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#It's a shitty feeling but the only way out of it is true embrace your need to be loved and desire for human connection or it won't end well
angellesword · 2 days
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Love Is Not Black and White, It's Purple (Like Your Eyes) | JJK (oneshot)
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Summary: You and Jungkook are not soulmates. The fact that you have been married for ten years but still see in black and white proves that.
It is never an issue for you two until…
"Jungkook, my eyes… they're purple."
Jungkook's heart stops.
You can see colors now. It only means one thing:
You have met your real soulmate, and it's not Jungkook.
Genre & Content Warning: soulmate au, housemate au, mention of murder, past child abuse, domestic violence, fluff, crack treated seriously, attempt at humor, marriage au, established relationship, kissing, blind!jimin, fashion designer!taehyung, alcohol, cursing, HAPPY ENDING. (tags are just for formalities, but tbh this fic isn't heavy at all)
Pairing: Detective!Jungkook x Fashion Designer! Female Reader
Word Count: 7.5k
****
Out of all the suicide methods in history, Jungkook thinks that if he were to try one, it would still not be as effective as listening to you talk.
"Jungkook, my eyes...they're purple."
Really. You don't need a plastic bag, a rope, or a pillow to suffocate Jungkook. With your harsh words, Jungkook could feel the air leaving his lungs.
He can't breathe. The terrible realization asphyxiates him: you--his best friend--his wife, can now see colors. For a moment, Jungkook doesn't know what to make out of the fact that he's now alone in this monochromatic world—a place where people see in black and white until they look into their soulmates' eyes.
Jungkook has looked and drowned in your calamitous eyes before, but he never saw hues.
"Jungkook...?" 
Distantly, Jungkook hears you utter his name, but all he can grasp is you will abandon him. Jungkook is rarely wrong. He's a detective, after all. One word, and he can deduce the situation, making this whole ordeal more painful.
"That's..." Jungkook intends to hide his hurt, but he feels his voice getting choked up. He has no choice but to pause.
However, you are thrilled to hear what he has to say, so Jungkook forces himself to continue.
"...great. You, that's great. So great!" Perhaps repeating the same words can convince him that his statement is true. It's not. Jungkook's heart breaks when you beam at him.
Calm down. Jungkook tells himself. But he can't. Everything hurts. His heart, his soul, his words.
"So, tell me. Where's the divorce paper? Should I sign now?" Jungkook's words hurt like a knife. They cut your heart into pieces. 
"What the fuck are you talking about." Your face falls. "Shitty Jungkook, are you kidding me right now!? I'm not leaving you for someone I just met!"
Now, something about your reaction takes Jungkook's breath away. Maybe it's the anger that quickly turns into panic as you take in Jungkook's words. Or perhaps it's the apparent trembling of your lips as you desperately speak of your promise of forever. Either way, your fear-inducing expression somehow reassures Jungkook.
You and him are not over. Not yet, at least. 
"I'm just kidding~." Jungkook chuckles and clicks his tongue, "Of course, you're not leaving me. I'm the only one who can tolerate you, ya know?"
The joke doesn't lighten your expression at all.
"Jungkook, I'm not leaving you," you repeat. The assurance is softer this time, and despite the lack of color in your eyes, the detective can see determination in them.
Jungkook puffs out air. His heart aching a little less.
"I know, darling." Jungkook stops his jokes. He engulfs you in a warm embrace. "I'm sorry."
"Don't say that ever again." You wrap your arms around Jungkook's waist. "You're my best friend. I love you, alright?"
****
10 Years Ago; 2013
Unlike others, your relationship with Jungkook is reversed.
"Let's get married."
"The fuck?" You choke on your water the second Jungkook opens his mouth. "Are you high again, bastard!?"
You punch Jungkook mildly. The latter moves away, exaggeratedly cradling his jaw. "Ow! Why are you always so violent? Can't you hear me out first? I'm being serious here!"
"Serious?" You laugh incredulously. "You just asked me to get married!"
"Exactly!" Jungkook ignores the painful thug in his heart. "It's for our benefit. Didn't you say you want to live in PM Village?"
Apartments in PM Village are too damn expensive. You and Jungkook recently finished college; your individual income is not enough to cover the monthly amortization of a house, but it's different if your incomes are combined.
"You're crazy. We can't marry because of a fucking house, Jungkook!" You are still not convinced.
"Why not?" But Jungkook intends to change your mind. "We're both single, and divorce won't be difficult in the future. We can just tell the court we've found our real soulmates. Besides,"
The newbie detective drags his words, knowing that he'll be able to convince you in the end, anyway. "You're gonna be rich soon. You don't have any living family members anymore. Do you really wanna give away all your money to the government when you die?"
"Why? Is giving my money to you any better!?"
"I can at least maintain your wine cellar," Jungkook shrugs. "And just think about the tax benefits! Don’t you hate Hoseok-hyung for siphoning your money?”
You open your mouth to speak, but damn. Jungkook’s last statement has convinced you already. Nose flaring, you say, "Fine!"
It's like music to Jungkook's ears. "I need your full confirmation."
Jungkook really wants you to say it. You fold your arms across your chest, "Fine, Bastard! I agree with your absurd proposition. Let's get fucking married."
At the age of twenty-two, you and Jungkook tied the knot. Ten years later, most of Jungkook's predictions have come true: you two have settled in PM Village—a warm home with a wine cellar awaits you after a tiring day. You have also become so rich that you often have issues with Jung Hoseok, your country's tax agency commissioner. Thank fuck there are good lawyers out there to clear your tax cases. 
You clearly have everything life can offer. If you want, you can divorce Jungkook now, but ten years later, you are still very much committed to your best friend.
*****
Present; 2023
You insist on telling Jungkook who your soulmate is. Admittedly, you can tell that Jungkook finds the whole storytelling unnecessary. You are married, but it's not as if you two are in love with each other or something. Nope. Jungkook only sees you as an annoying woman with whom he cohabitates.
"So, has Technology asked you on a date yet?" Jungkook asks without looking at you. He's busy filing his nails, acting as if shaping his nails into perfect ovals is more important than conversing with you.
"First of all, his name is Taehyung. Not Technology, you asshole. And no, he hasn't asked me out." You exhale. "I mean, not yet. It's not a big deal, honestly. We just met yesterday." 
Translation: give my soulmate some time.
"Right." Jungkook mocks and yawns, finally glancing at you. "You know, if I meet my soulmate, I’ll immediately ask them out. I can’t waste time.”
"Oh, shut up." You roll your eyes. "We both know you just can't wait to sleep with them."
"He-He. You caught me~." Jungkook half-smiles before returning to the previous topic very smoothly, "So you're saying that if Techno—Taehyung asks you on a date, you'll say yes?"
"Will you mind if I do?" You sound nervous.
The sole purpose of this conversation is for you to test the waters with Jungkook. You both went on dates in the past after ensuring that the other was comfortable with the set-up. You are married, after all. It won't bode well with the both of you if cheating rumors erupt, especially in your respective workplaces.
Admittedly, it has been long since you two last went on dates. You were both busy with your jobs. Besides, isn't it exhausting getting to know strangers? Jungkook doesn't want to waste his breath on nosy people asking why he chose to be a detective, and you would rather ditch your date than deal with them bargaining for discounts once they find out you’re a prominent fashion designer.
Going out with strangers has become a nightmare instead of a fun way to meet your real soulmate. Because of this, you and Jungkook decided to just take each other out whenever you wanted. It's not exactly a romantic date. Sure, there's darling as a pet name, kisses under the moonlight, and wrestling who'll pay. But that's about it. You don't dare to do more.
Your partnership is of greater importance than sex and in-the-moment confessions. You don't want to regret it comes morning.
"Why would I mind?" Jungkook finally answers, feigning happiness. "I'll personally thank your soulmate for taking you out, honestly. I'm tired of you forcing me to take you out on dates. It's about time I meet new people, too."
"Right." You swallow your disappointment and the faint ache in your chest. "Who wants to go out with a shitty bastard like you, anyway? Go meet others! It's not like I care!"
Another fake smile blooms on Jungkook's face.
"Whatever you say."
*****
Kim Taehyung is the name of your soulmate, and the man Jungwon has been investigating for the past three days.
"Jungkook sunbaenim, here's all the information I can find about Kim Taehyung." Jungwon stifles a yawn as he approaches his mentor's table. He almost winces upon seeing Jungkook's monitor.
The older detective has many tabs on his computer, all related to Kim Taehyung.
"You're still investigating him?" Jungwon can't mask his surprise. "Jungkook sunbaenim, just what did Kim Taehyung do!?"
"He's a thief, Jungwon-ah." Jungkook accepts the files from his mentee without sparing him a glance
Jungwon dramatically gasps, his sleepiness fading away because of the scandalous information.
"Really? What did he steal?"
"A precious little thing." Jungkook is viewing Kim Taehyung's baby photos. No one knows how he found them. "Look, he's not that cute, right?"
Jungwon doesn't answer, lost in thought. What could Kim Taehyung have stolen? His Jungkook sunbaenim said a precious little thing. Could it be a diamond ring? Or...
"Tanzanite?" Jungwon shrieks. "Did he steal tanzanite, Jungkook sunbaenim!?"
"Huh?" Jungkook turns to his mentee with a furrowed brow. He suddenly remembers what he said to Jungwon, and being a good actor whose words consist of 10% truth and 90% lies, Jungkook can save himself by saying, "Yeah. He stole tanzanite —authorities said it was very expensive. Come, Jungwon-ah. Let's catch this thief."
****
You aren't lying when you say you won't divorce Jungkook because you 'met' your soulmate. No, your partnership is beyond colors. However, it also doesn't mean you’ll relinquish your connection with your soulmate.
The deal is this: You and Jungkook will stay together until you know your soulmates better. After that, you two can decide what to do next. In short, a simple meeting doesn't guarantee you would want to spend your entire life with your soulmates. You both have heard many stories before that not even real soulmates find romantic love with each other—some remain platonic soulmates, while others go as far as killing each other.
You and Taehyung's case seems to fall to the normal expectation of society: meet as strangers, get to know each other until you become friends, then fall in love and get married.
Unlike Jungkook pulling you in a reverse direction, Taehyung intends to drive you on the right path.
"Jungkook sunbaenim, aren't we breaking the protocol?" Jungwon covers his face with a newspaper, whispering softly in case the suspect hears him. They are currently inside a small coffee shop near Aurora Fashion Lane. Based on Jungwon's investigation, Kim Taehyung works as a designer for the company in the same building as this coffee shop. In fact, Taehyung is slowly becoming a regular customer here.
"Shouldn't we call for backup?" 
Jungkook ignores the younger detective. He squints his eyes hard, focusing on the table near the counter. Jungwon discreetly looks in the direction Jungkook has his eyes on. A woman with a similar haircut as yours is sitting there.
"Jungkook sunbaenim, isn't that your wife—"
"Ssshh, Jungwon-ah. Shut up for a moment. I can't hear them." Jungkook regrets not choosing a table near you and your date. Damn it. You probably won't realize he's here—not when your attention is focused on stupid Technology!
"Stay here. I'll be back." The older detective stands up abruptly. Right. If he pretends to look at the menu before ordering something, he can hear whatever you and Taehyung are talking about:
"Exactly. They should've added another layer of lace. It pairs well with jacquard." Jungkook hears you say.
What the heck are they talking about? The detective muses.
"Ah, unfortunately, the customer hates laces. Apparently, her father made her wear laces that itch." Taehyung responds.
"Poor Elise. I understand why she prefers satin dresses."
Are they talking about work? Jungkook thinks to himself again. He only snaps back to reality when the cashier smiles, asking if he's ready to order.
Jungkook orders drinks for him and Jungwon before moving closer to the soulmates' table. You and Taehyung have stopped talking, though. Confused, Jungkook tilts his head to check what's happening, but someone seizes his wrist.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jungkook hears a classic greeting, yet he still freezes. Only one person gets angry seeing him.
"Oh, hi, you~. I didn't see you there." The detective beams while prying his hand away from your iron-like grip. "What a coincidence!"
"Coincidence, my ass!" You grit your teeth, "Tell me the truth. Why are you here?"
Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek, thinking of a way to translate, 'You were smiling through your phone yesterday while texting your stupid soulmate. I didn't want to invade your privacy, so I hacked his messages instead,' into something that won't ignite your anger.
In the end, Jungkook manages to simply say, "Why? Can't a detective have his coffee?"
"Jungkook." you utter sternly, "This coffee shop is an hour and a half from your workplace. You also don't drink coffee."
As if on cue, the barista says Jungkook's drinks are ready. The detective picks up his drink and sips it. "What was that? I can't hear you over my delicious caramel macchiato with whipped cream and seven pumps of caramel sauce, topped with small marshmallows, chocolate chips, and sprinkles!"
"For fuck's sake!" You let out a torrent of abuse, your face morphing into disgust. Seeing color intensifies your emotions. The colorful toppings in Jungkook's drink make you want to vomit. "Get your ass out of here, you tasteless bastard!"
Jungkook doesn't budge. He shoots you an innocent look, "Why are you shooing me away? Am I disturbing you and your date? Where is he, by the way?"
Taehyung went to the comfort room, but this was not the point. You hiss, "I'm not on a date. Taehyung and I are discussing work over coffee. How the heck did you even know we're here?"
Another question Jungkook doesn't have a ready answer. Fortunately for him, Taehyung is back. Your furious expression melts at once. Your fake personality makes Jungkook gag.
"Hey, should we head back?" Taehyung's voice is deep. This is the first thing Jungkook notices.
"Yeah, let's go." You smile at your soulmate.
Another thing Jungkook notices is how handsy Taehyung is. He touches the small of your back, leading you to the exit. Jungkook's expression darkens, and Jungwon, watching the whole exchange like a hawk, suddenly decides to act.
"Stop, you thief! Leave my mentor's wife alone!" Jungwon has the handcuffs ready. He's rushing in Taehyung's direction. Jungkook's eyes widen, only relying on his fast reflexes to stop his mentee.
He trips Jungwon, causing the younger detective to fall to the ground.
"Jungkook, you bastard--!!"
All hell breaks loose after that scream coming out of you.
****
'Disaster' is the only word to describe Jungkook's attempt to stalk his wife. He didn't plan for things to escalate to the level where he had to trip Jungwon to stop him from arresting an innocent citizen like Taehyung. You got so mad that the older detective had to apologize, making an excuse that they were detectives on a mission gone wrong. Jungkook remembers smiling apologetically at Taehyung, telling him to cut Jungwon some slack because he is a newbie detective.
You knew everything leaving Jungkook's mouth was bullshit, yet you played along with Jungkook's excuse. You clearly don’t want the issue to escalate further. Thankfully, Taehyung is an understanding man, telling Jungwon to be careful next time. You aren't as forgiving as your soulmate, though. You called Jungkook over the phone, yelling you'd kill him if he went home tonight.
Jungkook has no choice but to seek shelter at Namjoon’s house.
"Let me guess," Namjoon sighs upon seeing Jungkook at his doorstep. "You've angered your wife again, didn't you?"
"Namjoon-hyung! That's a mean guess. Can't I visit my friend?"
Namjoon remains expressionless. "You only go here whenever you and your wife fight. Your wife will think I betrayed her if I let you in."
Jungkook hmphed. "My wife already has beef with your soulmate and, by extension, with you too. So just let me in, will you?"
Namjoon releases a breath when Jungkook pushes the door open and rushes in. He is right, anyway. You have beef with his soulmate. Namjoon always receives texts from you complaining about Hoseok and how ruthless he is as a government employee.
"Would you like something to drink—" Namjoon cuts himself off upon seeing Jungkook helping himself with a bottle of soju.
The detective takes large gulps. He finishes half of the bottle in less than two minutes. Jungkook hiccups and clumsily wipes his mouth, "My wife found her soulmate. She can see colors now."
Namjoon stops in his tracks.
Jungkook laughs, mocking himself. "His eyes are purple, hyung."
"Jungkook..." Namjoon sounds apologetic.
"What's with your expression?" Jungkook’s lips twist. "You look sorry. Don't be. I'm—"
Happy for her? Jungkook shakes his head. It seems like that's not the case. Namjoon thinks so, too. He sits in front of the detective.
"You're what, Jungkook-ah?" The older man opens a beer bottle for himself, "What do you feel for your wife? What does she make you feel?"
Silence creeps into the room.
Jungkook's shoulders drop. Memories from the past play in his head as he closes his eyes.
Twenty-one years ago, 2002:
11-year-old Jungkook is freezing cold.
He is out in the snow, trying to take a sneak peek at children his age playing on the school grounds. Unlike him, the students are covered with expensive coats, mittens, and a hat. Jungkook's mother is a janitress at a private elementary school in Busan. Sadly, she can't afford to send her son to this school, so Jungkook can only watch the other kids in envy.
The children here have winter camps and activities to support their growth. Today, Jungkook watches as the students make mittens. Some children give the handmade gloves to their family, friends, or teachers.
Only one girl saves her mittens for a lone stranger.
"Here," Jungkook is taken aback when a girl his age suddenly approaches him. She’s shorter than Jungkook, but her determined eyes make people think she has much to offer. 
"I said here!" Jungkook remains unmoving, so the girl pushes the mittens to his chest. "I can't see it yet, but my mum said the gloves are gray like my eyes! I made them myself."
The little girl looks proud; a huge grin is on her lips.
Jungkook blinks dumbly at her, "Why...." He takes in a deep breath, clutching the warm gloves to his chest. "Why are you giving me these gloves?"
The little girl looks confused; she even lets out a small huh. Jungkook thinks the girl didn't hear him, so he repeats his words.
You are that little girl. You shrug your shoulders. "Because I want to. You look cold. I don't want to see you cold."
"But," Jungkook's lips tremble. He is having a hard time accepting the gift. "I have nothing to trade you with."
"Who cares?" You sit beside him. "I don't want anything. I just want to be friends."
Present; 2023:
Until now, Jungkook has no idea why you wish to be friends with someone like him. Clearly, you were a world apart. It was winter then. Maybe it was a Winter miracle—if this is even a thing.
But Jungkook is sure of one thing:
"She makes me feel warm, Namjoon-hyung." The detective finally answers his friend's question earlier. "My wife makes me warm, loved, and hopeful."
****
You receive a text message from Namjoon asking you to pick up a hammered Jungkook.
"Hey, you're leaving already?" Taehyung sees you leaving the office.
You rub the back of your neck and smile softly at Taehyung, "Yes. I have to pick up my husband."
"Ah." Taehyung nods, "Jungkook, isn't it? The detective from earlier?"
"Mn. I'm really sorry about what happened."
"It's nothing," Taehyung assures. It will probably take him a long time to forget his encounter with those two strange detectives, but it's not so bad. They apologized and said it was an honest mistake. He motions toward the door, "You brought your car, right? Let’s go down together.”
“You’re going home too?”
“Not yet.” Taehyung opens the office door for his soulmate. “Just gonna get coffee.”
Taehyung’s obsession with caffeine doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Taehyung joined your team only this week but has probably gone to the coffee shop downstairs more than your team did.
You brush it off. It’s none of your business. What matters to you is what Jungkook drinks. After bidding Taehyung goodbye, you immediately rush to Namjoon’s house. He is absolutely right. Jungkook is wasted.
"Why did you let this asshole drink so much!?" You bare your teeth at Namjoon. "You know how he is, Namjoon! Did he even eat before chugging down soju? Soju! You made him drink soju!? Namjoon, you golden-eyed clumsy bastard! Your eye color looks like horse piss!"
You are getting creative with your insults now that you can see colors. Namjoon shakes his head. He likes you better when you still see in black and white; at least then, you don’t go around terrorizing people and their eye color.
"I'm sorry. He forced himself into my home." Namjoon throws Jungkook under the bus. He'd rather get a playfully upset Jungkook than a screaming girl like you.
You know better than to put all the blame on Namjoon, though. You know Jungkook drank himself stupid because he can't handle it when you are genuinely mad at him.
You swallow your fury, "You know what? Just…have a good night, Namjoon-oppa. I'm sorry for shouting and the trouble. I'll make it up to you some other time."
You drag Jungkook to your car.
The detective is no fun when drunk. He just passes out. You can't even get blackmail material out of this hell.
"Fucking finally." You cover your husband with a blanket after cleaning him up and changing his clothes into new ones.
"Bastard." You sneer but still end up softly kissing Jungkook's forehead.
Ah. The things you do for love.
****
Jungkook wakes up with a stomachache and a sweaty forehead. He dramatically whines, cradling his stomach like he has been shot there.
Thankfully, you show up at once. You are carrying a tray with a full meal.
"My stomach hurts." He complains, earning an eye roll from you.
"Of course it does. You fucking drank alcohol on an empty stomach. You also had that stupid drink at the coffee shop. Just what the hell are you thinking?"
You sit on the bed. You first brush your husband's fringe with your fingers, then cup his cheeks and casually wipe the side of his mouth.
"Here, eat something."
Jungkook doesn't need to tell you to feed him. You bring a spoonful of food to his mouth, gently urging him to eat.
The detective moans. Your food tastes like heaven, even better than those Michelin restaurants. "My wife is such a great cook. Thank you~~"
"Whatever. Just don't moan, bastard." You can feel your cheeks turning hot. You easily get flustered with compliments.
Jungkook suddenly wonders if Taehyung has said something to make you blush, too.
"Oi, Jungkook. Don't tell me you don't have an appetite anymore. You barely ate!"
It's not like the detective doesn't want to eat anymore. His mood only plummets when he thinks about your soulmate.
Jungkook utters your name softly and asks, "Are you happy?"
"What kind of question is that?" You scrunch your nose, but you still answer. "Of course I'm happy." I have you in my life.
"No. I mean, are you happy you can see colors now?"
"I'm happier." You are surprised at how quickly you answered. Maybe because it's never hard for you to tell the truth. But still...you don't want to sound insensitive. You know your husband has yet to see colors.
You try again, "I mean...seeing colors makes my job easier, and I’m not just saying this because I'm getting promoted soon." People in their world have a greater chance of success once they see colors. 
"I guess I appreciate my job even more. It makes me feel alive, if you will. Things seem "livelier..."
You look into Jungkook's brown eyes. You can see them sparkling. For the first time in twenty-plus years you have known Jungkook, this is the only time you have seen how pink his lips are.
You can feel your heart thumping.
Looking at Jungkook with colors makes you feel "More." You whisper, "I feel things more with colors, Jungkook."
More love.
More joy.
And more clarity about what you really feel about your best friend.
"That's good, then." Jungkook rests his head on your shoulders. "I'm glad you're happy."
He really is. If he can go back to last night, Jungkook won't hesitate to tell Namjoon that, even though it hurts him, he's glad you met the one fated to you.
*****
Months pass, and things get even better for you. You got promoted twice and now handle one of your company's major customers. Your wallet gets fatter—so shouting at Namjoon to tell Hoseok to calm down doesn’t work anymore. Your free time is almost non-existent, though. It makes Jungkook sigh.
“Hey, Jungkook. You’re free to go.” Jungkook’s mood soars when his partner at work approaches him.
“Seokjin-hyung!” Jungkook’s jaw drops to the floor. “Did I hear you right? Are you seriously allowing me to get off work an hour earlier!?”
Seokjin is a hardworking detective who does not joke around since he knows his job affects the public's general welfare. Still, he also knows that you and Jungkook are celebrating your anniversary as a married couple for ten years.
“Just go, Jungkook-ah.” Seokjin pushes him. “Just leave before I change my mind. And for heaven’s sake, get your wife anything but flowers. No one wants to see you sneezing all day. Keep your snots away--!!”
Jungkook walks faster, not wanting to hear his work partner complain. So what if he sneezes all day? So what if he’s allergic to flowers? You love flowers, so he’ll get you bouquets.
Humming, Jungkook makes his way to the flower shop. The snowflakes fall lightly. It’s winter. Jungkook met you in the winter of 2002. You also got married in winter, the year 2013. Other people don’t like this season, especially Hoseok, who watched Namjoon suffer a fall accident because of slippery ground three years ago. Thank goodness Namjoon is okay now.
Jungkook buys flowers and your favorite wine. He’s almost home when a ghost from the past blocks his way.
“Oh, if it isn’t the beloved scoundrel of my bitch of a soulmate.”
Jungkook stiffens, eyes turning dark as he takes in the lone figure of his father.
“Jeon Sungmin.” Jungkook’s tone is scathing.
“The one and only.” Sungmin juts his chin. “Did you miss me, son?”
“Don’t call me that.” Jungkook clenches his fist. Unadulterated anger fills his heart. He’s trying hard not to punch this pathetic man. “In case you forgot, I still have a restraining order against you. I can even arrest you myself.”
Sungmin lets out a sardonic laugh. It’s loud—the kind of laughter that makes Jungkook’s skin itch. He can’t see colors but could’ve sworn he sees blood. Maybe he just wants to claim blood.
“Don’t act so tough on me, boy. In case you forgot, you just stood like a dumb bastard when I killed your bitch of a mom.”
“Stop.” Jungkook chokes, feeling a lump forming in his throat. He can’t breathe. Memories have come to haunt him.
“Scared, aren’t we?” Sungmin drags his limping feet to Jungkook. Twenty years in prison broke his body but not his soul. Even with only his tattered clothes and one functioning eye, Sungmin can still bring terror to his son.
“You should be. You’re nothing but a pathetic scourge.” Sungmin pulls Jungkook’s collar, slamming him into a cold wall. “Now be of use and give me money.”
Jungkook doesn’t move. His eyes droop, wanting to puke as he feels his father stealing his wallet. He hears screams inside his head, the pleas of his mother. Jungkook-ah, run. Please. You have to save yourself. 
Jungkook remains rooted in his spot back then, just hollowly looking at the blood on the floor. He watched as Sungmin smashed the baseball bat into his mother’s head.
More screams. Sungmin didn’t stop the beating until the police officers came.
Twenty years later, Jungkook is still the same. He still can’t stand up for himself. He watches his father take his wine and wallet, leaving like nothing happened.
Jungkook doesn’t know how he manages to walk back home. He stays outside, ruined flowers in his lap. He cannot get in as his keys are inside his stolen wallet.
Jungkook could only wait for a purple-eyed girl whose eyes he thought were gray.
****
Like Jungkook, you get off work early as well. Your secretary runs after you, saying that you can’t leave yet. However, you dismissed the secretary and passed the work on to Yeonjun instead. You hate that you are not home yet. You are actually supposed to take the day off to plan your anniversary date with your husband better.
It’s your 10th anniversary, after all. You are thinking of cooking Jungkook’s favorite food and giving him a…body massage. Many things are running into your mind—you can’t wait to try them all with your husband. Too bad work is holding you back.
“Sunbaenim, what do you think about this color combination? Is the shade of blue too dark for this winter’s theme?” Yeji excitedly shows off her design.
You rub your neck roughly, stopping yourself from throwing profanities. Calm down. Yeji is a hardworking designer who only wants the best for the team.
“I’m thinking of using an aqua frost instead. One shoulder sleeve should do the trick if—”
Oh my God. ‘Someone, please kill me now.’ You scream internally.
“Yeji,” you press your lips into a thin line. “I actually can’t entertain you right now. Would you mind checking in with Taehyung instead?”
Yeji’s shoulders drop. “Ah, Taehyung-sunbaenim isn’t here at the moment.”
“What do you mean he’s not here?” You feel your head pulsating. “Where is he?”
Everyone is so busy. Taehyung can’t possibly skip work, right?
“He’s at the coffee shop downstairs.”
That son of a--!!
You stand up abruptly. Taehyung’s coffee break ended an hour ago! How can he still be at the coffee shop!? You are seething in anger. You know Taehyung is your soulmate, but you can’t just connect to him. The first few months are okay. However, you soon realize how incompatible you and Taehyung are. Your connection starts with colors, and it also ends there. Nothing more, nothing less.
“I’m going to call him.” You exit, ignoring Yeji’s call. Honestly, what you said is half lie and half-truth. You just really, really want to leave the office. It’s a pure happenstance to bump into Taehyung in the elevator.
“Hey.” He calls your name. Remnants of joy are still visible on Taehyung’s face. Two coffee holders are in his hands—he got the whole team some drinks. “I got coffee. Where’re you going?”
“Home.” You press the elevator button. “It’s my husband and I’s anniversary.”
“Ah.” Taehyung nods in understanding. He never once shows any sign of disappointment over his soulmate spending time with another person. “Didn’t you say Detective Jeon likes eating sweets? Jimin-hyung baked a chocolate cake today. Will you accept it as my anniversary gift for you two?”
You pause. It’s like your brain short-circuits upon noticing Taehyung’s expression when he utters Jimin’s name.
Jimin—the barista and baker at the coffee shop where Taehyung frequents.
“Taehyung,” your heart stutters. “D-Do you remember your first day in the office?”
“Of course.” Taehyung offers a small smile. “It’s hard to forget that day, don’t you think? We both saw colors for the first time.”
You blink at him, not saying anything.
Taehyung avoids eye contact, thinking he’s not smart enough to understand what you implied. He tries to remember every detail of that day.
“I think I came to the office ten minutes earlier. I got everyone coffee. Come to think of it, Jimin-hyung actually saved me that day. He knows everyone’s order—Hey, are you alright?”
“You…” You gasp. “You met with Jimin before seeing me at the office, right?”
“Yes?” Taehyung’s hands are getting clammy for grasping the coffee holders. It doesn’t help that you are acting weird, making him more anxious.
“Taehyung, I think there’s been a glitch.”
Yeji goes after you a few minutes later. Both of you and Jimin are taking too long. Luckily, she instantly spots you at the elevator door. You look agitated, while Taehyung seems dumbfounded.
“Sunbaenim!” Yeji tries to stop you two, but you and Taehyung have already gotten inside the lift.
“Yeji, there you are.” Taehyung passes the coffee holders to Yeji. “Drink this with the others. We’ll be taking another break. See you later.”
“Wait—!!”
The elevator door closes.
Yeji whines, “I still have to show you my designs….”
****
You rush home, excited to see your husband. However, your excitement quickly turns into horror when you spot Jungkook sitting on your porch.
“Jungkook!?” Your eyes dilate. Jungkook is staring into nothingness. You are familiar with this kind of expression, the kind where you are forced to swallow your insults because you know. 
You know something terrible happened to your husband.
You quickly open the door and pull Jungkook to his feet. The detective is still unresponsive, letting you drag him into the bathroom. You did all the work; you immediately opened the heater and got warm clothes.
“Kook,” you call softly, cradling Jungkook’s hands to blow on them. “ Can you lift your arms for me? Let’s get you changed, alright?”
Jungkook doesn’t answer but does what he’s told. You are shaking as you help your husband change. You want to give the detective warm water and candies, but Jungkook still looks shaken. You can only gently drag him to bed. You lay down beside Jungkook, hugging him close to your chest.
You didn’t ask any questions, allowing Jungkook to breathe first.
“I--” Jungkook hiccups, sounding broken. He weakly grips the hem of your shirt.
“I’m here, Darling.” You kiss your husband’s forehead. You hug him even tighter, wishing to melt your body and bones and offer all your warmth and love to Jungkook.
Jungkook calls your name, his voice almost sounding like a wounded animal.
You caress your partner’s cheeks. They’re wet. It takes everything in you to pick up the pieces of your broken heart. No. You can’t fall apart now. Jungkook needs you.
“Mn. I’m here. You can tell me what you want.”
“N-No.” Jungkook whimpers, “I don’t want anything. I—I don’t deserve anything.”
“Jungkook.” You break the hug and force Jungkook to sit up on the bed. He’s warm enough. He’ll live.
The detective cast his gaze down, though—an indication he doesn’t want to hear whatever you have to say.
It pisses you off.
“Jungkook. Look at me.” You demand sternly. But Jungkook shakes his head.
“No, you’re mad at me.”
“Heck yeah, I’m mad. I’m so mad I can punch your face right now.” You have been patient with him, believing he’s vulnerable and in need of space. But your heart is only soft for a sad Jungkook, not for a Jungkook who blabs stupid things.
Jungkook balls his hands into fists, “You don’t understand. It’s so noisy in here.” He points at his head, “They won’t shut up. I’m—he….”
Jungkook gasps for air. You panic. You rub Jungkook’s back.
“Jungkook,” the saddest thing in this world is not seeing colors; it’s watching your beloved deal with the pain while you sit there pathetically, unable to take even a fraction of his hurt.
What good is a soulmate when all it can bring is color? Why can’t you take away Jungkook’s pain?
“He’s back, my father is out of jail.” Jungkook grips the bedsheet, “He’s come back for me. He hurt her before. He always takes away the people I love.”
Trauma is a part of Jungkook; napping silently and with one wrong shake, it’ll wake up and wreak havoc.
“You should run. Leave me. I don’t have a use to you, anyway—”
“Hush,” you can’t bear to listen anymore. You pull Jungkook to your chest, but the detective struggles.
“Please. You have to listen to me! Just leave! We’re not soulmates. I don’t understand why you’re still here!" Jungkook pushes your chest, but you catch his hands, burying Jungkook’s face into your neck.
“Oh, ma moitié.” The French endearment sounds easy coming out of your mouth. Jungkook melts at once. He sobs against your skin.
Ma moitié translates to my other half.
Jungkook wants to curse this unfair world. That’s right. How can you and him not be each other’s other half? It’s difficult to fight for you when fate is against you two. Sometimes Jungkook feels like no one has the right to tear you apart, mainly because you two paint each other's life—not with colors but with love. You and Jungkook are soulmates by heart. Many people call you twin black. The monochromatic world doesn't rob the two of you of happiness, love, and care. It takes one Jeon Jungkook to know that you like drinking cold water, not just 'cold water.' It has to be a certain degree of coldness:
If the water sits in the refrigerator for two hours, that's not cold enough. If it's water coming from a semi-solid ice cube, then that's too cold. 
You are fussy, but you give your effort to Jungkook similarly. Whenever you pick Jungkook up from work, you never fail to put your expensive leather jacket on the passenger seat, so Jungkook wouldn't have to deal with a burning hot seat. You don’t mind being stuck in the traffic and driving for hours to pick him up at work every day.
“Why can’t you be mine?” Jungkook doesn’t have the energy to push you away. His hatred is directed toward fate, himself, and his deranged father. Why are they against you and him being together?
“But I’m already yours, Kook.” You lick Jungkook’s tears and kiss his eyes. “Everything about me belongs to you. This,”
You guide Jungkook’s hands to your eyes, lips, and neck, then lower Jungkook’s hands to your heart. You let the detective feel your beating heart.
“You hear that, Kook?” Your eyes well up with tears. “That’s my heart telling you something.”
Goosebumps prick at Jungkook’s skin.
You do not break eye contact. “I love you, Jungkook.”
You have said those words countless times before, but it doesn’t fail to take Jungkook’s breath away—especially now that the I love you is said so softly…so romantically.
“You’re my soulmate, Jungkook.”
Jungkook flinches, shaking his head rapidly.
“T-That can’t be. You…you see colors. I don’t. We’re—we’re….”
Why are you lying? Why are you giving Jungkook false hope? It’s cruel.
But you are insistent.
“Jungkook,” you kiss him. “Stop thinking for a while, yeah? Focus on me. Focus on my heart. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Jungkook answers against your lips. He never responded before, simply allowing and relishing the taste of your sweet lips.
“I love you so much,” Jungkook repeats, groaning and biting your lips until it draws blood. Jungkook had never allowed himself to possess before, scared that he would end up ruining what he loved. But today is different. You are addicting. Claiming he loves you gives him so much power--
He pushes you to bed, pressing himself on top of you.
Jungkook kisses you. “I love you. I love you. I really, really love you.”
 --so much happiness.
“I love you.”
--so much color.
Jungkook stops kissing you; his head spins.
--so much color.
Color.
The monochromatic world is slowly changing.
Color.
More colors.
Jungkook’s eyes grow wide.
He looks at you under him.
He gasps and calls your name. Your name sounds like a prayer coming out of Jungkook’s mouth.
“Your eyes…they’re purple.”
You chuckle under him. You wipe Jungkook’s tears.
“Took you long enough to realize, Kook.”
Jungkook laughs hysterically. He stares into your eyes again, ensuring he’s not dreaming or going crazing.
Your eyes are really purple—not gray.
At this very moment, Jungkook realizes something: out of all the suicide methods in history, Jungkook thinks that if he were to try one, it still wouldn’t work because seeing the purple in your eyes will bring him back to life.
Really. No amount of oxygen can compare to the image of you lying on your bed, purple eyes glistening as you whisper sweet nothings to your soulmate. With that, Jungkook feels he can finally breathe.
****
Meanwhile, on Aurora Fashion Lane, Taehyung runs toward the coffee shop. The conversation he had with you at the elevator rings inside his mind.
There has been a glitch.
That’s right. Taehyung remembers that day like the back of his hand.
It’s 6:23am. He went to a coffee shop looking so composed, but he’s actually very nervous. However, the presence of the barista calms him down.
“You’re new here, aren’t you?” Jimin, the barista, asks. A soft smile adores his pretty face.
Taehyung feels his heart skipping a beat. He licks his lips, “You can tell?”
“You smell different.”
“Really.” Taehyung feels blood rushing to his face.
Jimin laughs. “Don’t be conscious. I said you smell different, not bad. I can tell because I’m blind. My other senses are heightened because of it.”
“Ah.” Taehyung is fascinated. Jimin prepares coffee like a pro. He won’t know Jimin can’t see if he didn’t say it.
“This one is for your head designer; she likes her coffee with some liquor. I sneak some little candies onto her tray so she can bring them home to Detective Jeon, her husband.” Jimin pushes a coffee cup to Taehyung.
“This one is for Yeji. She prefers iced coffee even when it’s freezing cold. This one is for Ji-Eun. She likes tea and not coffee. Yeonjun never changes his order. It’s always two shots of espresso. Jake drinks anything, as long as it’s not too bitter. And this,”
Jimin smiles, “Is for you. A bulgogi sandwich and iced latte. The sandwich is not spicy, so you don’t need to worry. Have a good day.”
Taehyung feels like floating in the air when he goes to work. He first sees you at the door, looking so pensive early in the morning.
You are thinking about your husband. His birthday is coming soon. You want to give him something precious.
A wristwatch? Nah. That’s too simple.
A perfume? Nope. You prefer it when he smells like you.
What about a picnic date near the sea? You can arrange for a firework display and…
Confess.
You flinch at your own thought.
Confess.
You want to confess to Jungkook because---
--you love him.
“Good morning.” Taehyung greets.
You are startled. You snap your head up to meet Taehyung’s face.
All of a sudden, a splash of colors welcomes you.
You see colors, and so does Taehyung.
“So yeah, I think there’s been a glitch.” Taehyung tries to explain to an expressionless Jimin. He swallows when the barista doesn’t answer.
Taehyung releases a deep sigh. Right. He probably sounds crazy right now. It’s not cool to suddenly barge at someone’s work and announce that you think the barista is your soulmate.
Taehyung scolds himself. He’s about to apologize and tell Jimin to ignore what he said when—
“I know,” Jimin responds.
Taehyung blinks up at him dumbly.
Jimin’s lips twist, “Didn’t I tell you I’m blind?”
What’s his blindness got to do with anything? Taehyung still likes him.
“Taehyung, I’m blind.” He repeats. “I’ve been blind since I was born. When I dream, I don’t dream visually, but.”
There’s a sudden pause. Jimin looks lost in thought.
He continues after a while, “The night before I met you, I dreamt of you. I saw a man who told me I was his soulmate. You two have the same voice, and here…” Jimin brings out his sketch pad and finally shows it to Taehyung.
“I draw the face of the man in my dream. Does it look like you?”
Taehyung gasps dramatically because, my gosh. Jimin has perfectly drawn his face!
“This is really me…I’m your soulmate, Jimin.” Taehyung stutters a breath. His heart beats fast.
Jimin chuckles softly, and then he touches Taehyung’s eyes. “Yes, you told me in my dream, too. I’m just waiting for you to realize it in real life.”
The thing about soulmates is it’s complex. Researchers even claim there are different universes, all of which have the concept of soulmates. Some hear the thoughts of their soulmates in their heads. Some are immortals and will only die if they do the act with their soulmates. And then comes their world, a monochromatic place where you’ll see colors once you look at your soulmate’s eyes.
But it’s not that simple. Sometimes, you have to free yourself from your own judgment first. Sometimes, you must be honest first; sometimes, you just have to wait.
****
Accept this fic while I take my time writing my ongoing JJK series here.
This is originally a soukoku fic I've written before. If you prefer that version, click here. I've converted it into a JJK x reader because it was requested by an anon here. If there are obvious mistakes in pronouns and such, please tell me because as said, this is originally a fic for a different fandom and it used to be a mxm pairing. I may have missed some thing while editing it.
I've written the same concept of soulmate ft. JJK years ago. It's a series which you can read here.
I appreciate comments the most! If you have suggestions about addtional tw, please don't hesitate to message me. Thank you ~~
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shiraishi--kanade · 1 month
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"It's so embarrassing to admit I only create art for validation" did paleolithic humans not paint for other humans to see. Does a child making their first drawing to show their parents makes it any less valuable. Do gardens arranged for the visitors' eyes make the roses any less beautiful. Do love poems written for one person alone to hear make your heart ache less. You're fine
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themotherofhorses · 1 month
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simon riley x fem!reader
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Imagine holding Simon when he cries. 
Simon Riley is an incredibly strong man, an absolute force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Since joining the SAS in 2001, he has created a name for himself. A military legend—seemingly more ghost-like than flesh and blood. But that is the farthest from the truth, isn’t it? Cause, at the end of the day, he is still human. You’re his girl, the love of his life. His true love—his only love.
You are a source of comfort he somehow found in this shitty, cold world. The home he never had the privilege of experiencing; your arms have provided him with everything he was denied during boyhood.  
So imagine your Simon arriving home one evening—dead silent—merely shuffling his way to where you’re seated comfortably on the living room couch. His duffle bag drops near his leather recliner before the balaclava is tossed to the side. On his face is a certain heaviness, a sadness twisted in his handsome features; his blue eyes are not as bright as they usually are.
You swallow. Did something happen during the mission? 
“What is wrong, baby?” You coo, stretching your arms out wide to welcome him in. 
Without another thought, Simon tucks himself into your embrace, with his head resting gently on your chest. Against your breast, he can hear your heartbeat thundering away in your chest, moving in a rhythm that matches his. He reckons he is the luckiest bastard in the world, to find a soulmate who compliments him in every aspect of life. 
He lets out a small sigh, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling his throat closing up as tears begin to well up. His bottom lip trembles before he bites down on it. 
“Simon,” you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “What happened, my love?” 
Another tear, followed by three more. A tiny, shaky exhale. Simon remains utterly still for a moment, not saying anything, until…“It’s my father’s birthday today.” His voice is quiet, breathless, unbelievably thick with sheer sadness. 
Your face falls at that. “Oh, Simon.” A sad smile pulls at your lips while you hug him closer, peppering more kisses up and down his hairline, pausing to brush back soft, blonde strands. You say nothing more as he continues to weep in your arms, entire body racking with choked-up sobs and uneven breathing. 
“I loved him,” Simon rasps out, pulling his face up from your neck. Both his cheeks and nose are a cherry-red, with baby-blue eyes bloodshot and puffy, lined with fresh tears. For a moment, he wasn’t the Simon Riley you fell in love with, but the Simon Riley who was five-years-old—all scrawny, little legged and freshly bruised, hiding behind the bookcase in his parents’ bedroom. 
“Loved him so bloody much.” 
You don’t know what to say. What can you even say? Nothing can heal those wounds, cut so deep in his heart and soul that any slight movement reopens them. “I know you did.” You kiss his nose, minding the mess of tears and snot. 
His fists slowly tighten, knuckles whitening as all the memories of his father begin to flood through him; they all carry an agonizing sensation, the kind that is too fuckin' painful to discuss aloud, yet too damn gut-wrenching to keep bottled up inside.
“Do ya…” he hiccups, clearing his throat. “Do ya think…in another life…?” 
In another life. You think for a moment, carding your fingers softly through his hair. “Maybe, my love…” 
Simon nods. “Maybe,” he croaks out, keeping his arms tight around you. There, on the couch, you continue to hold him, letting his torrent of tears soak your shirt; time and time again, your fingers run through his hair in some silent attempt to ease the little boy wailing inside. 
“It’s okay, baby.”
You kiss his temple.
“You’re alright. Let it out, baby.” 
He’ll be alright tomorrow. You know it. In the morning, he’ll be barefoot and content in the kitchen, baking his mother’s special recipe of blueberry and pineapple pancakes—a cup of milk, one egg, blueberries, pineapple, and, of course, the batter—all while waiting for your arms to circle around his chest. 
But for right now, he is five years old, finally being embraced in arms so warm and loving and protective—so unbelievably perfect. The feeling incites more tears.
"Thank you, baby," he mumbles, gently kissing your collarbone; it's a kiss so rich with love, appreciation, and adoration that it stirs up butterflies in your tummy. "For everything."
For everything. Oh, you silly boy. "Simon." You smile down at him, gently caressing his cheek. "For you, my love? I'd do anything."
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note: a little drabble for my "let simon riley cry 2024" campaign. thanks!
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comicaurora · 4 months
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I'm sorry that the terfs made their way onto your blog but it does feel good to see you support trans people. Thank you for that
Always.
I think, charitably, that the discourse going down on that post is an extrapolation and over-focus on one element of the point I was making: that for me, determining with certainty that I was cis was a rather fraught process. I was presented with many alternatives, but underlying their imposition on me was the oddly regressive idea that the things I liked, the principles I valued, the parts of myself I was proud of were not permitted of women. My whole life I got smacked with the background radiation that I couldn't like being strong because women aren't allowed to be stronger than men. I couldn't like being loud and boistrous because women aren't allowed to take up space. I couldn't be a math geek because women aren't smart. It was all deeply regressive misogyny from day one, but I started getting hit with it slathered in a fresh coat of paint - all those assumptions still held to be true, but now there was the out that I could do all those things if I just wasn't a woman.
Concluding that the underlying bioessentialist premise was wrong was very important. Absolutely none of those statements were true, and were only ever maintained by cultural saturation, goalpost-readjustment when they were actively disproven, and the occasional bout of lying with statistics to pretend they weren't just Shit All The Way Down. The core premise that certain things were only permitted of or possible for men was bullshit, and I didn't need to surrender the gender I liked best in order to play in the spaces I wanted to. I could simply exist the way I was already existing. I didn't need anything else.
The misinterpretation is the assumption that this being true of me means this is everybody's relationship with gender. I turned out to be cis, so for me, feeling that holding onto my assigned gender wasn't allowed was distressing - just another invocation of the same bioessentialist bullshit I'd been dealing with since the preschool playground. This is because misgendering is fundamentally denying that a person has the right to express themself the way they want. When aimed at me, it says I'm not performing traditional femininity well enough to deserve my pronouns. The same disrespect is the root of misgendering when aimed at trans people. "Perform your gender to my satisfaction or I will confiscate it."
The problem is, bioessentialism is 100% ingrained into the terf playbook, which is why, for instance, all their shitty talking points about trans athletes eventually boil down to "no woman can ever defeat a man in any contest because we are simply naturally weak and stupid and there is nothing we can do about it" and quite frankly nothing disgusts me more than the defeatist acceptance of the very lie that feminism is dedicated to overcoming. Instead of accepting that the paradigm of bioessentialism is a false dichotomy right from the jump, they embrace and weaponize it against the people whose existence proves the dichotomy is a lie. If gender essentialism is fundamentally false, then it is nobody's fucking business what anybody does with their gender. If the lines don't exist, nobody needs to enforce them. And yet there the terfs go, hunting down people whose lives are none of their business and trying to argue that they represent some great and terrible evil, some downfall of society made flesh, something that makes it totally correct and normal for them to spend so much time thinking about strangers' genitalia. They want this to be a noble crusade so badly they won't even examine what flag they're flying.
I love and support the trans people in my life and will always, always stand on the side of your right to exist, but alongside that, terf rhetoric especially disgusts and infuriates me because it is, at its heart, utter cowardice. The world told them they were weak and stupid and inferior and they fucking believed it. And now they think Fighting The Good Fight For Women means turning around and using the same paradigmatic weapon that hurt them to hurt the people whose existence outside the binary proves the weapon is a lie. They're the same shithead schoolyard bullies who made me believe my entire existence was foundationally wrong for years of my life and I will never, ever side with them or the shitty, cowardly rhetoric that contributed to the loneliest years of my life.
Figure out who you are and do it on purpose. Find the real source of the misery in your life and try fighting that instead of the other crabs in the bucket. Trans rights.
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sxcret-garden · 9 months
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Heeseung ღ Treat you right [M]
ღ Enhypen Heeseung x fem-bodied!reader ღ words: ~2k ღ genre: smut (marking, oral (reader receiving), unprotected sex, a bit of overstimulation) ღ warnings: cheating ღ prompts: “I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard.” + “I like being close to you. You’re warm.”
Desc.: Your friend Heeseung has always been the person you would run to when your shitty boyfriend upset you once again. Little do you know that the secret attraction you harbour for your friend is mutual, and once that fact becomes clear, it doesn’t take long for one thing to lead to the other…
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You sigh, hoping that the bitter aftertaste of your last fight with your boyfriend would disappear with it, as if you could breathe out the feelings, and you snuggle up closer to Heeseung. Your friend, who had welcomed you at his doorstep and let you in without hesitation as soon as he saw the sorry state you were in, is now lying in bed with you, his arms wrapped securely around you.
"You deserve better." - You remember the first time he had told you this, back when you were only just starting to go out with your current boyfriend, and even months later that statement still rings true. In moments like these at least, you believe his words, but when your boyfriend comes crawling back to you, mumbling apologies to you in between the sweetest kisses he can muster, you always end up forgiving him.
"Wanna talk about it?" Heeseung's voice tears through the silence in the room and through your thoughts, even though he's speaking softly. You shake your head however, burying your face in his chest as you pull him closer in your embrace. A sense of safety washes over you, and you let go of the tension in your body as you breathe out. "Then what? Should we just stay like this? Or do you want me to distract you?" He grins as he speaks the last part, and you can only imagine what goes through his head as he does. Still you shake your head.
"Let's stay like this," you mumble, and when you lift your head to look at his face, you add, "I like being close to you. You're warm."
The expression in your friend's eyes changes, and you don't miss the way he gulps at your words and at the proximity of your face to his. His gaze drops to your lips, and though he's fighting hard to focus on any other spot on your face instead, it's useless.
And it's not like you don't feel it too. The attraction, the way you feel at home with him, the way you've repeatedly caught yourself fantasizing about what it would be like to turn your back on your boyfriend and to run away with Heeseung instead. You can't fight the pull towards him - not that you would want to - and then you kiss him, your lips touching for merely a second.
"We shouldn't." He's the one to whisper those words, but their meaning quickly gets lost as you press your lips against his mouth again.
"Whatever," you mutter into the kiss. "That asshole isn't here anyway." Anger now coursing through your veins, you kiss Heeseung with more fervour, and he lets you. Supporting you by your hips as you crawl on top of him, he sighs into the kiss, permitting you to part his lips with your tongue. Sharing open mouthed kisses, your hands find their way up into his hair, and as if you had found a weak spot of his, he breaks the kiss and moans your name when you tug at the short strands. Using the opening, you begin to trail kisses from the corner of his mouth down to his jaw, and when he leans his head back to give you proper access to his neck, you move on to that area. Teeth nipping at his skin, he lets you hear breathy moans, and the sound of his voice only causes you to become more eager.
“Y/N,” he calls out to you suddenly, and when you bring some distance between you to look at him, he cups your face with his hand. “Are you sure about this?”
“Stop asking useless questions,” you mumble, attaching your lips to his jaw again, but he gently pushes you away in order to make eye contact with you again. He sits up with you still on top of him, now taking your face into both his hands, thumbs brushing against your cheeks.
“I just don’t want you to regret it after,” he says calmly, while his gaze drops to your mouth. Biting his lower lip and releasing it slowly while he waits for an answer, you feel yourself driven by impatience most of all when you wrap your fingers around his wrists. Taking his hands away from your cheeks you lean in to kiss him again, placing his arms on your shoulders instead.
“I won’t,” you whisper, and when Heeseung pulls back after kissing you once more, the expression in his eyes has changed. Hands roaming your body and tugging at your clothes, he soon peels off your shirt and you shiver as you feel his warm fingertips against the skin on your back. 
“Then I’m not gonna hold back,” he mutters against your neck, burying his head there and scattering kisses all over while he pulls you as close as possible. Without thinking, you roll your hips against his as you make out, and soon enough you can feel his bulge growing underneath you. He’s the first one to break away, leaving your lips longing for more with every second you don’t feel him kissing you. Hastily taking off his shirt, he then flips your positions around, pinning you to the bed by your wrists and going right back to sharing hot kisses with you.
“Fuck this,” he mutters, rolling his hips against yours and putting more strength behind the movement than you had just a few seconds ago. Heat rushes to your core and you moan into his kiss as you realize he’s no longer holding back, and you feel an overwhelming need to feel him inside you already. 
“Hee,” you call out to him as you throw your arms around him, raking your fingers up into his hair. “Please,” you mutter a single word, and when he parts from you, you know that it won’t take more than that to make him understand what you want. His lips leaving sloppy kisses down your throat and the middle of your chest, he doesn’t waste any more time to help rid you of your remaining clothes before also stripping out of his. 
“Babe…” he mumbles as he presses his mouth against your collarbone, and you involuntarily chuckle for but a second.
“Since when do you call me that?” you ask, and you mewl as he reaches your stomach, sinking his teeth into your skin. You permit him to suck a mark onto the spot right above your hip bone, and when he comes back up and you see the dark expression in his eyes, you feel the air getting knocked out of your lungs. 
“I always call you that in my head when I think about us doing exactly this,” he admits, and a shiver runs down your spine. He quickly kisses a trail further down, until he’s reached the inside of your thigh, and hooking his arms under your legs, he sinks his teeth into the delicate flesh there.
“Fuck,” you mutter as you throw your head back, both at the sudden pain and the thought of him getting off to dirty thoughts about you. And it’s not like you’ve never done the same, so you let out a moan of appreciation while he kisses the spot where he had just nibbled on your skin better. 
“You okay?” he checks in with you, hands searching for yours and intertwining your fingers. He’s so close to your core that you can feel his breath right where you want him most, and you nod quickly.
“Just touch me already, please,” you urge him on, and he doesn’t hesitate. You bite down on your bottom lip, stifling the whine that escapes you when you feel him pressing his lips against your dripping pussy, and you throw your head back. Digging your nails into the backs of his hands, you can feel the vibrations of him chuckling, before he lets his tongue dart across your clit. Alternating between that and wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud to suck on it, he’s quick to make you feel like you’re about to go crazy, and so all you can do is throw your head back and give yourself up to his touches. 
“Fuck… don’t stop,” you mewl, knuckles turning white at this point, and him humming in response. “Please, don’t stop…!” You cry out when you feel him slipping his wet muscle inside you, and he moans at your taste.
“...taste so good,” he mutters after pulling out, and he goes right back to drawing shapes on your clit. Shaking with expectation, you let out another whine when he repeats the process, darting his tongue into your pussy and then dragging it back up to tease your clit. “I-I’m getting close…” you let him know, and that’s when he lifts his head, stopping his ministrations at once.
“Don’t cum yet, babe,” he mutters and he crawls up to kiss you. Tasting yourself on his tongue, you throw your arms around him and drag your nails down his back. “I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard.” His words still ringing in your ears as he parts from you, you feel him pushing into you the next second, and you let out a whine from the overwhelming bliss of being filled up so perfectly. He reaches behind himself to help you wrap your legs around his hips while he lets you adjust to his size, and when he grabs your wrists to pin them against the bed right beside your head, he mumbles,
“You ready?” You nod in desperation.
“Please fuck me.” Heeseung doesn’t hesitate upon hearing your plea, and when he starts snapping his hips into yours, you’re not the only one who moans from the pleasure and the relief. 
“Fuck… shit.” A string of curses falls from his lips, a drop of sweat running down his forehead, and with every time he pulls out and thrusts all the way back in, he hits that delicious spot deep inside you. You feel yourself losing control quickly, clenching your hands into fists and you can’t stop yourself from calling out his name over and over as you’re chasing your high.
“Don’t stop… Heeseung… I swear to god, don’t s-stop…!” Your high comes crashing down on you, shaking your whole body and he fucks you right through it, relishing in the desperate moans and whines you let out as your orgasm fades and the pleasure mixes with the overstimulation. And then he releases inside you with a grunt, and he comes to a halt, panting.
“Fuck…” he breathes out another curse as he rolls off you, lying down right next to you with your upper arms touching and you’re both catching your breaths. You say nothing for a long while, focused on the emotions still racing through your entire body. And then eventually, you move and you lie down on top of him, brushing some strands of hair out of his face and brushing your lips against his.
“Let’s go out,” you say, and your friend reacts with a gasp.
“The two of us?” he questions. And starting to grin, he adds, “Like… as a couple?”
“Yeah,” you answer. “We’ll be so much better together than me and that asshole.” You give him a smile that he returns, and then you kiss him again. “Yes or no?” Heeseung sits up with you on top of him, hands cupping your face, and there’s a kind of joy behind his gaze that you don’t see too often. With half-lidded eyes and a smug smirk sitting on his lips, he gives you a lingering kiss, and then he says,
“I’ll treat you right. Just trust me.”
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Text
✮⋆˙ city of stars; luke castellan x reader blurb
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content: luke castellan x reader blurb warning: mentions of blood and death but not super duper explict or anything, starts fluff but slowly dissolves into an angst puddle author's note: part i of ii in the la la land collection. this one doesn't follow the song it was inspired by too much, but i gave it a shot!! next one should follow the song more closely, but that one was also easier soooooo idk what to tell yall.
city of stars are you shining just for me? city of stars there's so much that I can't see who knows?
luke castellan knew he loved you from the moment he met you. he could feel a tug in his soul the moment you met his eyes over the heads of other campers, a soft smile that had him tripping over his own feet.
you knew you loved luke castellan from the moment he slide his strawberries over to you during breakfast. you knew that he loved them but without a word, he gave them up, eager to see your happiness above his own. it had you hiding your smile in the fleshy red fruits, your cheeks slowly shading to match.
i felt it from the first embrace i shared with you that now our dreams may finally come true city of stars just one thing everybody wants there in the bars and through the smokescreen of the crowded restaurants it's love yes, all we're looking for is love from someone else
a rush a glance a touch a dance
late at night, when luke would drag you from your cabin and sneak you to the dock, the two of you laying down on it and looking up at the stars. you'd point out constellations annabeth had taught you and luke would just talk to you, knowing you'd listen. he'd talk about his mom, thalia, his dad. that last one was the only one he talked about with bitterness, a biting in his tone that had you moving away from him subtly.
a look in somebody's eyes to light up the skies to open the world and send it reeling a voice that says, i'll be here and you'll be alright
i don't care if i know Just where i will go 'cause all that i need's this crazy feeling A rat-tat-tat on my heart
think i want it to stay
so it wasn't all that much of a surprise when luke came to you, spewing offers of leaving the ruthless gods behind, offers of titans who promised to behave, offers of freedom away from shitty parents and meaningless quests. but, had luke been listening to you, he would have known you'd shake your head, slowly stepping away from him like he was a feral beast and you nothing more than soft prey. and even though tears pooled in your eyes as you told luke you loved him, but that this was wrong, you couldn't help but want to go with the boy. but, it was too late now.
city of stars are you shining just for me? city of stars
luke castellan knew he hated you from the moment you shook your head, refusing the asylum he was offering you. he hated the tears that blurred your vision, like you were the one who was hurt. no, no, luke should be the one crying. the girl he used to love was just going to become another pawn for the gods, another obstacle in your way.
you knew you hated luke castellan from the moment that his eyes turned cold towards you, his gaze hardening, never to soften again. even as you desperately reached out to him, offers of it not being too late tumbling from your lips only to be met with biting threats of a sword against your throat. never before had you been scared of the boy, but you knew from this point on that he wouldn't hesitate to strike you down, to run his blade through your body and rip you to shreds. the boy you used to love would be willing to carve your flesh away from your bones simply if the voice in his head promised the demise of his father.
you never shined so brightly
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mykoreanlove · 6 months
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nightmares
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“Don’t you ever come back here; you hear me? No one wants you here. Of course, you’re going to be alone forever. Get lost!”
Your eyes quickly darted upward in a state of panic. It was the middle of the night as you arose from your nightmare. Your entire body trembled, beads of sweat streaming down your temples.
You inhaled deeply, trying to control yourself but failed. Tears started flowing down your cheeks. Despite your efforts to wipe them away and sob quietly, your boyfriend would sense your discomfort even in his sleep.
“Baby?” His raspy voice sounded even deeper, tinted with sleep and concern. “Baby, are you crying?”
Jackson shot up and enveloped you in the tightest embrace known to mankind. “It’s fine. Go back to sleep, Sunni”, you sniffed heavily. “Are you kidding? It’s not fine. What’s wrong, y/n?” He hugged you even tighter and placed a safe kiss on your forehead. Being in Jackson’s embrace felt like a sweet relief, a place of salvation even. Having his strong arms around you made you feel safe; putting the horrors of your dreadful dream past you.
Jackson didn’t push – he himself knew how nerve-wracking it was to talk about your feelings. He never wanted to pressure you, but he had to make sure you knew he was there for you.
Almost inaudibly, he whispered softly: “I know talking about this is hard but bearing it all on your own is even harder. You can always lean on me, baby. I promise.”
“I had that dream again”, you mumbled against his broad chest. “The one with the bouncer?”
You smiled warmly. Even though this dream had haunted you for decades, you only talked about it once briefly – and Jackson remembered. Indeed, he was the most attentive man you had ever dated. Jackson possessed an innate ability to understand your actions, discern your emotions, and anticipate your needs. It felt as though the two of you shared a profound and intimate connection. Unbeknownst to you, he had become your steadfast support and sanctuary, your rock, and ultimately, your home.
You nodded your head.
This dream of yours wasn’t just an ordinary dream. It was a haunting memory that your brain kept replaying over the years.
“Do you want to tell me what you remember?”
By now your tears had stopped falling, but you were afraid they might come back any minute. As if he could read your mind Jackson patted your back and whispered softly: “I’ll dry your tears, baby. Don’t worry. You’re here with me, safe and sound. You can let it out. I got you, y/n.”
The situation was serious, yet you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Get out of my head, Wang”, you teased lovingly. Jackson assaulted your head with sweet, little kisses. “No way, babe. I plan on staying in there forever.”
Forever.
That word startled you, making you feel panicked again. “You’re going to be alone forever!” You took a deep breath and started to pour your heart out. “I know it’s stupid, but I can’t shake off that memory. I was out with friends, and we wanted to visit a club that we were too young for and the bouncer denied us access. We were a bit drunk, and he was a shitty dickhead or whatever but his words never left me.”
You paused.
Re-living that traumatic experience made you tear up. “What did he say exactly?” Jackson’s voice was full of compassion for you. “He said that we should get lost because no one wants us here. But then he said something to me specifically.” You felt Jackson’s thumb on your cheek, wiping away the salty tears. “He said that I’m going to be alone forever. And that hasn’t left me ever since.”
For a while you just laid there, not saying a word to each other. Jackson let go of you and turned on his side, now facing you directly. He took your fragile hand into his and drew small circles on it. “Baby, did you believe him?” You looked at him surprised. “Huh?”
“Do you think you’re having this nightmare over and over again because you believe it’s true? That he was right back then?”
You looked down, too ashamed to face him. Of course, you did. You were aware of the universe mirroring back your insecurities at you, but you weren’t ready to face them yet. Jackson’s eyes saddened even more as he realized that he had been right. His girlfriend, the love of his life, thought she was unlovable.
In the past, he might have been disheartened, internalizing a sense of failure for not making his girl feel loved. However, with time and personal growth from his own challenges, he gained wisdom. Though he loved you wholeheartedly, he now understood the importance of you recognizing your own inherent lovability.
“Baby? Can you look at me?”
You raised your head and looked at him, eyes glistening with a mixture of sadness and shame.
“Tell me, baby. What makes a person lovable?”
Caught off guard, you stumbled for words, failing to find any.
“What makes you lovable, baby? The way you look? Your body? Your pussy? Your job? Your IG followers? Tell me, baby.”
Putting it into words was hard but he was right. You always attached your worth and ability to be loved to something external. And when the external started to crumble, so did you.
“Do you think I love you for any of these things?”
You did which only made you feel worse. Jackson noticed the tears falling and put you right back into his strong embrace. “Oh baby, do you take me for the superficial kind?”
He placed another reassuring kiss on the crown of your head.
“Listen to me. You don’t have to say a single thing. Just listen. Can you do that, baby?” You nodded, gripping his shirt even harder.
“I don’t love you for any of that. Sure, it’s nice to have but that’s not what I fell in love with. I fell in love with your essence, with your whole being. I fell in love with how you care about me and the people you love. I fell in love with your positive outlook on life. I fell in love with the way you gush at dogs and run away from spiders. I love you for all that you are and all that you’re not. I’m sorry you took his words to heart back then, but he was wrong. You’re not going to be alone forever, because you got me. You are amazing, y/n. And lovable. God damn, baby, you are worthy of all the love in the world. I will love you even if your teeth fall out and your hair turns grey. I will love you even if you're broke and banned from social media. To me you’re not a body or an accomplishment – to me you are the most beautiful soul in this plane of existence. Got it?”
Tears of sadness turned into tears of joy – Jackson was saying all the things you needed to hear back then. Or needed to hear even more now. You looked up at him, eyes all puffy and red but still smiling. “I hate it when you cry but you kinda look like a cute red racoon while doing so, baby”, he laughed.
You joined in and shared this heartfelt moment with him. He pressed his forehead to yours and whispered softly: “I really mean what I said, y/n. I love you with all of my heart. So please try to do the same.”
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abyssalzones · 26 days
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What's your comic writing process like? I'm starting to get into making my own comics and I really admire your work!!! Any advice?
Ah, intrepid traveler, you've done well to journey to this secluded mountaintop spire, in search of the answers you seek. I indeed can provide such forbidden comicmancy knowledge... at the cost of your mortal soul...
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coughs. anyway, I'm going to warn you immediately that what works for me does not work for everyone else, and in my experience the way I do things can prove very slow and discouraging for anyone who is more interested in the actual "drawing the damn comic" part of the process. I only do it this way because I enjoy weaving a narrative web that feels not only fully contained but re-readable, but my projects are often so long and my memory so shitty that I can't just keep all of it in my head! It would spill all over the place and make a really embarrassing mess of brain-juice. Not ideal.
but as for my own process, uhh... I suppose a comic would be fitting, right?
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a little choppy but you get the idea.
as for turning words into art, I've been experimenting with figuring out the best way to do that for a little while now. Originally what I was doing for something like Ad Astra Per Aspera was to take my "script" and sketch it out on paper very loosely, before transposing that onto my canvas and working from there:
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...but, I've found that can make it kind of difficult to space everything around on your standard page-size, and the thing I'm having the most problems with currently seems to be finding the sweet spot of panel-size proportions. So, I've taken to printing out standard thumbnail templates (you can just find these on google) and sketching very tiny panels in those, which seems to give me a slightly better sense of scale... (mild chapter 5 spoilers, sorry ad astra fans)
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but I have yet to totally pull through on this, so who knows, maybe I'll try something else in the future!
As for advice, this is probably most applicable to me, but as a disabled artist I have a very hard time managing my workload without literally working myself into injury. I don't think I talked about this publicly but when I was working on that ten year anniversary comic I was literally drawing every single day for 3 solid months. Sometimes, in my case, I really can't bring myself to stop once I've latched onto an idea, and sometimes I find the most rewarding thing I can do with my time is to draw- but I seriously cannot overstate: Do not fucking do this.
You will fuck up your wrist, your back, your neck, your eyes, and probably your mental health. It's a well-known fact that mangaka have a lower life expectancy than the average japanese person due to the intense workload imposed on them by deadlines and personal expectations. Comics are a very demanding artform, and even though I'm not on any sort of mandated schedule there are times where I've toiled away at something when I likely should have been exercising or taking vision-breaks. Therefore the best advice I can give you is to chill the hell out.
Namely, find parts of the process you can be lazy about, and embrace the laziness! You don't like digitally sketching? Don't do it! Skip it, or maybe find a way to traditionally sketch things out in advance like I do. Hate lineart? Don't fucking do it. You really don't feel like wasting your time writing 72k words of comic scripts? ...then, don't be like me. skip that part. I'm a flawed human being and what works for me might not work for you.
The second most important piece of advice I could give is to read comics. Of all kinds. The reason for this is pretty self explanatory: In order to figure out your own comic-making style, you should first pick out bits and pieces from the artist's buffet to add to your plate. Manga, graphic novels, american comics, european comics, weird niche little webcomics, funny papers, anything and everything. This advice rings true of pretty much any art form, but I find it to be essential to honing comic-making skills because so many things you feel will just come intuitively often don't. and that's okay! nobody is born knowing how to leave space for speech bubbles or shape their panels in a way that imitates stretches of time. The best way to figure out stuff like this, in my experience, is to study the "masters", and then after becoming well accustomed to the basics, figure out what rules you want to bend or break to create your own style.
I consider myself to be in equal parts a writer and an artist, which lends itself well to making narrative comics, but maybe you're a bit more of an artist and want to focus on panel-by-panel visual storytelling. Or, conversely, maybe your talents lean closer towards writing, and the art itself is more of a secondary skill. Regardless of your unique blend of talents you can and should make a comic, you should just also be aware of your strengths and try to hone in on those- there will always be opportunities to build up skills you lack, but focusing on what you do best will always lead you in the right direction.
Anyway, that being said, here are some recommendations in no particular order:
Monster, Naoki Urasawa (!!)
Bone, Jeff Smith
Witch Hat Atelier, Kamome Shirahama
The first IDW run of Transformers comics (namely More Than Meets the Eye and Lost Light)
Persepolis, Marjane Satrapi (!!)
Through the Woods, Emily Carroll (really any Emily Carroll comics)
Kill Six Billion Demons (webcomic) (!!)
Akira, Katsuhiro Otomo
The Third Person, Emma Grove
Tintin, Hergé (can be super racist please be wary)
Dungeon Meshi, Ryoko Kui
Calvin & Hobbes, Bill Watterson
Maus, Art Spiegelman
Cucumber Quest (webcomic)
Jellyfish Princess, Akiko Higashimura
Golden Kamuy, Satoru Noda (!!)
Note that I did not grow up with manga so I am seriously behind on a lot of extremely influential japanese comics such as Dragon Ball, One Piece, basically any of the original Shonen Jump comics, but they're widely considered building blocks of the genre so if you love the artform I think you should give them a try! Same goes for classic non-shonen manga genres like various Shoujo, Josei, Yuri, Gekiga, ETC.
same as above applies to a lot of classic DC and Marvel works, I unfortunately am just not a big fan of superhero comics... but I'm sure there's good stuff in there. a couple of my mutuals talk about booster gold and the blue beetle all the time so I'm assuming there has to be something worthwhile.
...and many, many, many more that I'm forgetting! I noticed as I made this list that, to my knowledge, hardly any of these are made by black or just non-japanese-mangaka BIPOC artists, which makes me sad about the gaps in my own comic collection. Therefore, anyone is welcome to add their own recommendations in the replies!
now go forth, and combine images with text!!!!!!!!!!!
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k-odyssey · 3 months
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Wedding Impossible | ep 7-8
It's been a while since I've watched a drama where a kiss makes me physically feel something. This one definitely did. And it had everything to do with the build-up.
You have Ji Han, who's been going through all five stages of grief re:his unwanted but very real feelings for his future sister-in-law. Invoking god and buddha. Folding paper cranes. Anything to stop feeling like a shitty brother.
And then the tables turn. He's told about Do Han's secret. Suddenly his hyung is in the wrong. Not because he's into boys but because it looks like he's using Ah Jeong. Everything is fair game now, as long as he can protect her.
Ah Jeong has also been busy crushing her feelings, after Ji Han's denial. She showed her vulnerable side, half-admitting that she liked him, and he shot her down.
She's a good actress but there's a difference between playing a role on screen/on stage, and turning your life into a web of lies. She's miserable, especially looking at her parents.
So we have repressed feelings on both sides. And the kind of exhaustion that comes from telling lies all day to keep up appearances. They even admitted that to each other on the set.
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Ji Han finally decides to be honest, with himself and with Ah Jeong. About his own feelings anyway. Even if he has an ulterior motive for telling her then, he's finally saying something true. And she is broken and mad. Because she's been working so hard at keeping up the lie. She made a promise too.
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But once the truth of his feelings is out, she can hardly pretend they aren't mutual and kisses him. And honestly, some of the best fictional kisses come after a big conflict. It has meaning. They're bridging that gap. They're embracing this love, in spite of it all.
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Other things I enjoyed ep 8:
the choice of having no soundtrack during the important scenes (the brothers' fight, the confession). honestly a badly-timed song can easily ruin a build-up.
they both seem a little startled at the reciprocation. like "oh so you do like me."
Ah Jeong's interlude on set where she remembers who she is for a while. How Ji Han is a genuine fan of hers.
What Ji Han told the ex.
Ji Han kept calling Do Han selfish but I hope he takes some of that back later. I know it was mostly cuz he thinks Ah Jeong is being used. But he's also hurt at the lack of trust and I mean, it's hardly easy to come out in a conservative society. There was no guarantee that Ji Han would be accepting. Though it's disconcerting that he never tries to gage Ji Han's feelings. Could be as easy as watching a movie with secondary gay characters in it? To see if he reacts? Idk.
I'm conflicted. We'll see how that goes.
It's kind of funny to think how bad Ji Han and Ah Jeong will look from the outside. Though I'm sure she'd take the worst of the remarks. But considering she's only leaving a fake relationship for a real one, and he's only admitting to liking her cuz he knows his brother's gay, the gossip will be BAD. And there's really no easy way to fix that. Only live with it or Do Han comes out publicly.
Ji Han will be hurt when he realizes what was really happening tho (the contract). Not looking forward to this conversation.
Hope their little trip to escape reality next week won't mess up with the pacing. Should be fun to watch tho!
Edit: just fixed the episode numbers, oops.
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spookyquill · 7 months
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what do u think about dazai comfort after his s/o has a shitty day ?
Something stirred in Dazai’s gut. No nausea, but he had… a feeling. And this feeling only amplified when he entered his home.
The hallway light was on, the living room and kitchen light remained off, which was weird. You were definitely home, your discarded shoes laid strewn about on the floor which was another weird thing because normally you’d take them off and leave them beside the front door. And if you were home then you’d be in the kitchen planning dinner with the tv on for background noise. But none of that. It was eerily quiet.
It was disturbing.
Dazai swiftly takes his shoes off, leaving them in the doorway. As he walks down the hall, he slides off his coat and throws it over the living room couch.
He hears the shower turning on, signifying exactly where you are.
When he gets to the bedroom, he sees a mess of clothes on the bed. He recognises your work clothes from the mess, along with some of your favourite hoodies.
The ensuite door is slightly ajar, light spilling from the crack along with the sound of the shower. Along with it, Dazai hears heavy breathing accompanied by some sniffling.
He opens the door more, stepping into the foggy bathroom.
“(Y/n)?” He calls out.
The heavy breathing stops. “Y-Yes?”
“Are you okay?” He steps closer to the shower, we’re he can see your figure in the blurry window.
Silence follows his question, which irks him slightly more. He carefully ride himself of his gem before opening the shower door.
You stare at him, eyes red and puffy and clearly wet but not because of the shower.
“I don’t know. I just had this feeling all day and I don’t know why. I couldn’t shake it off so when I got home I tried putting on my favourite jumpers see if that did anything but it didn’t, so then I tried showering to see if that would wash it off but it isn’t working. I don’t know why I’m feeling like this there’s no reason for me to feel like this but I am and I -“
Dazai steps into the shower, embracing you into his clothed chest. He feels his clothes soaking in the water, the bandages around his neck and wrist begin to cling uncomfortably to his skin.
It takes you a few moments to register the situation.
“Osamu!” You try pushing him out the shower but his strength holds him there, unmoving. “Your bandages are getting soggy!”
“I don’t care.” Dazai is rarely ever serious, so when he uses that tone with you, you know he won’t budge even if you desperately wanted him to.
You give in to his hug, loosely gripping his wet shirt and burying your face into his collarbone. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologise. You have nothing to apologise for. Sometimes we just have rough days for no reason. And that’s okay. As long as you let me know so that way I can try get you out of the slump.” He begins carefully carding his fingers through your hair. “For now, we’ll finish our shower and then we can order in food and watch a movie together. How’s that sound?”
You nod. “It sound good. Thank you.”
Dazai smiles. “You’re welcome. I’ll always be here for you, even if it means getting wet for you.”
“I don’t know if that was supposed to be a dirty joke or not.”
A small laugh escapes Dazai’s throat. “Whichever way you take it, it’s true.”
~•~
Hope you enjoyed!
Likes, comments are reblogs are appreciated!!!
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hannyoontify · 1 year
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lessen your burden - choi seungcheol
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member | seungcheol x gn!reader
genre | angst, js hurt no comfort, breakup!au (i apologize in advance)
word count | 1.2k
synopsis | seungcheol loved you more than anything, but when he learns that you no longer feel the same way, he's still a little reluctant to let you go.
warnings | cursing, seungcheol is extremely emotionally codependent/unstable, reader is a bit of a dick (i think), arguing, reader loses their shit
notes | to be completely honest, i can't tell who's the "bad guy" here bc this is loosely based on true events from yours truly 💀 tag yourself i'm [name]
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''i'm sorry. i'm sorry that i'm such a shitty boyfriend and i'm sorry that i keep having these bad thoughts about us and-'
'seungcheol, what are you saying right now?' you asked, a hint of sleep still laced in your voice. it's only been 3 minutes since you woke up and your boyfriend was sitting in bed next to you with tears in his eyes as he apologized profusely for absolutely nothing. you wondered if this was his fourth or fifth time crying to you this week.
'i'm sorry, i'm so sorry. i don't know what else to say, i feel like i should be apologizing right now, but i don't know. i'm sorry. i'm stressed and today just isn't a good day' he rambled on, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
'seungcheol, what the fuck are you talking about? it's only been 5 minutes since we woke up, what do you mean it's not a good day' you said. you would be lying if you said that you weren't slightly agitated by this whole situation because this wasn't what you wanted to hear first thing in the morning.
you noticed seungcheol flinch at your choice of words and you ran a hand against your tired face. 'sorry, i didn't mean to curse'
to say that you and seungcheol's relationship had been tense recently would be an understatement. with your upcoming performance test and potential promotion at work, you were stressed and under a lot of pressure to do well. seungcheol was also job hunting after he was let go from his previous company that was financially struggling. every day, he sat at his computer as he sent out resume after resume and only left your apartment to drink with his friends or for interviews which never ended well.
the two of you had been getting into more arguments as well. it first started out small; bickering when you found a miscellaneous sock on the floor when you got home that soon transitioned to screaming matches every other night. but now, you were both too tired for that as well. you knew, eventually, that you two would break up. it was inevitable.
it wasn't that seungcheol was a bad person or a bad partner, you were simply incompatible with him. that, and you also fell out of love with him at some point and grew tired of your relationship with him. it seemed like all you ever did was give, but you received almost nothing.
'can you please hold me?' seungcheol asked in a quiet voice. a small, exasperated sigh left your lips before you could register what you were doing. once you did, you tried to cover it up by rustling the duvet loudly and motioned for your upset boyfriend to come closer to you.
but seungcheol noticed. he always did. he noticed the way you slightly rolled your eyes whenever he came up to you on the verge of tears. he noticed that every night, you seemed to inch further and further away from him until you were on the edge of the bed, threatening to fall off the mattress. he always tried to brush it off, making up lame excuses for your distant behavior, but now, it was getting harder for him to think of excuses.
pressing his head against your chest, seungcheol listened to your soft heartbeat as you absentmindedly ran your fingers through his hair.
'cheol, we should break up' you quietly said. seungcheol pulled away from your embrace and looked straight ahead. he couldn't look at you. he wouldn't.
'why?' oh he knew why. seungcheol knew why but he still wanted to hear it coming from your mouth–
'i don't love you anymore'
–he takes it back. he takes it all back. he never wants to hear those words coming out of your mouth ever again, it felt like a punch to his gut. seungcheol suddenly couldn't breathe.
'[name], you don't- you don't mean that. please. i need you to comfort me right now, tell me that everything is going to be okay. you can't leave me, not when i'm at my lowest point like this'
you silently slid out of your bed and put on your bathrobe, facing your back towards him. 'i'm sorry, seungcheol. i don't know if i can do this anymore. i'm tired. doesn't my lack of effort make you feel unloved? like you deserve better?'
your boyfriend–almost ex–shook his head profusely. 'no, you're perfect for me. please don't leave me [name]'
'begging isn't gonna get you anywhere, choi seungcheol'
hearing his full name coming from your lips made seungcheol's blood run cold. you only called him by his full name when you were on the verge of lashing out at him and against his better judgement, he apologized again. 'i'm sorry, [name]. if you tell me what i did wrong, i'll fix it and-'
you whipped around. for the first time that day, seungcheol saw your eyes though now he wishes he never had. your usual shining eyes were void of any love and joy that used to be there. instead, they were dark and stormy. full of anger and scorn.
'when is the last time you've comforted me, seungcheol? you go on and on about how you need me and you need to be comforted by me. think about it. when's the last time, you've held me in your arms and told me those 5 words that you want to hear all the time?' once the floodgates had opened, there was no turning back.
seungcheol sat there, stunned as you continued to berate him. what you were saying wasn't wrong. he had been so focused on trying to make himself feel better, he never bothered asking you what was on your mind. he wondered how often your words 'it's going to be okay' were actually meant for you instead of him.
'when i wasn't chosen for the promotion last month, where were you? you were out, drinking with your friends until 2 in the fucking morning'
'i don't understand why you're so obsessed with the promotion, you're still young and you have plenty of time-'
'I DID IT FOR YOU, SEUNGCHEOL. I DID IT FOR US' in the end, you had exploded. 'EVERYONE'S ON MY ASS 24/7 ASKING ME WHEN I'M GONNA GET MARRIED. HOW CAN I GET MARRIED WHEN MY BOYFRIEND IS UNEMPLOYED AND MY PAYCHECK CAN BARELY SUPPORT US BOTH?!'
you took a deep breath, not realizing until now that you were crying. there were tears streaming down your cheeks, similar to seungcheol. taking a moment to collect yourself, you rubbed at your eyes, trying to stop your flowing tears.
'everyday, i get yelled at and scolded by my seniors. i'm currently doing the workload of two people, do you remember me telling you that?'
seungcheol felt a pang of guilt in his chest. he did remember and watching you breakdown like this left him in horror–
'and then i come home, to my apartment that i pay for. and the dishes are still in the sink. the laundry isn't folded. did you expect me to do all the housework as well?'
–was he really this much of a burden to you?–
'i'm tired of this, seungcheol. please. i'm tired of giving and not receiving anything in return' although you stopped crying, your eyes were glistening with tears as you looked at him desperately.
–if that's what you really wanted, he would give it to you–
'i'll be out of here by the end of this week'
–because he still loved you.
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metalsprinkles · 6 months
Text
Bad Days - Johnny "Soap" MacTavish 
Warnings: semi-detailed descriptions of depression. this is purely a self-indulgent work cause i've been having a very tough time recently, but thinking about the 141 makes it better! Also not beta read cause I refuse to reread my work🙃Enjoy!!!
You'd had a shitty day at work, and all you wanted was to come home and wallow in your feelings. Johnny had been deployed for months, and he didn’t have the slightest clue on when he'd be back home. He hadn't been able to communicate with you regularly either, due to him having very spotty reception. 
Walking up to your door, you pull your keys out, when all of a sudden, the door swings open. And standing there you see your boyfriend. Your Johnny. 
He expected you to be excited. Thrilled, even, at his return. What he hadn't expected was your face crumbling and sobs falling from your lips. Immediately, he takes you into his arms and starts to comfort you. 
"It's okay, sweet boy, everything's alright. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. 'M gonna take real good care of ye, I promise." 
Rubbing his hands along your arms, he ushers you inside. "It's too cold bun, need tae get you inside"
He sits you down on the couch gently and wraps a blanket around you. "You stay right here, I’ll be right back, my love. Going tae make you some tea and bring a snack for you"
Keeping true to his word, Johnny's back in less than 5 minutes, immediately taking his place next to you on the couch. Once again taking you into his arms, he lets you fall apart in his embrace. His face fixes into a grimace at seeing and hearing the sobs rack your body. It feels like someone's reached into his chest and pulled out his heart. He hates seeing you like this. The only thing he can think is that he needs to fix it. He can’t have his baby being sad especially when he’s there in person.
"Shhh, yer face is much too handsome for these tears, dove," he whispers to you. "Need ye tae talk tae me 'bout what's going on"
"Just a bad day," you respond.
He scoffs. "Seems like more than just a bad day, love."
"Missed you. It started with a bad day, then it was a bad week, and before I knew it, I'd felt bad for a whole month," you sighed.
"Why didn't you tell me bonnie?"
Hiding your face in his chest you reply, "Didn't wanna bother you. You were working. Don't wanna distract you with my whining. It's not even about anything important."
He tilts your head up with his index finger, "If it's enough to upset you this much, it's important. Anything that upsets you is important to me. My job is tae keep you safe and happy. How am I supposed tae do that if you don't tell me what's going on, sweet boy?"
"I dunno," you mumble while once again burying your face, but in his neck this time. 
His chuckle reverberates throughout your body. "Silly boy, I can't see your pretty face when you hide from me like that."
"I've been crying all day Johnny, I look horrible."
Johnny raises his eyebrows and gives you a stare that makes you second guess whether or not you just insulted his mohawk. "Don't say shite like that, bonnie. 'S the furthest thing from the truth. Yer the most beautiful boy I've ever seen in my life. Don't care how you think you look, I'll always see you for what you are, and you truly are beautiful. Inside and out. That being said, you look gorgeous even in this moment"
"You're gonna make me start crying again babe"
His gaze softens and he takes your face in his hands again. With a soft peck to your temple, he says, "Well let's avoid that, why don't we, hmm? Do you wanna talk about what's bothering you anymore?"
"Mmm not right now. Just wanna snuggle with you for a bit. But we can talk about it later, maybe?"
He nods, "Whenever you're up to it, bun. I'm always here to listen to you. I'm sorry I'm not always here physically, though."
"It's your job, Johnny. I get it. I mean it's hard sometimes, but we make it work. Nothing about the way I feel is your fault. I just get sad sometimes yknow?"
"I know bonnie. Just wish you didn't have tae deal with it at all. Shouldn't have to have any thoughts in that pretty head if you don't want 'em."
You giggle. "I love you Johnny. That's always gonna be true, no matter what. Regardless of how sad I am, I'll always be yours and you'll always be mine."
"Always, my beauty. My love for you is infinite. Never ending."
“Promise?” you whisper. 
“Swear to ye baby. Let's get you feeling better, hmm? Turn on one of your shows and I'll go make some soup for you, hen,” he says, standing up.
“Does that mean we can watch gossip girl?” You ask shyly
“‘Course we can. Go ahead and put it on. I'll be back in a minute darling. Actually, do me just one favor, bon”
Cocking your head to the side you ask, “What's that Johnny?”
A smile cracks on his face, “Go grab us some blankets and stuffies from the bedroom, eh? Don't want your cold little toes touching me while I'm trying to watch the show”
“I do not have cold toes Johnny MacTavish! It's not my fault you're a human furnace,” you scoff at him. 
He just looks over at you and chuckles again. “I know bonnie, I love yer cold feet,” He lets out a full belly laugh as he catches one of the throw pillows you chucked at his head. “Just fucking with ye sweet boy. But please, can you bring some extra blankets? And pillows too? If you're up for it, I'll make you a pillow fort to watch our show in. 
Your eyes light up at the prospect of a pillow fort. Thinking about one of the last times you had made one, you realize that you hadn't since you were a child. With a nod, you head to your shared bedroom picking out your favorite pillows and blankets, along with your favorite stuffies. 
Johnny raises his eyebrows when he sees everything you're bringing to the living room, already seeing himself in the future having to lug everything back to the bedroom himself because you'll be too tired to do it yourself. 
“Don't look at me like that Johnny,” you pout. “I needed all of them so the vibes could be perfect! You can't have a pillow fort without a minimum of 4 blankets, that's like basic pillow fort knowledge.” 
“You're right, dove, how silly of me to forget that. Get yourself warmed up on the couch and I'll finish up the food. I'll be with you in just a minute, handsome.”
With a blush dusting your cheeks, you nod and let out a hum of contentment. You head toward the couch, getting yourself settled in and wrapping yourself and your favorite stuffie up in a blanket. Your smile to yourself thinking about how well Johnny takes care of you. You don’t even have to ask him to care for you. He can always just sense when something is wrong and he drops whatever he’s doing to be able to take care of you. It’s one of the things you love most about him. You’re so lost in thought, you jump a little when he plops down next to you on the couch.
“You okay there, tiger?” He asks while running his hands through your hair.
“Was just thinking about you. ‘Bout how you take care of me.”
“I’ll always take care of you, bonnie. That’s my job. You know that. It’s the greatest privilege I’ve been given aside from the pleasure of being your boyfriend.”
“You’re too sweet to me Johnny. I don’t know what I’d ever do without you.”
He cups your cheek in his hand, “You’ll never have to figure that out, dove. Why don’t you tell me about what made you so upset?
“I just got stressed at work one day. Then I came home and decided to rest a bit. I ended up falling asleep and slept through the night, but then I just couldn’t get back into my routine. I couldn’t eat, could barely take care of myself, really. I would just wake up, go to work, come back home and go to bed. Today was just an absolute shit show at work and it just sent me over the edge. I obviously felt terrible, but I mean, I guess it was a little bit better than just feeling nothing at all.” You sigh as you sit back against the couch, feeling like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders. 
Johnny sighs as he just wraps his arms around you and holds you against his chest. “I know it’s hard to understand this, but yer never a burden tae me, sweet boy. Like I said it’s my job to take care of you. Even when I’m not here, I want you to know that I’m always here for you. Whether you need to scream, cry, be distracted, or even just sit in silence, I will always be here when you need it. And when I’m away I’ll do everything I can tae make sure I’m checking up on my lovely boy because he deserves the best and that’s exactly what I’m gonnae do.”
“Thank you Johnny. I just feel like my issues are nowhere near as important as the things you deal with at work. I feel bad taking up your time on something so silly when there’s much bigger issues you have to solve.”
“Bonnie you dinnae fash yerself about my job. You’ve got your own tae worry about. I can manage my job and taking care of you just fine. You’re never a burden on me, sweet boy.”
“Thank you Johnny. Thank you for taking care of me and getting me out of my own head,” you say manhandling him into the perfect position so that you could wrap your arms around his waist and lie your head on his chest. The thrum of his heartbeat keeping you grounded. 
“What else are boyfriends for, eh? Tonight’s gonnae be all about you, lovely. Let’s eat and watch some of that silly show you’re obsessed with and then we’ll get you a nice warm bath and tuck you into bed, yeah?”
“That sounds great, Johnny. I love you so, so much,” you say as he pulls you into his side and wraps another blanket around the two of you. You feel him kiss the crown of your head while he runs his hands up and down your back comfortingly. The day was bad, but the night would be so much better. Everything is better when Johnny’s home.
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gumsnail682 · 8 months
Text
Mammon the Service type-
The Submissive type will do anything for the one they love, buy any gift, tell any secret, find any information and even make every wish come true whether their love really wants it or not.
Cross posted on my AO3 (Link in my bio)
You were having an overall shitty day, no, a shitty week. Nothing was going right for you, you couldn't relax for even a second because of some big test one of your teachers decided to spring on you, and even after studying non-stop you completely bombed it!
You got most of the questions right but the professor seemed to hate you and used literally the dumbest reasons to mark you wrong. "It seems he has something against Humans, he did the same thing to Solomon." Satan was also upset, he had spent so much time teaching you only for it to mean nothing because of that teacher.
"ugh, I wish he would just die!" You obviously didn't mean it but you were upset, everyone says things they don't mean when they're blinded by irritation.
But Mammon didn't see it that way, he happened to "Overhear" your conversation with Satan and three days later that same professor was found dead.
It had been a shock to the entire school, you didn't see it yourself thank Diavolo but from what you heard it was anything but pleasant. His eyes were gouged out completely, one of his hands was found a few feet away from the rest of his body and his chest was ripped open, according to someone who saw the gruesome scene.
When you heard the news you were in shock, Satan was the one to tell you. "I.. I know I said I wished he was dead but.. I didn't mean it." You said, hands covering your mouth.
"The timing is quite suspicious but I know you'd never be capable of something so gruesome. If it makes you feel any better I can look into it more." Satan offers in an attempt at comfort.
"Thanks but no, I'd rather not think about it." You felt sick, even though you didn't do anything you felt so guilty as if it was somehow your fault. You decided to go to Mammon, he never failed to cheer you up.
"Hey, Mams?" He seemed to notice your distress immediately.
"Hm? Need something from the great Mammon?" He asked, not wanting to sound too alarmed, he didn't want you to know just how easily he could read you.
"Can we go to your room? I need some comfort right now." Mammon couldn’t describe the amount of euphoria he felt whenever you come to him for things like this.
It made him feel so special, so loved and needed, it was addicting to him the way you treated him as if he mattered.
He brought you to his room quickly, no questions asked. "I can tell something's eatin' ya, what's the matter?" He asked, holding you in a comforting embrace.
He listened intently as you explained how you felt, drying your eyes when tears would escape. “Hey, listen to me, one comment said in anger isn't gonna cause someone to up and die. I get how this can be scary for a human but there's no way you could be at fault.” His words meant more to you than anyone else's.
“I guess you're right, thank you Mammon.” When you smiled at him his gaze softened and he curled himself around you. “Someone clingy today.” You chuckled.
“Is it a crime to wanna hold my human?” your voice was so comforting he nearly fell asleep.
“That's right, just keep smiling. I won't allow anyone or anything to dim your light, not Lucifer, not anyone." Mammon thought to himself as you fell asleep in his arms.
He noticed every change in your expression, every smile, every hum, and every snore. Mammon felt pure bliss as you nuzzled your face into his neck, wanting to be closer to him. He was truly smitten with you, you were the light of his life, his reason to keep going.
If anyone caused your smile to falter he would deal with them personally, usually, he would just threaten or hurt the person that caused you despair but when he heard you say you wanted that teacher dead he couldn't stop himself.
He knew you didn't mean it but that didn't matter in the moment, he did feel guilty, horribly guilty because his actions caused you to feel awful. He was going to make it up to you though, he always would even if you would never know what he did.
Mammon would do anything to keep what he's been doing hidden but something within him snapped when he saw Belphegor’s hands around your neck.
He felt like something was wrong, very wrong and he let his instincts guide him to where you were. When he saw his youngest brother's hands around your neck it was like his most primal instincts took hold of him.
He threw Belphegor off you, “How dare you put your dirty hands on MY HUMAN!” You’ve never seen Mammon so angry, you fell to the floor, hands moving to where Belphogore was just strangling you. The area was already starting to feel sore and you knew there was bound to be a huge bruise.
Your eyes were glued to Mammon who had completely lost it, “Mammon.. Mammon stop!” Your voice was coarse and it hurt to talk but you still called to him, “Mammon please stop you’re scaring me!” You cried, tears escaping your eyes, Mammon only stopped his assault on his brother when he heard you crying.
He was by you in an instant, holding you close to him as tears welled up in his eyes. “You’re ok, it's ok now.” He held you in a comforting embrace and was so happy when you didn't flinch away.
“Mammon!” Your hands clenched around his shirt as you trembled in his arms.
“I’m here, I'm here, you’re ok.” He tried to soothe you but knew this would take a lot more than a soft voice and reassuring words.
“Mammon, what happened!?” Lucifers and the others had run upstairs and saw the aftermath.
“Belphagor tried to kill MC!” Mammon moved to cover your ears so you wouldn't have to endure the yelling that was about to transpire.
At one point Mammon took you back to his room and locked the both of you in there, thanks to Mammon you didn't hear most of the yelling and were very thankful for it.
You were still shaken up and trembling and you couldn't take much more right now. “Is.. did you kill him?” You managed to ask.
“I.. don't know. I didn't check. Would you.. Hate me if I did?” You sniffled and held him tighter.
“No, I could never hate you Mammon never ever, you saved my life! I love you too much to ever hate you.” You didn't even have to think about what you were saying.
Mammon was absolutely stunned, he never thought you could love him, not in the way he loved you. “I love you too MC, no one is ever gonna hurt you again I promise. I’ll do anything to keep you safe, I don't care what I have to do or who I have to hurt I just want you to be safe and happy beside me.” Mammon held you tightly and you just couldn't find yourself being afraid of the implications of that statement.
After that night you willingly turned a blind eye to the disappearances of people who hurt you, you knew it was Mammon's doing but willingly looked the other way. It was comforting knowing Mammon was always there, you felt safer.
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skzhocomments · 7 months
Text
My only Faith is you - Jeongin (I.N) Oneshot Fanfic (Vampire AU)
Tumblr media
HALLOWEEN SPECIAL
Pairing: Jeongin (I.N of Stray Kids) x OC (name: Faith)
Genre: mature, angst, romance, Vampire AU
Word Count: ~13k
Warnings: mature, explicit sexual content, swearing, angst, depression, crying, mentions of non-consensual interactions, blood play (Jeongin is a vampire)
This is just a story that doesn’t describe Jeongin or other mentioned Stray Kids’ members true characters in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.
This story is also on Wattpad (click here) and AO3 (click here)
A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!
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Summary
In-between jobs, Faith cursed the hell out of the world for dealing her such shitty hands. 'The light at the end of the tunnel is not a train, the light at the end of the tunnel is not a train, the light at the end of the tunnel is not a train.' - was her mantra, the only reason that kept her pushing despite her astronomical debt. She was going to get out of the town no matter what. She never believed in God, for He never answered her prayers. But what happens if one day someone hears her pleas for help, and what happens if that someone is not human, nor is he God? What happens if that someone longs for the very essence running through her veins, to the point it hurts? Will she just forget his existence and stay oblivious, pretending they never met, since that would keep her safe? Will she even see him again? Or will she embrace the danger, as being in danger has always been the only thing that got her heart racing and made her feel alive? Mature content ahead. 18+ © all rights reserved by skzhocomments (Tumblr), skzho (Tumblr)/ storminsidemycore (Wattpad), storminsidemycore (AO3)
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My only Faith is you - Jeongin Oneshot Fanfic (Vampire AU)
~I.N's POV~
Humans are disgusting creatures.
Selfish, vile, egoistical, sinful, self-centred, unscrupulous, obsessed with themselves, way too proud for their own good.
But still, as horrible as they are... I need them.
I need humans to survive.
This is, for me, a fact of life that's still hard to accept, even though I've been like this... for many years now. Way too many. In fact, more years than any pathetic human life could even reach.
This inherent necessity I have for humans was initially impossible to control. The pretty girl from the coffee shop with the way too short skirt for the times, the drunkard sleeping on a park bench on a random Wednesday night, or the clumsy nerd boy with the round glasses holding his science books way too tightly for his own good under his arm, his plaided shirt too tight and ridiculously tucked into his high-waisted pants – no one was safe from me, for I couldn't hold back the desire I had for that extremely delicious something that flows through those small human veins. Oh, how I enjoyed the way their heart rate went up, pumping even more of that life elixir I hold so dear, when the realisation of what was going to happen hit them.
Their screams were annoying, though. Especially the girls'. High-pitched and irritating as fuck. I always had to make them shut up quicker. Don't get me wrong, men squeal as well, but they're more like... rats. A man's scream sounds almost funny, considering how macho man they see themselves. No one's macho on the verge of death, I suppose.
Let's just say that the first few decades of my new existence were unruly. The blood gave me so much dopamine, I couldn't stop myself, nor did I want to. I was young, barely turned for a few years, and I had fun. Being a sickly kid, I was never allowed to do much, but when I became a vampire, damn, did I not hold back! I allowed myself all the fun I've missed out on in the early years of my life, and I drank all the blood I could, my lips permanently stained red.
That all ended when I met my current family, as I like to call them now. It's unusual to meet too many vampires in the same place. There's not many of us, barely a handful all around the country. So, when I met Chris, everything changed.
I was leaving a bar with a pretty hussy: blonde hair, big tits, amazing thighs. Frankly, I didn't give a shit for any of that, what I wanted from her was to sink my teeth in her jugular vein and leave her cold, but for starters, as much as she was attractive, she was the biggest slut the '30s had ever seen. The thing about those years was that women were either wife material or easy, and that slut certainly wasn't any wife material. I picked her because barely anybody cared for girls like her that would flaunt their femininity, sleep around, and leave practically nothing to the imagination. Men wanted shy, reserved women, so who was going to miss this prostitute?
With as many affairs as she had, no one would suspect anything when she would inevitably turn up in a ditch on the other side of the city. I thought about it long and hard, even though I hated it and would've much rather been reckless, but what's key to vampires is that our existence must stay a secret unless we want to be hunted down, so I needed to hand-pick my victims meticulously.
It only took one espresso martini and a wink to convince her to go with me. Her laugh was annoying, but I was hungry, and her neck looked appetizing as fuck. So much so, that I couldn't even wait until we got back to my place. If I did, things would've maybe been different now, and I would've still been alone, perhaps.
I pushed her against the wall and kissed her neck, preparing it for the bite. Her perfume almost made me gag. I preferred it when people didn't use any on their skin, but oh well, beggars can't be choosers. When my teeth pierced the smooth skin on her neck, she let out such a loud scream, I wanted to smack her. Still, I just covered her mouth and continued drinking her essence. Her blood didn't taste too amazing: I found out that some people taste better than others. Before having time to analyse it, though, I felt myself being kicked to the ground so quickly and powerfully, I didn't even have time to process it.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing out here?!" a man's voice shouted at me, annoyed. I was also extremely angry: who did this idiot think he was to interrupt my meal?
And then it clicked. A normal person wouldn't have been able to shake me off. Or rather - a human wouldn't have been able to. Us vampires are blessed with inhumane force, specifically so we can easily hold our victims down and eat from them. It's just the way mother nature made us, and it's nothing more than a predator and prey dynamic between us and humans. Just the cycle of life.
"What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck are you doing?!" I shouted back and got myself up from the ground. A quick glance at the girl told me that she's passed out, so there was at least some luck there. Her screams would've made me go insane for real – I'd probably snap her neck.
"Saving your ass! Why the fuck are you eating out here? What if someone comes?!" the angry man came towards me and grabbed my collar forcefully. I was shocked to notice that I can't smack his hands away, for his grip was too strong, and he was more powerful than me.
That was a first. I've never met other vampires before, not even the one who turned me. He left me before I got the chance to wake up.
"What's so wrong with that?! I'd just leave. It's not like anyone would see me, no?" I replied coldly, being able to control my anger better now that I wasn't as hungry. The bitch's blood was awful, but it did its job.
"If anyone would, would you kill them too?" he raised an eyebrow and let go of me.
"I mean – I guess so?"
"That's sad. What's your objective, anyway? Messing around and eating? Why don't you do something more productive?"
"Tsch." I scoffed. "Like what? And what do you know about me, anyway?"
"Most things." He shrugged. "I've been following you for some time now, Jeongin. Or should I call you I.N, as you introduced yourself to her 20 minutes ago?" he pointed to the woman on the floor, who was still unconscious, two thin lines of deep red blood flowing from her neck.
"Who the fuck are you?" I replied, confused. Who was this guy and why did he know so much about me?
"Name's Chris. Or Chan, whichever you'd like." He handed me his right hand, waiting for a shake.
"Woah!" I rolled my eyes. "Really explicit! Well, Chris, care to tell me why you've been following me?" I slapped his hand away instead of shaking it, making him smirk.
"I wanted to ask you to join us."
"And who's us?"
"My companions. Fellows that are... like me and you. We call ourselves Stray Kids."
"What a dumb name." I mocked. "And why exactly would I want to join you?"
"Well, why would you want to be alone? Doesn't it get lonely?"
I scoffed again. What was this idiot telling me?
"Look, I'm not interested in any... "companionship" or whatever the fuck you want to call it."
"Suit yourself, then." The man shrugged and turned around. "But if you change your mind, you can find us on Fable Street 143. The big house with the green door. You can't miss it."
"Like hell I would join you. I don't need to hang out with a bunch of nobodies."
"Oh, and don't forget to take care of that." He ignored my snarky reply and pointed to the passed-out girl. "You can leave the poor thing live, no one's gonna believe her anyway."
And with that, he left.
~
The following months passed by excruciatingly slow.
It's so ironic. I've lived for a long time, but the months ever since that encounter went by slower than a hundred years.
I kept thinking about the man, and I couldn't help but feel like he emanated an aura that demanded respect. And more than that, he raised a suspicious curiosity inside of me; one I've never felt before.
That's how I ended up on Fable Street 143, paying close attention to the big house I've been told about. I kept waiting and waiting, but the green door never opened, I couldn't hear any sounds from the inside, and no one seemed to live there - metaphorically, of course, because no other fellows of mine would be alive.
Was it a scam? I thought at first, before deciding that I ain't in a patient state to keep waiting. I just went to the door and opened it, walking inside like I owned the place.
As soon as I walked in, loud laughter could be heard from a room on the opposite side of the house. I took my time walking towards the voices, admiring the interesting architecture on the walls. Intricate shapes were carved in wood, the height of the room impressive. Every detail pointed towards a Victorian architecture and evoked memories I thought to be long gone from my brain. It looked similar to the house I grew up in, making me feel even a bit... nostalgic.
When I finally reached the end of the large hallway, the smell of burning wood coming from the fireplace of the big living room I walked in welcomed me. In front of the fireplace, two big sofas and a coffee table made the place feel cosier, a few boys sitting leisurely and playing what looked like some sort of board game.
The left side of the room was more like an arcade, or a game room: there were all sorts of entertainment, such as a pool table, a football table, some game cabinets. There was a comical contrast between this side of the room, and the right side, where only a large table with many chairs scattered around it caught my eye.
"Oh?" one of the people on the sofa noticed me and turned around, raising an eyebrow expectedly. He had chestnut brown hair, however a blonde strand stood out in his bangs.
The man I got to know as Chris was also on the sofa, smirking.
"You came." Was all he said, before standing up and coming in front of me to shake my hand.
I decided to accept his shake this time.
"Is this the guy you've been telling us about?" another man spoke, his features cat-like.
"I'm Jeongin." I nodded shortly.
"Well, Jeongin, we're glad you decided to join us."
"I haven't decided anything-" I started, but was quickly cut off.
"We were just about to go feast. Wanna come with?" Chris tapped my shoulder once, then left the room without waiting for my reply. I once again felt his powerful aura, so strong that it made me follow him.
~
That's how I ended up with Stray Kids. I got to learn that there were 7 other vampires in total, and Chris, being the oldest, was proclaimed the leader of the group. Everyone was in charge of something, such as: finding a good place to eat, doing background checks on people we were interested in consuming, covering up our tracks and disposing of dead bodies if necessary. Stray Kids' main morals consisted in making sure the number of dead humans was as low as possible. They really seemed to dislike killing. I didn't care too much for it, but since I decided to live with them, I had to abide by their rules as well.
I found out that it's so much more convenient to not kill a human and dispose of them. It was so much easier using a drug instead to make them fall asleep while we eat, then making it look like they got hurt by accident.
This means that we don't really bite their necks, though, much to my dismay. A bite to the arm will suffice, then we'll cover it up with a small cut to make it look like a scratch and call it a day. This way we can eat without doing much work afterwards, and if we particularly liked someone, we could just remember them and return to eat when their blood supply comes back.
~
~Faith's POV~
Fucking hell, not again.
I thought while gagging so badly, suddenly feeling the need to throw up.
"Why are humans so disgusting?" I blurted out while starting to clean up the clogged toilet, full of shit by whichever animal – because I couldn't call the thing who did this a person – wanted to ruin my night.
"Everything okay back there, Faith?" my colleague shouted from the cash register.
"No, dumbass, nothing is okay here! Why the fuck didn't you clean this up before I came?!" I shouted back. He was counting the money made on his shift to add it to the computer program we used in this small gas station and was preparing to hand over the night shift to me.
"Tsch, how the heck do you have such a holy name but such a rotten mouth?" He scoffed.
"No but for real, you always leave these messes for me to clean! What am I, your personal maid?!"
"I just didn't have time, okay?! A lot more people come here during the daytime, just so you know!"
"Yea, yea, keep telling yourself that. How much money did we make during the day then, huh? 100 bucks?"
"150!"
"That's how many people. 5?! Fucking asshole."
I hated this job, but I desperately needed money, so I came to work here, despite all the rumours I've heard about the owners going bankrupt. There are not many options in this city for doing night shifts, and my days are already filled to the brim by the other full-time job I have. If this gas station's going down, we'll see.
What I like the most about this job is the hours. I call it a "night shift" out of convenience, but I'm actually scheduled from 7 PM to 3 AM, which gives me plenty of time to go home and pass out for a few hours before my other job starts at 10 AM.
What I hate the most is – you guessed it! The fucking toilet. And this co-worker.
Just ... a bit more... I tried to give myself some courage, thinking that there is a light at the end of this hellhole.
I am moving.
As soon as I manage to pay off my debt, I'm fucking leaving this place behind and starting anew somewhere else.
Where? I don't know yet. But there's nothing for me in this stupid city. I've been living in a black hole for as long as I can remember, and I can't change anything if I stay.
Just a bit more!
~
Handing over the shift to my next co-worker, I made my way out of the gas station and inhaled the cold air outside. It was already autumn, gold and rusty leaves paving the way back to the small apartment I lived in.
The way home was not too long, but not too short either. I had to walk for about 20 minutes and pass through some sketchy neighbourhoods, but this was already a nightly occurrence at that point, so I didn't pay it much mind.
The only place that truly creeped me out, though, was the tunnel. A big bridge carrying the country's largest highway crossed over the city, and under it – this cursed space with barely any light that I had to go through every day if I wanted to reach home quicker. The other way home would mean detouring the whole bridge, which would imply more than an hour of walking. I don't have that time, nor the energy to walk so long in the dark after 2 full time jobs.
Now, again, I was in front of the tunnel, bracing myself to go through. Faint sounds could be heard from the inside, but the cars going high speed above made it difficult to listen to anything that was happening.
I took a careful step in the dark but couldn't really see anything. The only light came from the headlights of the cars above that would creep through. I was able to make out a silhouette of a man hunched over. Disgusting sounds were coming from him as he threw up all the alcohol he probably drank, judging by the bottles around him, which made me wonder if he was perhaps the same breed as the guy that shat in the gas station's bathroom earlier.
I crossed over to put some distance between me and him, but that proved itself to be just a futile attempt, as he somehow managed to stop throwing up and come to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me back forcefully.
The guy smelled so bad, I gagged, feeling a bit of vomit rising up my throat. I shoved him back and tried to walk away, but the realisation that he, a man, was more powerful than me, a woman half his size, hit me hard, as he pinned me up against the wall and started rubbing himself on my leg.
"Fuck, get off!" I shouted, trying to push him away, but he forcefully held my hands against the wall, his lips finding their way to my neck.
"N-No!" I shouted, trying to push him again to no avail. Small tears formed in the corners of my eyes, and the feeling of doom settled deep down in my stomach. I didn't know what to do.
The only thing that came to mind was as pathetic as it sounded, which was letting out a quiet "Help" and closing my eyes shut.
I summoned all my strength and managed to somehow push him away from me, but that only got him angrier. He grabbed a handful of my hair and tackled me to the ground, getting above me.
If I could get myself out of the former position, this new one was simply impossible. He was too strong.
I prayed and prayed for someone to come, but quickly lost all hope as the man easily held both my wrists with just one hand, his other roaming my body, touching my breasts, my stomach, my thighs, and my ass.
He ripped off my pants, making me wince as the cold night air brushed on my naked thighs, and then clumsily touched my panties with his dirty fingers, grunting in pleasure.
His touch made me feel so disgusted, I cried again, but there was no one there to hear me.
As his hand moved from my thigh to his growing bulge, I heard the sound of him unzipping his pants.
Fuck.
No.
Is this really happening?
I shut my eyes tighter and mouthed a yet another small "Please help me.", and just then, the man's weight suddenly disappeared from me.
~
~Jeongin's POV~
Feeling better than ever, my stomach full after the meal I shared with my brothers, I decided to go for a walk.
Night was pleasant. Daytime wasn't too bad, either. There were certain vampires who preferred the sun over the moon, like Felix, one of the guys from Stray Kids.
Then, there was Chris, or Seungmin, or I, who enjoyed the moonlight.
Again, it was simply personal preference. There's no such thing as glowing skin, burning under the sun or nonsense like that. Whoever made those stupid vampire movies didn't research at all. It's clear that they never met a real vampire.
Of course, our existence is a secret, and it's normally extremely difficult to make out a vampire in a crowd. Almost impossible if that vampire is careful. After we drink, we are stronger than ever, but we also become... very human-like. Our skin is no longer pale and cold, we are no longer firm to the touch and these effects last for at least 72 hours, when we would have to eat again. The only indication that we are different stands in our crimson red eyes, but that's also easily hidden with coloured contact lenses nowadays.
Probably the only things those movies got right would be the super strength and enhanced senses. We are able to move very quickly, and our hearing and sight are truly something impressive.
As I'm leisurely walking through the quieter parts of the city, I suddenly hear a small voice.
"Please help me."
It was a cry for help, and judging by the melody of the voice, barely audible, I assumed it was a woman.
Shrugging, I turned around and started walking in the opposite direction.
Then the voice cried again.
"No, please..."
I was able to distinguish a few grunts coming from a man, and the sound of a zipper opening. What the man was doing was disgusting, but I guess it wasn't entirely so different to what we, vampires, did. I also didn't give two shits about others' bodily autonomy.
Well, not exactly. Ever since I joined Stray Kids, Chris made it crystal clear that I'm gonna have to respect other humans, since I needed them. So, I guess that asshole of a man and I weren't that much alike, after all.
Plus, I was doing what I did to survive. He was trying to rape a girl in the middle of the night for... what? A few minutes of pleasure?
Tsch.
My legs moved without me realising, and my hands collided with the man's back, grabbing him by the shirt and shoving him away from the whimpering girl on the ground. She was half naked, but judging by the man's dick barely hanging out of his pants, I got here quickly enough, and he didn't manage to do the deed.
The girl's eyes were burning holes into me, confusion visible on her face, as she didn't seem to register what happened.
The guy tried to get up and land a punch on me, so I went behind him and grabbed him by the collar, while he whimpered in pain as he was slowly getting strangled by his own shirt.
I kept holding the man and looked at the girl, who was clearly bewildered and couldn't comprehend how exactly I was able to hold the man one meter above the ground with such ease, while he struggled in my grip.
Still holding the bastard, who started muttering curses towards me, I took advantage of the super speed and went on top of the bridge quickly, throwing him in front of a moving car.
He was dead instantly.
I went back down to the girl to check on her and see if she'd be able to keep her mouth shut about what happened, and she was still on the ground, but she managed to pull her pants back up.
~
~Faith's POV~
"You okay?" The tall man spoke nonchalantly. He returned as fast as he left, the drunkard who just assaulted me completely gone by now.
"Uhm... where... is the other guy...?" I looked around confused, not understanding what happened. It's irrational to think that any of it was logical. How the dude practically flew off me, how easily this mysterious black-haired man held him up in the air with just one hand, and how both of them disappeared for just a few seconds, before he returned alone.
None of it made sense.
"Why, love, miss him already?" he wiped his hands off on his clothes, as if he was dirty and wanted to clean himself.
"Of course not. Thank you." Was all I said, when a car suddenly hovered over us on the highway, standing in place, small screams being heard from above. The sudden light allowed me to see the tall figure more clearly, and one thing in particular caught my eye: his red eyes.
"What..." I start, but stop myself in time, as the piercing gaze this guy was giving me almost made me freeze. I felt a sudden rush in my body, my breath hitching inside my throat, my heart beating quicker than ever, and I involuntarily started trembling looking into his eyes. I didn't understand why, but my fight-or-flight response was sending alarm bells to my brain stronger than ever, and I couldn't explain it.
What was it about this guy that was making me so afraid, feeling like a little lamb in front of a wolf? He just saved me... so why? Why is my body reacting like this when I notice him trailing his crimson eyes up and down my body?
It's a different gaze than the drunkard's. This one seemed a million times more... dangerous.
"You know," he started, clicking his tongue, "it's always better to not ask any questions. To stay oblivious. It's safe." He accentuated the last word and took a sure step towards me, and even though my brain was in overdrive and the only thing I wanted to do was to run away as far as possible from this black-haired man, I stood still, continuing to look into his eyes.
I just laid there charmed by his demeanour, by his determined steps, and despite the fear, I felt more alive than ever. The saying was true. Fear doesn't shut you down, it wakes you up.
And that's what it did to me. I got up and started walking towards the man as well, wanting to take in as much as possible about him.
I was completely mesmerised by the way his fox-like red eyes watched my every move, by how angelic he looked. There was no doubt that this must've been the most attractive man I've ever seen in this city. His black hair was parted in the middle, large strands falling on his perfectly smooth forehead. His cheekbones looked like they were carved by Michelangelo himself during a passionate night of sculpting and inspiration.
I reached out a hand to touch his face, and to my surprise, he didn't even flinch. His cheek was warm. My thumb slowly brushed over his lips, that were also an interesting shade of red, it looked like the remnants of a lip tint.
"Done feeling me up, doll?" he smirked, pulling me out of my trance.
"I'm sorry." I take my hand back and get shocked by my boldness. Where did that come from?
"You should go home and forget that tonight happened. Yea?" he instructed me, sounding really convincing. His words were as sweet as caramel liquor, and I just wanted to hear them more and more, to get drunk on them.
"Will you walk me home?" I asked directly, surprising myself; even the man seemed briefly shocked by my boldness, his red eyes growing wide for just a few barely noticeable seconds.
"And why would I?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Because it's safe." I replied, feeling clever to use the same words he just spoke.
"Doll, I'm the farthest thing away from safe. Can't you see? Or rather- can't you feel it?" His face came closer, and he whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "I can hear your heart beating faster. Aren't you afraid?"
He was right. The ringing in my ears wouldn't stop, and I was in overdrive. This man felt dangerous, but the way he saved me was easily the most interesting thing that ever happened in my pathetic life. It's the first time someone saved me, and God knows how much I needed it before, when the creepy subway guy touched me under my skirt, when a drunkard followed me three streets home or when the loan shark I've borrowed so much money from to pay for my grandma's hospital bills beat me up. I needed help many times, and I asked for it, just as pathetically as I did tonight. But still, no one ever came.
No one ever heard me, until this dark-haired tall man showed up.
Maybe he was my guardian angel. Maybe all my faith was misplaced all this time.
"It's safer than going alone." I retorted weakly after trying to think of a witty reply, and failing.
"I don't know about that sweetheart. I could just be a monster in disguise and eat you as soon as we cross through the tunnel."
"Hmm. Maybe you are. Is red your natural eye colour?" I ask, way too bold once again.
"As I said, not asking questions and staying oblivious is safe, so why don't you bite your tongue?"
"Only if you take me home. Safe and sound."
"You're persistent." He grinned. "Okay. I'll take you home, but you will promise me that you'll forget about the drunkard, what happened in this tunnel and me. And you'll stop asking questions you shouldn't know the answers to."
"Fine. I promise. But can you tell me your name, at least? I'll forget it by tomorrow morning anyway." I started walking through the tunnel, surer of my steps, since it was no longer as dark. I wondered how many cars stopped above us for it to be so well lit, and I tried not to think of the drunkard that wanted to get a feel of me when several sirens could be heard from the highway.
I was sure that whatever happened to him, happened up above, and judging by the number of sirens, I would find out from the morning papers.
I'm not so sure I wanted to know, though.
"It's Jeongin. What's yours?"
Jeongin. A really old name.
I tried once again to stop thinking. Maybe it's as he said. Not knowing is better. It's safer.
But do I want safety, or do I want to feel something for once?
"Faith."
"Pfft." He burst out laughing. "Faith? So ironic."
"Why?"
"Who're you gonna have faith in? Now you have to tell me you believe in God."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Did God save you tonight? Whichever God you've prayed to. Did he listen to your prayers, ever?"
"Jeongin..." His name lingered on my lips for a little while. "You are... how I will pray from now on." I glanced at him with a serious look in my eyes, as we exited the tunnel.
"I'm no God."
"Maybe... But you are mine, for you answered my prayers, didn't you?"
"I just happened to be around to hear them." He shrugged, and I dropped it.
The walk home was filled with silence, as both of us leisurely made our way towards the old, run-down apartment building I live in. As soon as I announced that we arrived, Jeongin disappeared without a trace, and I didn't see him again.
~
~Six months later~
~Faith's POV~
40.000$.
That's how much I borrowed to pay for my grandmother's hospital bills. Lung cancer was a horrible diagnosis to receive at her old age, but what was I supposed to do? Simply give up on her? She's the one who raised me.
The doctors weren't optimistic, and suggested many times in good faith that we should stop treatment, stop forcing her to fight. The treatment was expensive, the chemotherapy reaching up to as much as 7000$ per month, excluding the additional cost of her having a bed in a shared crappy room at our state hospital. She was hospitalised for a total of 8 months, 6 of which included chemo. It's easy to say that the cost wound up eating away at me, putting me in a dilemma: let my grandmother go, or get money somehow?
I've been working since 13 doing all sorts of odd jobs just to keep us afloat, as my grandma hasn't been able to work due to her sickness in a long time. I even managed to save up some money, a few pretty thousands, but everything I've saved up was gone the first 2 months of her hospital stay, so the only thing I could do was borrow money. However, no bank wanted to loan anything to me, an 18-year-old high school dropout with no consistent job.
I was desperate. I didn't know what to do or who to turn to. We had no one, and with my grandma sick, I was completely on my own. I resorted to associating with bad crowds, and ended up finally meeting a loan shark that was willing to lend me as much as I asked for monthly, which was only my grandma's bills that I couldn't cover from my two jobs. I skipped eating entirely only to be able to pay him back the monthly fare we agreed upon once my grandma passed away, and I became frail. The only times I could eat were when something was left over from the gas station's pastry, or when I could get a 90% discounted product at the supermarket for something that was soon to expire.
In retrospect, I made the wrong choices. My grandma suffered badly, the chemo only made her weaker, the meds made her dizzy and sick, and by the end she became a shell of herself. I should've let her go peacefully, and I shouldn't have borrowed any money.
But I did. 40.000$, with interest 60.000$.
And the 2 jobs I had – now only one, ever since the gas station closed down – barely paid for my rent of the crappy one-room in the old, run-down apartment building and the loan.
Scraping by, trying to find another job I could work night shifts in, I kept agonising.
Just a bit more!
I tried to tell myself again, but who was I trying to fool? How many years would I need to lie to myself like this? How many years have I already lied?
My train of thoughts was interrupted when the door of my apartment opened up forcefully.
I stood up and glanced at the two masked men walking through the door like they owned the place.
"You turned off your phone." One voice spoke, and I quickly realised it was the loan shark. "And you paid me too little last month. Trying to run away from your responsibilities?" He came threateningly in front of me and slapped my left cheek with force. I felt the iron taste of blood inside my mouth, but I didn't cry out in pain.
"I didn't turn off my phone." I tried defending myself. "It broke down and I didn't have money to replace it. And I paid you a little bit less because I lost one of my jobs, but I will make it up to you as soon as I get hired again."
"And when's that? Fucking bitch." He raised his hand again, making me wince in anticipation.
"I- I don't know." I stuttered. "I've been trying to find something, but-"
"I know, Boss. Why don't we hire her at the new place? She's not that ugly, I bet she could bring in banks." The other masked man spoke. I didn't like the sound of it.
"Great idea. You're gonna start working tonight at the new club opened on Fable street."
"Wait-" I raised my hands in the air trying to get his attention. "I don't- I can't- I'm not a prostitute!" I shouted, trying to explain somehow and make him understand that I don't want to take this job no matter what.
"You won't sleep with anyone. You're just going to play hostess and serve drinks, make sure customers are happy. That's all." The loan shark shrugged as if it was nothing. As if I was so naïve, I couldn't tell that he was lying. There was no just playing hostess and serving drinks. Things didn't work like that in the real world, and I hated the idea of doing that kind of job, selling my body to strange men – I wanted to avoid clubs all together.
"But-" I started, before getting quickly cut off.
"Tonight, 10 PM, Fable Street 142. Dress up nicely, a short skirt would be preferable, and put some ice on that cheek, otherwise you'll bruise, and no customer will want to look at that ugly face. Oh, and you'd better be there, unless you want me to fucking kill you, or even better, sell you off to get my money back."
Bastard.
~
Even though I put ice on my swollen cheek, the bruise still started to form, and I didn't have any make-up to cover it up.
In terms of clothes, my wardrobe was also scarce. However, I managed to find a short black skirt that was hugging my thighs a bit too tight for my liking, and that was barely covering up my bum. I grabbed a sort-of matching low crop black shirt, and looking at myself in the mirror, I felt like a slut.
The only thing covering up my body was a big winter coat that I hugged around me as tightly as I could while I made my way on the dark streets to Fable 142. Indeed, a new club opened here. Glancing around, the only neighbours would be whoever lived in the house on Fable 143 – if there was even someone living there, for the place looked pretty abandoned – so poor them, because it was sure that this club, like all the others run by this loan shark, would be noisy as hell.
I entered the club and made my way towards the bar, where the loan shark sipped lazily on some whiskey.
"Look at you, you're presentable at least. But your cheek is bruising up, didn't you listen to me?"
"I did." I replied drily.
"I must've hit you too hard. It's not like you didn't deserve it, so whatever." He shrugged. "Take off the coat and start serving, the bartender will let you know which tables need which drinks."
~
~Jeongin's POV~
"Yo, Chris, wanna come with across the street? A new club opened up. Maybe we'll find some food." Minho smirked evilly.
"Nah, I'm good. Not hungry at the moment." Chris shrugged and continued reading whatever book he was holding.
"Seungmin? Jisung? Jeongin?" Minho continued asking around the room.
"I'd like to go." Felix replied.
"Hmm, me too. I do feel a bit hungry." Jisung got up from the sofa and tossed aside the remote control of the TV in the living room.
"Fine, I'll come too, if y'all are going." I stood up as well, and the four of us made our way vis-à-vis.
~
The club was loud, and the smell of smoke was intoxicating. We quickly found an empty table and Minho ordered a few bottles of expensive rum, whiskey and champagne, before starting to look around the room hungrily, hunting for tonight's unlucky victim.
I looked around the room as well and noticed how full the circular tables with leather sofas around them were, and then something caught my eye. Or rather – someone.
Faith was wearing a short, indecent black skirt with a top just as small. She presented a Dom Perignon champagne bottle to the men around the table directly in front of us, and they urged her to sit down next to them and pour the angel's tears in their glasses.
She seemed uncomfortable.
One of the men was getting touchy with her, his hand brushing over her naked thigh, and with each of his touches, her expression would grow even more cramped. Her whole body looked stiff, and I couldn't believe how no one cared for her comfort. But men will be men, and the only thing they cared about in this state – drunk, totally intoxicated – was getting to touch a pretty woman everywhere, and releasing themselves, preferably inside of her.
Why is she here?
After our encounter 6 months ago, I don't know what was wrong with me. I grew some sort of infatuation towards her, and I kept watching her more often from the shadows. I found out she's living a chaotic, sad life, working two jobs seemingly to support herself, all the money going God knows where. I never showed myself in front of her again, though, because what good would it do?
But strangely enough, I was curious to see how this small human navigated her day-to-day life, and I knew her gas station and cashier jobs' schedule by heart. I even remembered her name, which was another first. I never cared to remember any names before. And even more than that, it was the first time I wasn't interested in her blood, but rather in herself, but I didn't want to do anything with this curiosity, so I stopped following her around about a month ago.
She's just a pathetic human. I would tell myself. And she's going to die anyway.
So why was I now feeling so much discomfort, seeing the man try to move his fingers up her skirt?
Why is she here? Why isn't she at the gas station?
She suddenly got up and bowed shortly, before leaving the room and basically running to the bathroom. The man seemed persistent, however, and got up, going after her, and my feet once more moved without my will, towards them.
The man grabbed Faith by the hand and spun her around, grabbing her behind with his free hand and lifting up her short skirt. She protested and tried pushing him away, but before she got the chance to, I grabbed the man by his collar and threw him on the ground. One glance at him made all the annoyance in his gaze disappear, getting replaced by fear. He stood up and walked away, leaving me and Faith on the small corridor.
As soon as she saw me, her eyes went wide, in a similar fashion to the night we met.
"Jeongin." She breathed, my name sounding sweet on her lips.
I got closer to her and replaced the man's position, letting her skirt back down instead of lifting it up. I put my face closer to hers, and breathed in her perfume-less, natural scent, which was so sugary, it almost drove me crazy. This night I was hungry. I kissed her neck slowly and tried to fight all urges inside of me to not bite her then and there, and I was expecting to hear her complaining of my actions, but instead, she rolled her head back against the wall, giving me more access to her bare neck.
"Back again in danger's lap?" I whispered, feeling the way her body reacted to my words, how she crumbled in front of me.
"You helped me again." Her hands found their way to my waist, and she held on tightly.
"What are you doing here, Faith? This is not you." I trailed my hands down her body, touching the small of her waist, before trailing down to her hips, to her naked thighs, my lips still dangerously close to her neck. Oh, how I wanted to sink my teeth in her soft skin and taste her.
"I didn't have a choice." Her hands also moved from my waist, upwards towards the back of my shoulders, and she pulled me in closer.
"Do you want to bite me?" She asked seductively, making my breath hitch in my throat. Of course, I didn't actually need to breathe, but I learnt to do so naturally so as to seem more human-like.
"Why would you ask that?"
"I've been thinking about you. A lot. And I figured it out." She whispered.
If I had a beating heart, I was sure it would've beat harder than ever right now. Or stopped. Either or.
"What have you figured out?" I asked.
"What you are."
"What am I?"
"A vampire." She whispered again, slowly, the words rolling off her tongue.
"Bullshit. Vampires don't exist." I smirked.
"You exist, though."
"So you made out I'm no God, then?" I grinned again.
"I told you, Jeongin. When I'm down on my knees, you're how I pray. You can be anything, and I wouldn't care."
Fuck, how badly I wanted this human girl to be mine. To have her completely for myself and learn everything about her, to drink her blood whenever I please and to fuck her senseless – first time I've ever felt this urge, a new feeling rising up inside of my chest, making the shirt on me feel too tight.
"Faith, stop working at this place. Don't let any degenerate touch you." I whisper while slowly kissing her neck again, the small moans from her lips intoxicating me more than anyone else's blood ever could.
"I need money."
I raised my head and examined her face closely, and that's when I noticed a dark patch on her left cheek.
"Who did this to you?" I touched her cheek softly, seeing her wince in pain.
"The same bastard I've borrowed money from. I couldn't pay back this month's share fully, so he hit me, then brought me here."
"How much do you need?"
"25.000$ more"
"Ouch. Why don't you show me the unlucky bastard who hit you, pretty?"
"Why? What good would it do?"
"To pay him back, of course." I smiled innocently, thinking of all the ways I was going to fuck up the idiot's face.
I raised my head and looked down into Faith's eyes, surprised to see no more fear in them. Instead, something else seemed to glimmer – curiosity, perhaps. I resumed my initial position in the crook of her neck.
"It's the owner of this club."
"Got involved with a bad gang, pretty?"
"I did. And now I'm paying the price." She shrugged. It felt like we were having a talk while drinking a morning coffee, not something as serious as this. It was quite ironic, considering our proximity. My lips were still latched to her skin, stealing small moans with each few seconds of silence between us, and her arms were still pulling me closer, hands on the back of my shoulders.
"I'll clear it up for you, if you promise me you'll live better." I distanced myself from her again, afraid that I would really sink my teeth in her. I wasn't sure if she would want me to, and Chris' words to respect humans' autonomy echoed through my head. It was shocking, really, to truly care about her autonomy, and no one else's.
"What do you know about how I've been living?" She raised an eyebrow, grabbing the collar of my shirt and holding it tightly. I let her do whatever she wanted. That's the privilege of my interest in her. "And if you help me, will you just disappear again?"
"I don't know. Probably. You don't need me hanging over your head."
"I want you, though." She replied bluntly. "You see, Jeongin... playing with death seems to be the only thing that makes me feel alive."
I was baffled. The burning in her eyes made it impossible to look away from her. It was like there was something unspoken between us, a connection I couldn't back away from, and I once again wondered what it was about this mortal girl that made me feel this way.
I forgot that I, too, used to be mortal. I haven't always been a blood thirsty vampire, and I haven't always longed for human's very essence.
Looking into her eyes, though, I remembered, and it came down on me like a wave crashing against the shore. I used to have this burning in my eyes too, and I used to want to live, as I was rotting away in a hospital bed a few hundred years ago.
"Will you offer to me just like that, Faith? Will you come with me? Will you continue praying to me, no matter what I'll do to you?" I asked her in such a low voice, it almost came up as a whisper, barely audible in the club's uproar.
The corners of her mouth lifted up in a mischievous smile, before she pulled on my collar and made our lips collide.
~
~Faith's POV~
I must be crazy.
No sane person would do what I've done.
Jeongin was walking leisurely in front of me, his right arm stretched backwards to hold my hand firmly.
The realisation that I was following a vampire God knows were at 3 AM after just kissing him sunk into the bottom pit of my stomach, and I started feeling very dizzy. It was surely the lack of sleep that made me feel this way. How many hours have I been awake for?
"How old are you? How did you become a vampire?" I asked, trying to steer away from the tightness of my chest.
"Someone turned me when I was 21. Many, many years ago."
"Who? Why?"
"I don't know. I can't remember his face. I was sick, on the verge of death. I probably had something that doctors would call an autoimmune disease nowadays. It wasn't much known of medicine back then, though, so I can't be sure. Then I got pneumonia, and I knew I was done for."
"Fuck, so you've been sick your whole life?"
"Yes. Couldn't really get out of bed much. I remember my mother's face when she took me outside in the sun, on the rare occasions she had enough time to. I had 6 other siblings, so she was a busy woman."
The fact that he was answering my questions without any complaints made me feel more at ease, making the knot in my stomach slowly disappear.
"Really? What happened to them?"
"They all knew I died, and since the form of pneumonia I had was contagious, there was no open casket. It was easy enough to fool them into thinking someone was in there, buried in the ground. I continued helping them out and left money from time to time, but they never saw me again."
"That's sad. Weren't you lonely?"
~Jeongin's POV~
"That's sad. Weren't you lonely?" Faith asked, a pitiful look in her eyes.
"Well, why would you want to be alone? Doesn't it get lonely?" Chris' words echoed inside my head, making me close my eyes.
Why does everyone assume I've been lonely?
And why does it feel like they are right?
"I don't know." I replied truthfully, feeling her hold my hand tighter.
"I am lonely." Faith continued, looking ahead. We weren't going anywhere in particular. I just wanted to get her out of the club and walk somewhere with her. Being in her proximity was not healthy for her, she would for sure end up bitten with the hunger growing in my body.
I don't want to bite her, though, or to taste her blood.
I don't think I would be able to stop if I did.
"I borrowed money to pay for my grandma's hospital bills. She was really sick, and then she died. It was all in vain. That's why I work two jobs now, to pay everything back."
"Hmm. I see. Which reminds me, why weren't you at the gas station?"
"How do you know I've worked there?" She raised an eyebrow.
Fuck.
"I followed you around for a bit, after we first met."
"No way! And you didn't meet me even once?!" She pouted. "I wanted to see you again so badly, Jeongin!"
"Didn't you promise me you'd forget about everything?" I raised my eyebrow playfully as well.
"I lied." She grinned. "The gas station shut down. The owners went bankrupt."
"Oh, that sucks."
"Indeed. That's why I'm apparently a part time hostess, part time prostitute at the new club."
"Nah, you won't go back there."
"I won't?" She asked, surprised.
"You won't."
"Jeongin, I..." she started speaking, her voice trembling. "I don't feel so good..."
"Why, what's wrong?" I turned around just in time to see her knees giving out.
She would've definitely fell, if I weren't there to catch her.
~
~Faith's POV~
Huh?
What... happened...?
I opened my eyes to see the curtains of an unfamiliar room, my head pounding with pain.
"Hello." A voice I didn't recognize sang next to my bed. I turned my head to see a man leisurely reading a book, his legs crossed. "Slept well?"
"Who... uhm... where am I?" I stumbled on my words and looked straight into the man's eyes, noticing a familiar crimson pigment in his irises.
"This would be Jeongin's room." The man replied, closing the book and meeting my gaze.
"Oh."
"And I am Chris, he asked me to look after you until he returns."
"Where did he go?"
"To eat."
"Oh."
Chris was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. His jaw was so sharp, I was certain it could cut through glass, and there was just something about him... emanating confidence, making you unable to look away.
"Will he be gone long?" I asked the man, noticing him shrug a bit.
"I'm not sure. I assume you're hungry as well? We bought you something earlier, hopefully you'll like it."
"Uhm... Chris?" I start, unsure, holding the duvet closer to my chest. I cursed myself for having worn such inappropriate clothes last night to the club. "Do you perhaps have... uhm... a change of clothes?"
"It's okay sweetie, we aren't that desperate to bite you just after seeing some skin. Most of us aren't, anyway."
Well, that surely is assuring.
"I am the one uncomfortable, though..." I grimaced. "Not because of you. It's just... not my usual style."
"Hmm, I guess you could borrow something from Jeongin's closet if you want."
"He's so tall, though."
"Changbin?" Chris said, as if the person he wanted to talk to was in the room. I was shocked to see the door open not even 2 seconds later.
"You asked for me?" A black-haired man walked inside. "Hey." He waved at me, acknowledging my presence. He seemed excited to be here, and he was smiling at me way too eagerly.
"Yea, can you bring some pants for Faith? Jeongin's clothes are too large."
"Sure. Or I could go buy something real quick. What size are you, Faith?"
"Uhm... I'm not sure? Probably S or M?" I reply with a shrug. I haven't bought clothes in forever, so I really didn't know.
"Mkay, be right back." Changbin left as quickly as he came.
"Wanna wait for him, or should we go down for you to eat?"
"We can wait..."
"Sure, whichever makes you more comfortable."
"Chris?"
"Hm?"
"Are you okay with me knowing about...?" I hesitated.
"About what?" He raised an eyebrow as if he was daring me to keep talking.
"About the fact that you are... vampires?" I gulped, noticing the small twitch of his mouth.
"I don't have much choice. Each of us has an obsession, and we can't help it. You're Jeongin's."
Huh?
I blushed uncontrollably.
"So, what's yours?"
Chan chuckled. "Mine? Hard to say. Haven't found it yet."
"It?" I asked a bit offended. "Is that how you generally refer to people? Like they're objects?"
"What? No." He shook his head. "You misunderstood. Each of us has... their own thing they are extremely obsessed with for no particular reason. Think of it like this: what you specifically like as a human being gets amplified 1000%. Imagine your favourite thing in the world is Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream. If you become a vampire, you don't simply enjoy eating that the most. You are so obsessed with it, you would literally be almost unable to live without the thing."
"Oh, I assumed it would be... a person. Sorry."
"No, not necessarily. No worries." He waved his hand around in the air.
"So what other... obsessions do you guys have?"
"Well, the man you just met earlier-"
"I'm back!" Changbin burst through the door, startling me and making Chan chuckle.
"He can answer that himself." Chan grinned.
"Answer what?" Changbin raised an eyebrow, still supporting multiple shopping bags on his arms.
"Your obsession." I clarified, feeling that Chan was having a bit too much fun making me look like a curious idiot who wasn't able to ask things themselves.
"Oh, can't you figure it out?" Changbin smirked, dropping all bags on the floor and starting to flex his muscles.
Chan started clapping with a loud laugh, as if impressed by his friends' show.
I smiled with content and asked what's in the shopping bags. Changbin seemed kind of dejected that I didn't pay more attention to his muscles. I couldn't lie, he was attractive as fuck, but I got my eye on someone else already, so...
"Why did you buy so little? She's gonna need a lot more." Chan scolded Changbin as I examined the pants he brought back with him. I found out he brought me a few clothes, so I'd have a selection to choose from, and even if Chan thought it's not much, it was more than my whole wardrobe back home.
"You know how peculiar I.N is about style! It's best if she just goes shopping with him directly." Changbin whined.
"Who's peculiar about style?" Jeongin entered the room, seeing him in the daylight was a cultural reset. He was the most beautiful man who ever walked the earth, and I was grateful to finally be able to examine him clearly under good lighting. The same red eyes, crimson stained lush lips and prominent cheekbones brought me a sense of familiarity and I felt safe.
"No one, no one! Anyways, I'm gonna let you to it." Changbin excused himself, and Chan followed soon after.
"I'd say go with this blouse if you like those pants." Jeongin commented, seeing me be indecisive. Having little clothes to pick from would've been way easier.
"Thanks. How was the meal?" I asked him, genuinely curious. It would be a lie to say I was not interested in how vampires live, now that I found out for sure that they are real.
"Wh-what?" He stuttered. "Why would you want to... know that?"
"I mean... no reason in particular. I just want to know things about you, I guess?" I stumbled on my words as well, not expecting Jeongin to grow shy.
"It was... good, I guess? Could've been better."
"Oh. Uhm... do people... taste differently?"
"... Yea, they do."
"That's insane. Do you think I-"
"Did you eat breakfast?" Jeongin cut me off, and seeing the tip of his ears grow as red as his lips, I decided to drop it for now.
However, I was really curious to know what my blood tasted like. This was a weird new oddity of mine.
"No, not yet."
"You should, so let's go downstairs, what do you say?"
We both made our way to the kitchen where another red-haired vampire I didn't recognise was cutting up all sorts of vegetables. He quickly shifted his attention to the pan of the stove where two eggs were slowly getting cooked, sunny side up.
"Morning." He smiled briefly and waved. "I'm Minho, the guy in charge of your meals from now on."
"Hi, thank you. I'm Faith. Wait- from now on?" I turned and glanced at Jeongin.
"We were thinking that it would be best if you started living with us, so-"
"We're trying to be accommodating." Minho cut him off.
"Uhm, okay..." I looked again at Jeongin, unsure, then sat down at the table and watched as Minho placed a plate in front of me.
"I don't remember when I last ate breakfast." I mumbled, and Minho hummed, then sat down in front of me, elbows on the table and head in his hands, and looked at me expectantly. Jeongin also sat down next to me and started speaking.
"So, Faith, about that loan shark..."
"Yea?" I turned my head to him, but Minho was growing impatient, so he leaned over the table and moved the plate towards me. The gesture caught me off guard, making me chuckle slightly. I got the memo and took some bread, swirling it in the egg yolk, then brought it to my mouth to eat.
"I killed him." Jeongin said, as if it was the most usual thing in the world. I, caught off guard once again, for entirely different reasons this time, choked on the bread and started coughing. Minho gave me a glass of water, and I gulped it down.
"You what?" I asked after I collected myself.
"I killed him." Jeongin shrugged again.
"Oh." Was all I could say in return. What was I supposed to answer anyway? They probably kill people on the daily basis to eat, so-
"Oh my." Minho shook his head. "Bad, I.N, bad. When's the last time you killed someone?"
"70 years ago...?" Jeongin tilted his head, unbothered. "Although I killed two ever since meeting Faith."
"Tsk. Bad influence. What did the unlucky dudes do?" Minho chuckled.
"The first one tried to assault Faith, and the second one hit her."
"Mhm." Minho nodded.
70 years ago...?
"Don't you normally kill people when you suck their blood?" I asked bluntly, the two men's heads turning at me.
"No." Minho replied with a gentle smile. "We are a bit... conservative, in this regard. We let them live."
"Really? But... if you bite them and let them live, wouldn't they turn into vampires?" I asked, confused.
"What, do you think we're zombies or some shit? That it's transmissible like a virus?" Jeongin chuckled.
"I mean, it would make sense." I shrugged.
"No." Jeongin replied with a slight laugh.
"If people don't turn after getting bitten... how do they turn?"
"That's the first step, but it's not enough. A bite would make you feel sick for a few days at most, then you'd be back to normal." Minho clarified.
We continued chatting for a while, and it was such a weird feeling, sitting at the kitchen table talking sweet nothings in the morning, as if I've always been with them, as if we've known each other forever and shared food at breakfast every morning.
~
After six months of living with Stray Kids – as I learnt that that's what they were calling themselves – the feeling that I was home continued to grow in my chest.
It was certainly an unusual situation, living among vampires while my heart kept pumping blood, but seeing that all the other vampires in the house seemed to care for my comfort – at least out of respect for Jeongin – and didn't want to hunt me down or eat me or anything was pretty relieving. Even our bonds became stronger, and I was sure some of them considered me genuinely pleasant to be around, if not a friend. Felix and I would play games daily, Lee Know taught me how to cook simple meals, Seungmin taught me photography, Changbin would sometimes take me to the gym to get in shape, Han and I would sing songs together – even if his voice was angelic and mine was the opposite of that, Hyunjin and I would paint together, I would read and discuss books with Chan, and Jeongin...
Jeongin was, to me, the most important person in the world.
My feelings for him just grew and grew and grew and they were so big I was sure they were going to swallow me eventually. I also knew he felt something for me too, just from the way he cared for me. He treated me like I was a precious porcelain doll – with care and consideration. At night, he would hold me in his arms until I fell asleep, and he wouldn't leave my side even afterwards, even if he wouldn't be sleeping. He said it's enough just to hear me breathing, knowing I'm happy, and safe.
We haven't kissed again since that night in the club 6 months ago, which hurt. I wanted Jeongin in all ways. I wanted to be his, I wanted him to capture my lips and fuck me and bite me without thinking of any repercussions.
I wanted him to turn me into a vampire.
~
Tonight, just as usual, we were laying in bed, Jeongin was waiting for me to sleep. My head was on his shoulder, and my fingers were tracing the shape of his neck.
He was warm to the touch, and soft, which indicated to me that he must've eaten today, or yesterday.
Watching his neck in the soft moonlight, my fingers touched two scarred spots on his skin.
"Jeongin...?" I started.
"Hm?"
"These spots here... is this where you were bitten?"
"Yes."
"When you were turned?"
"Yea."
"Do you remember... how it happened?"
"Not much.... I told you before... I was a sickly child, and on my deathbed, a man visited me. I don't remember what he looked like, and I don't know why he did it, but... he decided I should live, so he bit my neck."
"But you said biting someone is not enough to turn them." I raised my head to look him in the eyes.
"Because it's not. There is still... something else you have to do to become a vampire."
"What is it?"
"You must drink a vampire's blood."
"Oh... how did you... do it?"
"The man cut his hand, and I felt a warm liquid getting poured in my mouth... his blood." Jeongin looked at me, trying to grasp my reaction. When there was none, he asked. "Aren't you shocked, Faith?"
"Why would I be? No... I'm actually... glad."
"Glad?" He chuckled. "Why?"
"Because thanks to that man, I got to meet you."
"I'm also glad we met, Faith." He cupped my cheek with his hand, and we looked at each other for a little while.
"Jeongin, I feel like you made me wait enough..." I said, and pressed my lips against him, as his hands moved on my waist and pulled me in his lap.
"I didn't mean to. It's just... it's hard to control myself around you sometimes, when all I want to do is sink my teeth in your neck and taste you."
I leaned in next to his ear and whispered, "Do it.", and I felt his grip on my waist tighten.
"What if... I wouldn't be able to stop...?" He looked into my eyes, seriousness laced into his glance.
"I don't care." I shook my head. "I love you, and I want you to have me in every possible way. Please. I want to be with you forever. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I feel happiest when you're around."
"I feel the same way." He smiled, cupping my cheek once again and raising his head to meet mine, pecking my lips.
"Can't you... drink from me, at least once, and... turn me?"
"Faith... I don't know if that's the best thing for you... I don't even know if loving me is right."
"Yet I do. But why... are you saying this?"
"Because of who I am." He smiled sadly. "I have a horrible past, and you certainly deserve better."
"I would take on the whole world for you, Jeongin. I thought you knew that..."
"Before deciding on anything... I must confess all my sins. If, after hearing about my past, you are still sure you want me... then Faith, I will do whatever you want me to do. I will submit to you wholly."
Jeongin started telling me about his early childhood, about his brothers and sisters, and his fond memories of them. He told me about turning into a vampire, how painful it was, how hungry he woke up, how he couldn't recognise himself anymore, as soon as he turned. He told me about his early vampire days, about the people he mercilessly murdered just for his own entertainment, about how he met Chris and the others, and how he got here.
He spoke for a long time, and I just listened, my head pressed against his chest, where normally a beating heart should keep him alive. There was no beating coming from his chest, though. Jeongin was dead, and I was alive, and it was hard to grasp, still.
After he finished talking, he changed our positions, making me lay down while his head laid on my chest this time.
"Your heart beats nicely..." he spoke softly, his ear pressed against me, listening closely to my unruly heart. After everything he told me, a normal person would've been scared, repulsed, even. But I...?
I now understood what made Jeongin himself, and I loved him even more now.
"Faith... don't you want children? A family? Growing old with someone you love? If you continue to pick me, you won't be able to have any of those things..."
"I don't need any of that." I replied truthfully. "As long as I have you..."
"I am a monster, and you want me?" He chuckled. I caressed his hair.
"You are not a monster. You are my everything. I am not religious, but... I told you before. You are the closest thing to God I'll ever encounter in this life, and the fact that we met... must've been fate, don't you think?"
"If I'm your God... you are my Faith." Jeongin spoke, then pulled down my blouse and kissed my chest softly. He moved upwards and kissed his way from my collarbones to my neck. He sucked a few marks on it, his sloppy, wet kisses making me moan, and after a few seconds, a stinging pain made me wince, and I grabbed his back for support. I felt his teeth sink deep in my neck, as he sucked my blood slowly, and my whole body stiffed in place from the pain.
"Shh." He whispered, taking out his fangs and kissing the sore spot. "You did well." He praised me, continuing to kiss my neck.
"How... was it?" I asked, trying to hold back tears. It hurt, but there was something erotic about the way he bit me and kept kissing me, and I felt my core aching for some friction, for any sort of contact between our bodies.
Jeongin must've known it too, for he pressed his crotch against mine, making me moan as his hard cock pressed against my pussy.
"The best blood I've ever tasted. Fuck, you taste so good, Faith. I want to bite you again." He said, and without missing a beat, his lips latched to my chest, just above my breast, and his teeth sank in my skin once again. Another sharp pain awoke my senses, and I rolled my head back, trying to relax.
Jeongin's left hand trailed on my body, cupping my right breast slightly, then touching the hem of my pants and underwear, taking them down in a swift motion. His thumb started working on my nub, his teeth still in me, and I spread my legs open for him, giving him full access.
The next time he moved his mouth, he brought it against mine, and kissed me, parting my lips with his tongue. I opened my mouth and let our tongues play, and the first thing I felt was the salty, metallic taste on his tongue. I was tasting my own blood in his mouth, and I moaned once again. I was already a wet mess, ready for him to take me however he wanted.
He once again seemed to know, as he took off his pants quickly and positioned himself between my legs, his dick touching my entrance. He pushed in, continuing to kiss me, and when he bottomed out, I saw stars.
A few thrusts in and he established a quick rhythm, hitting all the right places as I clenched around him. The sounds coming from my lips were obscene, but muffled by his mouth as he fucked himself into me.
"Fucking hell, Faith, this is just too good." He praised me again and again.
"This is not hell... it's heaven." I replied, through hurried breaths, feeling myself almost get over the edge. "I'm so close." I cried out, and as soon as I said that, Jeongin moved from my lips to my neck, on the other side that was still unmarked.
He pushed his dick in and out of me harshly, grazing my G spot over and over, and I felt my orgasm take over all my senses, making me see stars, moment when Jeongin's teeth marked my skin once more, biting me and drawing blood for him to drink.
The combination between pleasure and pain was euphoric, and I felt myself get dizzier and dizzier, completely fucked up.
"You're the best." Jeongin spoke, his own orgasm coming quickly enough as his warm seed released inside of me. He kissed my lips again, and then plopped down next to me.
I turned around to face him, when he bit his own wrist, blood dripping on the covers.
"Faith... the ultimate decision is yours. You can stay human, and I will love and cherish you until the end of your life, or... you could join me in this deathless life. Now, next time, or never. Whatever you choose, and whenever you're ready to choose, I will be happy to stay by your side regardless."
"Are you proposing to me after just one night together?" I joked, and Jeongin smiled kindly.
He put his wrist close to my head and I grabbed his arm, looking into his eyes. The choice was obvious, and I was determined, so I licked a long stripe of blood from his elbow until the bite, and I closed my eyes.
The taste was similar to when we kissed earlier, metallic and salty, only slightly different, as it was now not only my blood I was tasting, but his as well, and I found it so beautiful, knowing the same blood would flow through both our bodies.
I latched my mouth against the bite and closed my eyes shut, forcing myself to drink Jeongin's blood, even if the taste was making me nauseous.
He petted my hair gently, and after a few long seconds, my chest started throbbing with pain and I felt myself suffocating for air.
The pain was like nothing I've ever experienced before, not even when that loan shark would hit me and I would bruise for weeks on end. My whole body burned so badly, like it was on fire. My head hurt and I couldn't understand anything around me. All I could feel was the excruciating pain as Jeongin's blood travelled through me, changing every part I once held familiar, transforming it into something new, something different.
Jeongin took me in his arms against his chest, and held me tight as I was going through agony. I held onto him tight as well. It felt like the only one who could keep me anchored through this was him, so I snuggled closer to him and tried to breathe the pain away while he whispered kind words in my ears that I couldn't even hear well, let alone comprehend.
A few minutes later, my eyes grew heavy, and the world went blank.
~
The next morning, I woke up, still in Jeongin's arms. He was looking at me expectedly. Hunger pangs overcame me completely, and I felt myself unable to stay still.
"Faith..." he started, looking right into my eyes.
"Did it work...?" I asked him, and he chuckled.
"Red eyes suit you. How are you feeling?"
"I'm so, so hungry..." I replied truthfully, and he smiled.
"I'll teach you how we hunt."
"I can't believe I'm a vampire..." I said, snuggling myself closer to Jeongin. He took my face in his hands and kissed me, and my senses were on overdrive. I felt everything amplified a thousand times. Is this what Chan meant about the obsession? Was Jeongin mine, as I was his?
"I'm happy you chose to be with me forever, Faith."
"You also chose me. Thank you for that, Jeongin. I love you. Truly."
"I love you too. Should we go downstairs?"
We stood up and my body felt foreign. I had more strength than ever, and with just a glance outside, I could hear each individual bird singing in trees as far away as the eyes could reach. I was able to hear people's voices that I couldn't even see, listen to their conversations, I could smell the smoke I saw coming from the chimneys in the distance, and each and all my senses were intensified.
We made our way downstairs and the only ones in the kitchen were Chan and Minho.
"Good morning." Chan smiled. "Faith, you... you're different."
"Yes. I feel different, too..."
"I love your new smell. It's no longer... appetising." Minho smirked.
"Welcome to our family." Chan came next to me and took me in his arms, hugging me tight.
"How didn't any of you bite me until now?" I asked. "I feel so hungry and I smell someone like 10 houses over and the only thing I want to do is go and fucking snap their neck and drink their blood."
"You'll learn to control it, eventually." Chan assured me.
"Yea. It's all about self-control, missy." Minho replied, and I playfully slapped his arm.
~
It's been more than three years since I've been with Stray Kids, and life, as I once knew it, is now completely different. Or should I say death?
My heart stopped beating three years ago, and with it, the need for normal food, water, oxygen and any other things that make humans... human. The only craving I have now is blood, but after a lot of practice, I can now hunt by myself without needing someone else to help me not lose control. I learnt how to pick my prey and how much I can drink from someone without messing up their whole week.
My bond with Stray Kinds only strengthened with time. They are the family I never had, and the love we have for each other transcended even life and death.
It's funny, really. All these years, I tried so desperately hard to believe that the light at the end of the tunnel is not a train, that it wouldn't end up crushing me under its weight. I wanted so hard to believe that life could be different, that things will change. Now, I know that the light at the end of the tunnel has been and will always be Jeongin, who is my love, my sun, my everything, whom I love unconditionally, who made my heart beat even after it stopped beating, who took my breath away even after I stopped breathing. He is my religion, and I am his Faith.
My days are, for the first time ever since I was born, peaceful, tranquil, and the thought that there will only be serene days from now on, next to Jeongin, my husband, and our family, all the vampires in Stray Kids, is the most beautiful thing in the world.
~The End~ 
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You're 17, you haven't seen much and you don't understand many things yet. Hatred of males is in no way like the woman-hating men have embraced for millennia. It is purely defensive, it's fair. Even marginalized men in their struggles find time and circumstances to be misogynists. Privileged or not, all males agree that women are subhuman. Even your own father, who was unfortunate to have a shitty mother, absolutely engaged in some sort of everyday woman-hating. It's ingrained in them, misogyny is expected from males before they are even aware of their own existence, just like women are expected to be furniture and tools as soon as they are out of the womb. You may perceive this as absurd, but it's the truth and sooner or later it's going to pull your feet. It's life.
My dad raised me with respect and never imposed strict gender roles onto me. He is a good man and I believe he is the kind of man every man should strive to be. I wish to be just like him. I want to go to university just like him. He drives me to therapy and supports me when I'm at my lowest. He's the best fucking father I could ever ask for!
He respects and loves my mother. They have one of the happiest marriages I've ever fucking seen. They're the proof that true love exists. He treats her as an equal. He treats me like an equal. He does his damn hardest to ensure I am safe and loved. Even when he did mess up, he proved to me that he never wanted to hurt me.
My brother has been repeatedly sexually harassed and sexually assaulted by women like you, all because he was trans. It's why I hate you with every fiber of my being. You're no better than the misogynistic pigs you claim to be against. You are also rapists, abusers and manipulators who merely masquerade as victims.
I know misogyny existed for millennia, and that it is a horrible, horrible thing. I have felt it's sting and I have been hurt by it. Yet I refuse to become a transphobic, hateful scoundrel like you.
Not to mention the damage your philosophy has done to me! You people made me ashamed to be bisexual. You made me feel like a predator for loving women and like a traitor for loving men! You denied me the right to embrace the beauty of love and attraction, making me feel like a sick pervert! You denied my right to feel normal.
Gender essentialism are nothing but a spook of the mind. Something used to control individuals and prevent them from knowing how truly free they are, disconnecting them from their uniqueness, their ego. When they think of the other sex as predictable animals, they forget how every human is a unique spirit, who can mold themselves into a myriad of identities. You're playing into the patriarchy's hands.
I'm only 17 and somehow I'm a better human being than you'll ever be. Fuck off, hoser. You're the scum of the earth.
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pillarsalt · 8 months
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i'm snails anon, i'm sorry i don't have a copy of the ask and i'm having trouble remembering it exactly other than that i was asking about how to embrace the physical state of being a woman, in a female body. i know my transition was in part motivated by a drive to escape womanhood, and even though i feel like i'm making okay progress on learning how to accept being gnc and have beaten most of the silly social dysphoria about gender role issues, my physical dysphoria hasn't improved at all. i'm considering retransition, but i don't want to decide to do that if i know it's coming from this place of pain i'm in where i can't tolerate the physical reality of my own body. i've learned how to overcome my negative thoughts about parts of my body that aren't my sex characteristics, but i am still so overcome with this desire to be physically male, even if only in imitation. i feel like i have a responsibility to figure out if there's any way i could embrace womanhood, if it's possible for every woman to learn to do, and if so, how would i do that? it really means a lot to me that you read my ask and want to answer, i have a lot of respect for you and your art and i'm so glad you're willing to talk with me :)
Thanks for coming back, I can't believe I lost your old ask. I started writing and saved it to drafts, and suddenly it was neither in my drafts nor my inbox anymore. Fucking tumblr. Wrote this one in the notes app to be safe.
Anyway, I wanted to preface that I'm not professionally qualified in any capacity to give advice when it comes to dysphoria, transition, or health stuff in general. I can only give my opinion from what I have seen, read, and learned over the years. I'm also not someone who has experience with detransition, but I know there are many women on tumblr/radblr who are and if anyone reading this feels like they can offer more advice to anon absolutely don't hesitate to add on, I'll boost it.
So as I understand it, you know that you can't actually become male and you want to accept the fact that you're female, but your female anatomy distresses you to the point of wanting to medically alter it to look as "male" as possible. That's a really tough situation to be in. The insight and self awareness you have is admirable. I can tell you want to make the best choices possible, and it's so hard to tell what the right thing to do is.
I think the biggest thing I can emphasize about embracing womanhood is that you don't have to love being female. Even though it would be great if it was the case, I don't know of many women who wake up and think "I love being female so much." That's certainly not how I feel. Even though being male or female is just a neutral condition of birth, patriarchal society has made being female feel like a huge hindrance and unsafe and just generally shitty. That doesn't make it true though. The real goal is body neutrality. Looking in the mirror and not thinking "my breasts are disgusting and ugly" or "my breasts are powerful and beautiful" (lol) but "those are my breasts, they are part of my body, they are healthy and that's a good thing." That's just an example but it applies to your whole body. There's no should and shouldn't when it comes to your body, it just is.
The thing is that medical transition is not good for you. It may help you feel better in the short term, but in the long run, taking cross-sex hormones has a litany of life-changing side effects that can run from annoying to horrifc to deadly.
From different detransitioning women on here and on twitter (detransaqua, ImWatson91, catcattinson, somenuancepls are some from twitter i'm thinking of but there are many more), I have heard about medical transition leading to uterine atrophy, which has in turn lead to sepsis. Pain and irritation from clitoral growth that becomes unbearable and doctors will only prescribe useless numbing cream. Painful laryngeal spasms where the sufferer can barely speak and has to be surgically corrected if therapy doesn't work. Testosterone greatly increases your chance of heart disease and heart attacks. It exacerbates many pre-existing mental illnesses (they may tell you it alleviates depression but that is often only temporary, but they won't tell you it can trigger psychosis and mania as well). At this point, I can only see medical transition as delusion when uninformed of the risks, and self harm when you are aware of what you're doing to yourself. I really, really wish that it was a real solution, because I know dysphoria is also incredibly distressing and feels like it will never end, but I just can't condone women hurting themselves because they hate their bodies. And ask yourself, when will it be enough? How many surgeries, how much hrt will it take to FINALLY be happy with your body? Is it an endless chase towards a goal you can never really reach? Will that make you happier than working towards caring for your body, which is something you can actually realistically attain?
Nothing is wrong with your body, and nothing ever has been. Understanding that is embracing the fact that you are female. And I do believe it is possible for every woman, including you. Our world tells us we as women are made of parts to be divided up and analyzed and criticized and cut and sewn and thrown away. Say no. Say "fuck you, I deserve to live freely and take up space and exist the way I am without apology. There's nothing wrong with me." Walk around like you're hot shit, even if you don't feel that way. Practice having a "I fucking dare you to try me" energy when you hear see or think anything negative about the female body, that's helped me a lot. Any habit takes repetition, it always always gets easier with time. It will take a long time, I know that and you can't rush it. But it's so worth it.
The best thing you can do is TALK to other women who have gone through this. Please don't be afraid to reach out. You have never been alone in this and you never will be. Again, if anyone reading this has advice for anon, or you want to let her know she can talk to you for advice or encouragement, please absolutely add your input. Also check out @detransition if you haven't yet, it has a ton of resources.
Anon, thank you for asking this, I've been thinking about it for days. In summary, my advice is to protect your body, learn and practice healthy coping skills for your dysphoria, connect with other women. THAT is embracing womanhood, and I absolutely believe you can do it. We're rooting for you and we have your back.
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