens were allowed to leave—they weren’t prisoners—but it was very rare, and highly discouraged. Many who went unprepared—or even those who did—never returned; and sometimes even those who did return were not the same as when they left—like the vampires who apparently frequented this shop, or at least one or more of their ancestors. Vampirism could be tricky like that. Sometimes it cropped up randomly, somewhere down the line.

Logan had begun sorting through some of his supplies, acting for all the world as if he hadn’t just announced he had a death wish.

Roman shook off his distracted thoughts of vampirism and knightly missions, and focused on the most important thing: “Please tell me you aren’t planning to go out there alone.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Logan sighed. “I will have my dagger, and I will go no further into the woods than required.”

“Oookay, first of all, why am I just now hearing that you’ve been hanging out in the monster-filled woods by yourself?”

“I would hardly call it ‘hanging out’.”

“And second of all, you are absolutely not doing that.”

Logan gave him a dry look. “Yes, I am. My herbs will not pick themselves.”

“Get a garden like a normal person.”

“You know I have a quite extensive garden.” Logan paused, looked confused. He shook his head, going back to counting bundles of tiny black seeds. “Some of these herbs do not naturally grow within human settlements, let alone ours, and my attempts to recreate their preferred environment have in many cases proven thus far unsuccessful. Besides, I cannot ‘get a garden’ to form mineral deposits, several of which are required in even non-specialty potions.”

Roman still didn’t quite see why Logan wouldn’t be able to get all of this stuff using a trader. Knowing Logan, it was less about the money and more about needing to personally ensure that he received the correct materials. Surely, though, even the least-versed in medicinal resources could get him what he needed, if he described them well enough.

Also knowing Logan, though, he would not be dissuaded from going.

Roman pulled himself up to his full height, puffing out his chest and putting one hand on the protective-charm engraved hilt of his sword. “Alright, then, I am coming with you.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You’re coming to collect herbs? Can you even tell wormwood from hemlock?”

“I’m not going to find your nerd plants, I’m going to protect you.”

Logan scoffed quietly, clearly believing Roman’s very generous and heroic offer was unnecessary. But he sat down on his stool, finally, and looked at Roman without busying himself with his apothecarist duties. He glanced Roman up and down, apparently trying to decide how serious Roman was. “Alright, then, if you insist.”

“I do!” Roman nodded firmly. He relaxed his posture. “So, when are we going?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes?”

“I—” Roman groaned, looking up towards the wooden beams of the ceiling. “Fine. It’s a little short notice, but fine.” He worked his jaw, then mumbled, “I’ll need to cancel a couple days… maybe Sir Leo can cover? Hm.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, adjusting his spectacles and watching Roman’s dramatics. “I am not forcing you to come.”

You are, though. “Well, I am.”

“Alright.”

A beat passed in silence, Roman feeling triumphant, before Logan gave the knight a slightly amused look. “I thought you had a shift on the wall?”

“I—right. Yes.” Roman had gotten a little distracted. He took a couple of steps back. “So, you, me, tomorrow, woods. Great.” He turned towards the door, stopped, and turned around. “About those pastries?”

Logan hummed. “I can take a break two hours after noon, which is when your shift ends, if I remember correctly. I suppose I would accept one then.”

“They have fruit in them,” Roman encouraged. “That makes them healthy!”

“I do not believe that is entirely correct.”

Roman grinned and left the shop.

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chaseatinydream · 3 years

Text

pirate king (39) || atz

You aren’t sure whether you heard her wrongly.

“No?” The word bounces around in your head several times, as if mocking you over and over again. You’re stunned into disbelief. You’ve traveled the ocean, battled a furious storm, got chomped through the arm by a crazy siren, all to be told that the sea witch before you does know everything about who you were before, but is unwilling to tell you?

Your captain scowls, fingers tightening on the hilt of his cutlass as he glares at the sea witch in the eye. “You said that you’d answer her questions.”

She doesn’t flinch in the least, even when he draws the weapon on her. Instead, her eyes merely darken like a stormy sky, and suddenly, the winds around her starts to pick up as if in response to her anger, rising to a whistling howl that whips your hair into your eyes and stings your skin. “Correction. I said that I would answer the questions to the best of my ability. Fortune shines upon you, mortal, that my lady’s blessing protects you. Do not test me. It is only by her grace that you can even step foot on this beach.”

Hongjoong doesn’t back down, cutlass still raised.

“Wait, wait, wait-” You’ve been completely ignoring their little face off for the last few minutes, trying to fully understand what on earth is happening. You want to rip out your hair and scream, but now’s not the time for that. “Why… Why?”

Eldoris’ expression remains completely neutral, as if her features have been carved from stone. Her pokerface could give San’s a run for its money any day.

“I agreed to answer all the questions you had for me within my power. This one is one I cannot answer.”

Your face goes flat as you battle to keep from swearing in front of this supposedly powerful sea witch, you’re tempted to smack her in the face and shake her back and forth, screaming in her face. The words tumble out of your words before you can stop them.

“So you know about me before I got into this body,” you gesture to yourself frantically, “and you know how I came to be in it, you also know why I lost my memories, but you just don’t feel like telling me?”

The last words are spat out with fury and for a moment, you swear you can see the sea witch flinch a little, guilt flitting across her face. But she breathes in deeply and answers your question with an even voice.

“I wish to help you in any way I can, but I cannot tell you the answer to this.”

She’s as unhelpful at answering your questions as San when it comes to steering the ship and you literally on the verge of throwing a hysterical fit when something finally strikes as odd at the way she has replied to you so far.

“You won’t tell me…” You ask hesitantly, studying her face for a change of each expression. “Or you can’t tell me?”

At that, her shoulders relax slightly, as if relieved that you’ve finally gotten it. She nods, neutral expression closest to earnest you’ve ever seen.

“I cannot.”

You feel like you’ve been smacked across the face with a dead fish.

“Then can you tell me why you cannot?”

Those words seem to lift a weight of her shoulders, even though the light in her eyes remain grim as ever when she nods once more. The next words that leave her mouth have you even more shocked than you were before.

“I am bound by an unbreakable oath to my mistress with my very soul as collateral.” She says softly, each word serious as grave. Your eyes widen in stunned disbelief. “To not reveal or impart knowledge of who you were before you came to be in this body to you, or anyone else, no matter how desperately they beg for it, in case you ever regain your memories.”

What? Her soul as collateral?

“Wait… this mistress you’re talking about…” You force out, trying desperately not to hyperventilate. This is honestly getting too crazy for your brain to handle. “Who is she?”

At those words, a proud gleam comes into her eye and she straightens her back, meeting your gaze with a look you don’t quite understand.

“What the mortals call the sea goddess.”

At that, you do choke. You’ve been hearing these terms being thrown around so casually, sea witch, fortune teller, ancient magic, but hearing Eldoris say the words with so much confidence and surety seals everything for you. Magic is real. Then the meaning of what she’s just said hits you like a tidal wave.

“What would the sea goddess want with me? Why does she not want me to regain my memories?” You sputter out, burying your hands in your hair as you try to make sense of it all. Have you offended the sea goddess herself in the past? Is she playing some sort of sadistic joke on you?

But Eldoris merely shakes her head once, her eyes pleading for you to understand.

“It’s for your own good, Chin Hae-” She begins, but you’ve finally had enough. Everything in you snaps like a caving dam and anger floods through you, the wind howling in your ears furiously as the waves break against the reef barrier to swirl around your feet.

“Why? How can losing my memories possibly be for my own good? Curse the sea goddess, I’m going to freaking murder her, I-”

Eldoris’ next words are as clear as the sky.

“If you recover your memories, you’ll die.”

Every part of your body seems to turn to ice simultaneously, blood freezing in your veins as you stare at her, unmoving. Your mind is completely silent except for that one sentence, resounding again and again in your head.

If you recover your memories, you’ll die.

You can barely register Hongjoong’s arms pulling you to him as he tries to reassure you, but his words simply drift past your ears like the whistling of the wind.

You’ll die you’ll die you’ll die-

“What do you mean?” You hear your captain demand, and you desperately try to pull the shreds of your focus together so you can hear her explanation.

Eldoris stares at you gravely.

“Regaining her memories means her death.” The sea witch says gently, a pitying look in her eye as she shakes her head in response to Hongjoong’s question. “A degradation of the physical body that now contains her essence, to be more exact. They are trapped within the body she resides in. If you free them, her body dies too.”

The fortune teller’s words come back to you hauntingly.

You will never find what you so desperately seek as long as you live.

You stare at your own hands in horror. This cursed shell, this body of clay, it’s the thing that’s keeping you apart from your memories? For the first time ever since you discovered you’re a golem, you feel truly hollow, a gaping, empty hole in your chest where your heart lies, where your memories are held.

A muffled scream breaks free from your throat and your knees feel weak, your legs crumple and you hunch over the ground with your hands tearing at your hair. You feel like you want to physically rip your brain from your skull and demand for it to spit out your memories now, because you’d rather regain your memories right this second and die, in comparison to the agony of living the rest of your life without knowing who you are.

Your breath catches as you stare at the cutlass hanging at your side.

Maybe… maybe if you just…

You’re so tempted to, gods, your memories are just within your reach. It’s all you’ve ever wanted the second you woke up, and now you can finally have them. It’s in your grasp. It’s all in your hand.

All you have to do is take it.

Your fingers inch for your cutlass.

“Chin Hae, no!” Hongjoong catches your wrist before you can clench your fingers around the hilt and you’re jerked out of your trance to stare at him, still dazed. His bright green eye is terrified, swallowed by concern and fear, and then a painful, heart wrenching sensation twists in your chest.

Hongjoong’s cries when he endured the whipping for you, the sound of skin tearing with every lash and the metallic scent of blood in the air.

San’s bright smile as he held your hands in his, healing the scrapes on your palms, softly guiding you through each step of the process.

Yeosang’s shudder as three bullets hit him in the back, ripping through his flesh, blood gushing from his wounds.

Mingi’s gaze as he sat with you on that pink, sandy beach, telling you about his captain and crew with a fond smile on his face.

Seonghwa’s laughter as you burnt yet another steak and he ate it anyway with a smile on his face, praising you for your improvement under his tutelage.

Yunho’s sigh when he stood in that crow’s nest with you, the story about him and his brother falling from his lips as the sun rose before you.

Jongho’s chuckle as he swiped a cream bun straight from your hands before popping it into his mouth, laughing at the pout on your face before dropping his cake into your lap.

Wooyoung’s earnest smile as he hands you the silver hairpin with hesitant eyes, your fingers brushing as you stare at it in awe.

Through your tears you laugh in despair, burying your face in your hands. On one hand, ever so enticing, lie your memories, your history, your identity. You so badly want to take it, more than anything else, but on the other hand…

“I name you Choi Chin Hae, family of the ATEEZ crew.”

Your heart splits in two from the sheer pain of the choice you have to make. For a moment, when you close your eyes, you see someone staring back at you in your mind.

It’s the green eyed man.

You’re back on that beach once more, sky dotted with stars. There are tears running down your cheeks as you feel the breath of the wind in your lungs, the steady beating of your heart in your chest for the first time. He smiles at you so fondly as you reach out and hold him close, his hand running through your hair.

“I believe it, I know it, I can see it. I trust that you can make your path the right one. You will find a name deserving of you, given to you by those who love you. Take this and go to the town of Raguza. Your journey begins there.” He whispers into your ear and you nod, sniffling and moving back as he presses a kiss to your temple. Around your shoulders he puts a coat of land cloth, something that has not touched you in millenia. A red rose is embroidered on the back. “Your fate intertwines with a mortal once more.”

You turn towards the sea, one foot touching the waves, and you hesitate. It’s as if your eyes are drawn to him, you glance over your shoulder to meet his gaze one last time. But you cannot linger for long, already you can feel your new body beginning to crumble ever so slowly into clay once more.

He hasn’t moved from the beach, although his smile turns sad.

“You don’t have much time. Go, and don’t look back.”

His name swirls around in your mind like a final memory, before it spirals into the air and vanishes with the wind.

Don’t look back.

Like a breath of air, the vision fades and you’re staring into your captain’s eye once more, his arms tight around you as he begs you desperately again and again not to leave them.

He’s trembling against you, his fingers digging into your wrists as if he’s trying to physically prevent you from doing anything rash. Incoherent mumbles fall from his mouth, all beseeching you to stay, not to do anything foolish, and that’s when you have your answer.

It hurts you so much to give up on your memories like this. But you know, deep within you, that giving up on them would be a fate worse than death.

So, closing your eyes one last time, you imagine the you from before in your mind.

She appears, standing upon the ocean waves as she looks at you in the eye. Both of you are eerily identical, though her skin seems to be luminous and crystal-like as a figment of your imagination, her eyes shifting colours like the mermaid you had seen on the stone wall outside. She smiles at you, a quirk to her mouth that seems both happy and wistful at the same time, her hair flying with the sea breeze as you make your choice. You raise your hand in farewell, reluctance tearing at every fibre of your being.

“Goodbye.”

With those words, she closes her eyes and simply melts away into seafoam, swirling with the waves and disappearing from sight.

“Chin Hae? Chin Hae?” Your captain is shaking you now, and you stare at him for a moment, trying to remember who you are and what you’re doing. Then you see wetness starting to gather at the corners of his eyes and it suddenly hits you.

“I’m not-” The words get caught in your throat, so you pause to swallow and before you try to speak once more. “I’m not… I’m not going to leave all of you behind.”

At that, your captain visibly sags in relief, slumping against you, but it’s nothing compared to the weight that falls from your shoulders. The moment you declared that, it became the truth. You would stay with the crew no matter what. You understand how Seonghwa could leave Nassau behind and stay on the Treasure instead now, because the crew were his family.

Eldoris’ eyes pierce yours like a blade, although something in her seems relieved.

“So, what will you do now?”

You shrug as Hongjoong picks himself off the ground, reaching out a hand to help you up. You take it.

“I’ll go wherever the Treasure goes.” You say, and the words are light, as if you’ve been freed from invisible chains that had been holding you down. Your memories are well and truly out of your grasp, you have no more goal to chase after. Hongjoong takes your hand and squeezes tight, fingers locking with yours.

Eldoris nods, although a little hesitant this time. Her deep blue eyes meet yours.

“I’m glad that you found what you had been searching for this whole time, Choi Chin Hae.” She tells you, but her words are solemn, and something tells you she’s not talking about your memories. You frown, but you’re honestly not in the mood to play anymore mind games with the sea witch.

But you do have one final question you want answered before you leave this island behind you forever.

“The name of the green eyed man… do you know it?”

You at least want to know the name of the mysterious man who has been in your dreams for so long. Eldoris shakes her head, and you feel your heart sink in disappointment.

“He has no name.”

At that, you’re a little startled. He doesn’t have a name? How can anything on this earth not have a name? But the sea witch continues speaking.

“For divine beings such as he, he is omnipresent, the closest thing to all powerful any conscious can reach.” She says the words with such reverence you almost feel like you should bow before her. You flinch at the word divine, brows furrowed in confusion. “But they have no souls as the mortals do, they are merely consciousnesses formed of great power. In the end, when this world dies, they will fade away and cease to exist, even when the souls of humans dwell on forever. Thus they have no names, for they have no imprint upon this world.”

Your heart sinks in your chest as you think of the green eyed man, his gentle smile lingering in your mind. The thought of him simply becoming… nothing… it scares you, even though you barely know him.

“But they do call each other by the words that the Creator called them into existence with.” You startle a little in surprise when the sea witch’s voice takes on an almost melancholy tone. “I cannot speak the words myself with this human tongue, for only creatures created at the beginning of time can, such as the Kraken. I so dearly wish I could do the same and address my mistress with spoken word, but...”

Now you’re just confused.

The sea witch trails off and shakes her head, bringing herself back to the present. “Either way, they have no souls as the humans do, thus they cannot be named. Mortals have attempted to name them many times, but their simple, spoken words can only capture the physical aspect of them. No mortal can ever name a divine being.”

You have absolutely no idea what she’s saying at this point, so you merely nod in an impression of understanding.

“Thank you, Eldoris, for the body you have given me.”

The sea witch pauses and looks at you straight in the eye. Something about the way she’s does so makes you shiver uncomfortably.

“I wish you all the best.” Her eyes burn into yours with the intensity of a million suns. Swallowing uncomfortably, you let Hongjoong take you by the arm and the two of you walk back to the cave, hand in hand.

He squeezes your fingers and you look at him, his eyes gentle on yours.

“What are you going to do now?” He asks again, as if he needs to hear it from your lips once more. You smile at your captain, taking a deep breath as you imagine the faces of all of your crew who are waiting for you back on the ship.

“Let’s go home.”

And the two of you leave the beach behind, never looking back.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #mingi #san #wooyoung #jongho #ateez pirate king #w; ot8 #w; pirate king #w; fanfiction

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

Note

ngl voyager gets a whole lot of very disproportional hate from the fandom and i'd hazard a guess that a lot of that is just garden-variety misogyny (and probably racism mixed in, considering how many of the most prominent characters are women, poc, or both). like, is voyager perfect? absolutely not. and no spoilers but there was a lot of executive meddling that wound up leading to the finale/conclusion being lacking and there's a lot of reasonable dissatisfaction with that--but again that was largely thanks to the execs fucking the show over and i recommend looking into that if you can once you've finished the show. but overall? voyager is trek right to its very core--it has heart, it's about family, and it never loses sight of that imo, even if some episodes are weaker or just duds (but, like, would it be a trek series without some episodes that just kinda suck but are still fun to watch???)

anyway, i absolutely love that you're getting into voyager, it is my all-time favorite trek series to this day for a lot of reasons, and i hope that ppl like that anon dont put you off bc i'd love to continue to see your thoughts as you watch the series!

Oh, it would take a whole lot more than some anons being salty that others enjoy things to turn me off :D

Thus far (I lost internet last night so I’m still only on Episode 7 of Season 2), Voyager is the Trekiest Trek I’ve watched. Which is a weird sentence, but I mean it in the way you said it’s “trek right to its very core.” What is Star Trek, if we strip the intent of the story down to its basics? It’s about exploration, discovery, that “wagon train to the stars,” wrapped up in the argument that life is fundamentally good. We have problems, but we can work past them. We have differences, but they strengthen us. Diversity is the lifeblood of the universe and the future will continue to improve so long as we embrace that.

Voyager is (again, from what I’ve seen so far!) basically a love song to that premise. I didn’t do too deep a dive because I’m trying to avoid spoilers, but I did look at a couple threads discussing why Voyager is so hated. Again and again I saw the same reason pop up: wasted potential. Now, a lot of fans left it at that (as if the answer to what potential Voyager apparently missed out on is self-evident. It’s not), but those who did expand on the idea consistently claimed that the show needed to be darker than it was, even if they rarely said it like that. Why aren’t the Federation and the Marquis at each other’s throats? Why isn’t the crew going crazy under these circumstances? Why aren’t characters getting killed off left and right in hostile space? “Anything could have happened out there and they played it safe!” but the “anything” here is always... awful. There’s this very pervasive idea that the world is inherently cruel, people are inherently divisive, that when pushed to the brink everything will fall apart... and that (while making for one kind of great story) is very much not Star Trek.

See, Voyager created an unimaginable scenario--lost in space, 75 years from home, forced to live indefinitely with strangers--and their answer to the question of “What happens?” is “People make it work.” They learn to respect one another, they uphold their ideals, they maintain a love of life and discovery, and they create a family. And that’s fucking fantastic. That’s Star Trek! I’m not going to pretend there aren’t problems with the show, with plenty more to come, I’m sure, but I don’t think this is one of them. Why do so many viewers think that hatred, horror, death, and growing jaded is the only potential here? Why would they expect that in a Star Trek show whose premise is the very antithesis of those things?

“But they don’t do enough with those things, even if they have happy outcomes.” They do plenty, they just do it in an episodic rather than serialized nature. I can point to multiple episodes where the replicator rations or Maquis differences are driving the characters’ actions. “But without that horror there’s no conflict.” There’s plenty of conflict. Hostile aliens aside, I just watched an episode where Tuvok and Chakotay are pissed as hell at one another because they fundamentally disagree over how to handle problems, but--because they’re adults with a well-tested respect for one another--they apologize and work through it. “But the characters don’t develop at all.” You mean they don’t grow harder. That’s not the same thing as no development. Tuvok is figuring out how to be more flexible, Chakotay is becoming more willing to accept cultures he doesn’t agree with, Harry is growing more confident now that he’s far from home, the Doctor is learning to see himself as a person, Paris is grabbing his second chance with both hands by making strong ties, and Janeway is learning to command and care for her crew simultaneously. I honestly believe that a lot of people think of “character development” as the character becoming a fundamentally different person, unrecognizable from where they started out. But characters can also grow into the people they wanted to be in the first place. “We’re far from home, in hostile territory, tempted to do horrific things to survive... but no. Right now at least, we’re holding onto who we are. We’re scientists, so we’re going to explore and learn. We’re peaceful, so we’re going to make friends with as many species as we can. We’re members of a society that teaches acceptance, so we’re going to form a family on this spaceship.” That’s incredible!! Did fans miss why Seska was an antagonist in the episode she was unmasked? Because she was trying to convince them to give up everything they believe in in the name of survival, an ends justify the means argument. And the crew said no, we will not give up what we believe in just to make it through. I legit saw a ton of fans saying some version of, “I can’t believe they were that far from home and actually followed Starfleet’s rulebook.” It’s because those rules don’t exist for the hell of it. Overlooking their practical function, they’re a philosophy that the characters believe in, and they’re figuring out how important that part of their identity is to them under these circumstances. Am I willing to steal a specie’s technology if it gets us home? Am I willing to die to help another uphold their own philosophy? (Chakotay in “Imitations”). What regulations should we bend or change to accommodate our new situation? The first two things Janeway does are a) giving the guy who just came out of a penal colony a rank and b) deciding that she needs to be more familiar with her crew than is normally encouraged for a captain because she’s essentially their mom now. Developing doesn’t have to mean characters do a 180 on their initial personality, or characters getting killed off when stuff gets “boring” so that others can do edgy things in response.

Voyager upholds Trek’s premise and runs it to its logical conclusion:

Voyager has the most literal trek--a trek back home.

Voyager has the most diverse crew--a woman Captain, Native American First officer, black Vulcan, Asian-American communications officer, and a White Dude pilot that realizes he wants to be soft and kind towards those who took a chance on him because Toxic Masculinity who?

Voyager has the most literal family--not just a 5+ year mission, but a crew who expects to raise the next generation. They have no choice but to work together, so they indeed come together rather than pulling apart

Except they do, of course, have a choice. In “The 37′s” the crew is allowed to stay on the Earth-like planet with a city of other humans and Janeway is convinced that a sizable number will choose that. After all, they may never get home and this is a safer, kinder future for them. In fact, the real question is whether so many will stay that they can no longer run the ship... but Janeway would never dictate her crew’s choices in that manner. So she swallows her worry down, opens the door...

... and finds that not a single person decided to stay behind. And the show has ensured we understand that this is not just because they all have some unshakable belief that they’ll get home (many don’t), but because this is their family now. This is home.

And fans want to toss that out for a generic, gritty, sci-fi adventure where hope is scarce, the universe is cruel, and people need to be pushed to the limit just to admit that they maybe, sort of, like each other?? Obviously like what you like, but that’s a hard pass for me. I’ll take the bridge crew comforting each other in “Twisted,” thanks. Besides, we already have shows like that. And we already have DS9 which grapples with many of those dark, pessimistic themes. Voyager feels like a breath of fresh air, even within the breath of fresh air that is Star Trek as a franchise. It’s a show that says, “Yes, when everything goes wrong people will come together. They will love each other. They will make it through.”

What’s more Star Trek than that?

#star trek #ST #mymetas #Anonymous

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toukenramblings · 3 years

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sorry, i know i'm going back to the swords i favor, but what kinds of stories will tsuru, mitsu, and hasebe tell? how do they tell them? surely, tsuru has to have at least some fun anecdotes rattling around him somewhere? thanks! sorry that i'm such a broken record ww i just love hearing your thoughts on them wwww

Rexyyyy, thank you so much for your patience while I was panicking over my finals. But here I am~! Tsuru, Mitsu, Hasebe storyteller headcanons! Let’s crack in!!

Warnings: NOne????????????????

hasebe reminds me of a puppy so take wishbone, the 90s kid show doggo who taught classic literature to kids

Tsurumaru Kuninaga

Oh Tsuru adores kids, going back to the headcanons/idea of him having a soft spot for them due to one of his former masters being a little one, he loves nothing more than to have a little one in his lap (or you, whatever works) and just...ramble on and on about stories and things.

He always loves making horror stories and ghost stories though, he’s super good at making shit up on the fly. After all, he has to when he’s playing so many damn pranks around the citadel.

MOst of his stories have all kinds of twists and turns, surprises in store. He tells them in the most wonderful of ways, with sound effects and arm/hand movements and a twinkle in his eyes and this passion that makes you follow him.

And then he lets out this random scream that scares the shit outta you, just to ensure that you’re paying attention.

Will Tsuru tell stories about shit that happens in the citadel? Of course! He’s always looking to make psychic damage against another TouDan...or you. Damn right he’ll make rumors about the saniwa.

Despite all of this, Tsuru does end his stories with some kinda morals. The good ones...the bad ones.....

“And that’s why you should never mistake salt and sugar...or get Kasen all dirty...or leave milk on the stove unattended...”

There are stories of him talking about himself and the reactions he got out of people, one of his favorite is the syrup incident....which will not ever be talked about around Kasen or Hasebe. Or Shokudaikiri.

Also very much into conspiracy theories. Think Creepypastas and Buzzfeed Unsolved but unhinged because he’ll be tempted to do some kind of dark ritual he found on the internet to see if it’s true or not. NO WE ARE NOT SACRIFICING OOKURIKARA TO A DEMON, PUT DOWN THE KNIFE-

But all in all, as much as Tsuru adores making up stories and telling of happenings around the citadel, there’s something about a good novel that makes him happy. He may not seem like it but he remembers a lot, and probably can tell someone page by page, word by word, about a book he read in the past few days - finished within a couple of hours.

Shokudaikiri Mitsutada

Micchan’s stories are also gentle, fairytale like in nature. He tells the best bedtime stories while rocking someone to sleep. Sada, another tantou, who knows! He tells stories of proud warriors, Western tales, and whatever comes to his mind! He isn’t as good as making up stories on the fly like Tsurumaru but he has a gentle sort of passion to it.

If Tsuru’s making sound effects and using his body to tell a story, Micchan is the one you want telling you a story as a fire roars to life in a fireplace. He’s the one giving you a cup of a warm drink as you can listen to his soft voice, low and gentle, a romantic story spinning at his lips.

Speaking of his voice, it’s so gentle? So soft???? The pERFECT ASMR VOICE????????

All of his stories have morals at the end. The good ones too. Like boogeyman stories but he’ll tone them down if someone doesn’t like those kinda stories. He gives out stories where the heroes win in the end, and everyone is happy.

But then there are times when Micchan will tell stories about the citadel. It’s rather tame stories of little anecdotes of their lives. Little things that paint everyone in a good light! He would never talk too bad about something or someone! Yes he’ll like...lightly scold them in a way, “Do not do as Tsuru-san did, playing pranks on someone jumpy like that will only end up as something terrible.”

Actually most of his stories are lessons of: DO NOT DO WHAT TSURUMARU DOES. MONKEY SEE, MONKEY GO BYE BYE AND RUNS TF AWAY FROM HIS SHENANIGANS

Shokudaikiri does enjoy reading books and like Tsuru, he will most likely have them memorized, especially if someone recommended him a book or its a book someone else likes and he cares about the said person.

Speaking of books, he will probably read all kinds of high fantasy novels or something? Other than cookbooks of course. Maybe travel books as well!

Horror stories??? Never heard of her. Micchan is TERRIFIED of horror stories. He won’t lie that they aren’t interesting or anything but nope. Don’t catch him reading a horror novel anytime soon.

Overall, the stories Micchan tells are sweet and gentle like he is! Stories that bring out the warm fuzzies and restore your faith in humanity, kinda stories.

Heshikiri Hasebe

Motherfucker can’t tell stories for shit. What are those? He’s just here to do work??????

But if you or a tantou or Hakata specifically ask very nicely of him, Hasebe will relent. He doesn’t like talking about the past at all, not about Oda or Nagamasa...he’ll struggle to come up with something off of the top of his head.

Luckily, he remembered seeing some books in your office meant for little ones. He picks out something simple for them, fairytales maybe? Something short and sweet. Maybe he picks out a happy little story? He...didn’t have much of a happy end, maybe he wanted to at least...let someone have a happy ending? Or just read about it? He knows that not all of them had happy endings...lord knows he didn’t. He just wants someone to be happy for once.

If anything he’ll tell them nonfiction tales of facts and knowledge, reading them a scientific book or some shit.

But if Hasebe did have to come up with a story, it’s pretty dry and straight to the point. It has a beginning, middle, and an end. It’s nothing important. Maybe it’s something about what happened in the citadel???

And then there’s the stories that are highkey dragging the other TouDan through the mud because of some fucking shit they pulled. He tends to ramble whenever he rants about another sword and you swear he’s going to blow a blood vessel or something.

“If that fool Tsurumaru tries to break ONE MORE item in this citadel, I will kill him. YEs, do not ever try to balance fifteen plates on your pinky finger, it will not lead to good outcomes.” “And thus, you now know how to wash blood out of white clothing. Don’t ever do what Namazuo did.” he swears his stories have lessons beneath his rambling...he thinks.

Most of the time, his stories do have morals! Yes sometimes he will break out the little boogeyman stories to drive home his point but...it...works?????? It has a lesson? It scares the pants outta people???? It gets the job...done???????????????????

Also cannot handle horror stories for shit either, despite him possibly spooking himself with his own stories. He’ll like...gloss over summaries of horror shit but nopey nope. That aint dope. its also based off of me, i read summaries of horror shit and get spooked and run

HAsebe isn’t...the best at storytelling? He tries his best, but it’s not his main purpose so to speak. But it doesn’t mean he won’t try. If it’s your order, he’ll learn to become the best storyteller he can! Until then....it’s....gonna need some work.

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