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#i am not a library historian

kazz-brekker · 1 year

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i regret to inform you all that my curiosity has gotten the better of me and i am now reading the richard the lionheart/philip ii of france book that came out in march. so far it is committing the cardinal sin of being somewhat boring and skipping over the fun bits of history like richard’s literal teenaged rebellion against his dad but i feel obligated to stick with it at least until it gets gay to see what it does with that.

#i'm sorry. my fellow historians please do not hate me #i've decided to become interested in early english history again and i am desperately curious about this book so to the library i went #pie says stuff #pie reads #solomon's crown #pie reads solomon's crown #it is possible i will blog about this more. we shall see #history #plantegenet posting #<----- that is my tag for this particular bit of history i just invented it now

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shewillbethedeathofpoetry · 1 year

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As a child, I wanted to be an historian, then I became a teen and info-dumping about medieval keeps and Greek philosophers wasn’t cool anymore, in fact, it only caused problems. So, I put that dream on a little shelf in my mind, in a box, the lid covered in dust. I never stopped reading, never forgot the castle from that book about knights, never stopped thirsting for knowledge, for more. But that dream remained in its box. Being an historian isn’t a real career, you won’t find a job, what will you even do with the degree, my father said. He did not mean to discourage me, he simply wanted the best for me, something safe. And so that box collected more dust, became hidden underneath the layers. I’m becoming a teacher, I proclaim one day, history and English, the second best option. My father is proud and my mother is happy that I found my path in life. I forget about the box and the child who yearned for more. There’s a discontent, the nagging sensation that I’m making a mistake, and thus, I look at other programs. Historian, I click it, just for fun, and the box opens and the dream is alive and I feel that childish glee. I smile at my mother and she smiles back because she knows how seldom I experience that unadulterated joy. She also remembers the books. The box gets stored away, waiting to be filled with something else. A voice in the wind whispers, thank you, she says, and I think it’s the little girl, long lost to time.

#just a really pretentious way to say I’m studying history #but also true #there’s so much to learn #i am very excited #and emotional #I’d like to thank my local library #they created a monster #historian

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sophiamcdougall · 4 months

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You're a reasonably informed person on the internet. You've experienced things like no longer being able to get files off an old storage device, media you've downloaded suddenly going poof, sites and forums with troves full of people's thoughts and ideas vanishing forever. You've heard of cybercrime. You've read articles about lost media. You have at least a basic understanding that digital data is vulnerable, is what I'm saying. I'm guessing that you're also aware that history is, you know... important? And that it's an ongoing study, requiring ... data about how people live? And that it's not just about stanning celebrities that happen to be dead? Congratulations, you are significantly better-informed than the British government! So they're currently like "Oh hai can we destroy all these historical documents pls? To save money? Because we'll digitise them first so it's fine! That'll be easy, cheap and reliable -- right? These wills from the 1850s will totally be fine for another 170 years as a PNG or whatever, yeah? We didn't need to do an impact assesment about this because it's clearly win-win! We'd keep the physical wills of Famous People™ though because Famous People™ actually matter, unlike you plebs. We don't think there are any equalities implications about this, either! Also the only examples of Famous People™ we can think of are all white and rich, only one is a woman and she got famous because of the guy she married. Kisses!"

Yes, this is the same Government that's like "Oh no removing a statue of slave trader is erasing history :(" You have, however, until 23 February 2024 to politely inquire of them what the fuck they are smoking. And they will have to publish a summary of the responses they receive. And it will look kind of bad if the feedback is well-argued, informative and overwhelmingly negative and they go ahead and do it anyway. I currently edit documents including responses to consultations like (but significantly less insane) than this one. Responses do actually matter. I would particularly encourage British people/people based in the UK to do this, but as far as I can see it doesn't say you have to be either. If you are, say, a historian or an archivist, or someone who specialises in digital data do say so and draw on your expertise in your answers. This isn't a question of filling out a form. You have to manually compose an email answering the 12 questions in the consultation paper at the link above. I'll put my own answers under the fold. Note -- I never know if I'm being too rude in these sorts of things. You probably shouldn't be ruder than I have been.

Please do not copy and paste any of this: that would defeat the purpose. This isn't a petition, they need to see a range of individual responses. But it may give you a jumping-off point.

Question 1: Should the current law providing for the inspection of wills be preserved?

Yes. Our ability to understand our shared past is a fundamental aspect of our heritage. It is not possible for any authority to know in advance what future insights they are supporting or impeding by their treatment of material evidence. Safeguarding the historical record for future generations should be considered an extremely important duty.

Question 2: Are there any reforms you would suggest to the current law enabling wills to be inspected?

No.

Question 3: Are there any reasons why the High Court should store original paper will documents on a permanent basis, as opposed to just retaining a digitised copy of that material?

Yes. I am amazed that the recent cyber attack on the British Library, which has effectively paralysed it completely, not been sufficient to answer this question for you. I also refer you to the fate of the Domesday Project. Digital storage is useful and can help more people access information; however, it is also inherently fragile. Malice, accident, or eventual inevitable obsolescence not merely might occur, but absolutely should be expected. It is ludicrously naive and reflects a truly unpardonable ignorance to assume that information preserved only in digital form is somehow inviolable and safe, or that a physical document once digitised, never need be digitised again..At absolute minimum, it should be understood as certain that at least some of any digital-only archive will eventually be permanently lost. It is not remotely implausible that all of it would be. Preserving the physical documents provides a crucial failsafe. It also allows any errors in reproduction -- also inevitable-- to be, eventually, seen and corrected. Note that maintaining, upgrading and replacing digital infrastructure is not free, easy or reliable. Over the long term, risks to the data concerned can only accumulate.

"Unlike the methods for preserving analog documents that have been honed over millennia, there is no deep precedence to look to regarding the management of digital records. As such, the processing, long-term storage, and distribution potential of archival digital data are highly unresolved issues. [..] the more digital data is migrated, translated, and re-compressed into new formats, the more room there is for information to be lost, be it at the microbit-level of preservation. Any failure to contend with the instability of digital storage mediums, hardware obsolescence, and software obsolescence thus meets a terminal end—the definitive loss of information. The common belief that digital data is safe so long as it is backed up according to the 3-2-1 rule (3 copies on 2 different formats with 1 copy saved off site) belies the fact that it is fundamentally unclear how long digital information can or will remain intact. What is certain is that its unique vulnerabilities do become more pertinent with age." -- James Boyda, On Loss in the 21st Century: Digital Decay and the Archive, Introduction.

Question 4: Do you agree that after a certain time original paper documents (from 1858 onwards) may be destroyed (other than for famous individuals)? Are there any alternatives, involving the public or private sector, you can suggest to their being destroyed?

Absolutely not. And I would have hoped we were past the "great man" theory of history. Firstly, you do not know which figures will still be considered "famous" in the future and which currently obscure individuals may deserve and eventually receive greater attention. I note that of the three figures you mention here as notable enough to have their wills preserved, all are white, the majority are male (the one woman having achieved fame through marriage) and all were wealthy at the time of their death. Any such approach will certainly cull evidence of the lives of women, people of colour and the poor from the historical record, and send a clear message about whose lives you consider worth remembering.

Secondly, the famous and successsful are only a small part of our history. Understanding the realities that shaped our past and continue to mould our present requires evidence of the lives of so-called "ordinary people"!

Did you even speak to any historians before coming up with this idea?

Entrusting the documents to the private sector would be similarly disastrous. What happens when a private company goes bust or decides that preserving this material is no longer profitable? What reasonable person, confronted with our crumbling privatised water infrastructure, would willingly consign any part of our heritage to a similar fate?

Question 5: Do you agree that there is equivalence between paper and digital copies of wills so that the ECA 2000 can be used?

No. And it raises serious questions about the skill and knowledge base within HMCTS and the government that the very basic concepts of data loss and the digital dark age appear to be unknown to you. I also refer you to the Domesday Project.

Question 6: Are there any other matters directly related to the retention of digital or paper wills that are not covered by the proposed exercise of the powers in the ECA 2000 that you consider are necessary?

Destroying the physical documents will always be an unforgivable dereliction of legal and moral duty.

Question 7: If the Government pursues preserving permanently only a digital copy of a will document, should it seek to reform the primary legislation by introducing a Bill or do so under the ECA 2000?

Destroying the physical documents will always be an unforgivable dereliction of legal and moral duty.

Question 8: If the Government moves to digital only copies of original will documents, what do you think the retention period for the original paper wills should be? Please give reasons and state what you believe the minimum retention period should be and whether you consider the Government’s suggestion of 25 years to be reasonable.

There is no good version of this plan. The physical documents should be preserved.

Question 9: Do you agree with the principle that wills of famous people should be preserved in the original paper form for historic interest?

This question betrays deep ignorance of what "historic interest" actually is. The study of history is not simply glorified celebrity gossip. If anything, the physical wills of currently famous people could be considered more expendable as it is likely that their contents are so widely diffused as to be relatively "safe", whereas the wills of so-called "ordinary people" will, especially in aggregate, provide insights that have not yet been explored.

Question 10: Do you have any initial suggestions on the criteria which should be adopted for identifying famous/historic figures whose original paper will document should be preserved permanently?

Abandon this entire lamentable plan. As previously discussed, you do not and cannot know who will be considered "famous" in the future, and fame is a profoundly flawed criterion of historical significance.

Question 11: Do you agree that the Probate Registries should only permanently retain wills and codicils from the documents submitted in support of a probate application? Please explain, if setting out the case for retention of any other documents.

No, all the documents should be preserved indefinitely.

Question 12: Do you agree that we have correctly identified the range and extent of the equalities impacts under each of these proposals set out in this consultation? Please give reasons and supply evidence of further equalities impacts as appropriate.

No. You appear to have neglected equalities impacts entirely. As discussed, in your drive to prioritise "famous people", your plan will certainly prioritise the white, wealthy and mostly the male, as your "Charles Dickens, Charles Darwin and Princess Diana" examples amply indicate. This plan will create a two-tier system where evidence of the lives of the privileged is carefully preserved while information regarding people of colour, women, the working class and other disadvantaged groups is disproportionately abandoned to digital decay and eventual loss. Current and future historians from, or specialising in the history of minority groups will be especially impoverished by this.

#ukpol #uk politics #fuck the tories #lost media #data loss #cultural vandalism

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brandyschillace · 2 months

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The Forgotten History of the World’s First Transgender Clinic

I finished the first round of edits on my nonfiction history of trans rights today. It will publish with Norton in 2025, but I decided, because I feel so much of my community is here, to provide a bit of the introduction.

[begin sample]

The Institute for Sexual Sciences had offered safe haven to homosexuals and those we today consider transgender for nearly two decades. It had been built on scientific and humanitarian principles established at the end of the 19th century and which blossomed into the sexology of the early 20th. Founded by Magnus Hirschfeld, a Jewish homosexual, the Institute supported tolerance, feminism, diversity, and science. As a result, it became a chief target for Nazi destruction: “It is our pride,” they declared, to strike a blow against the Institute. As for Magnus Hirschfeld, Hitler would label him the “most dangerous Jew in Germany.”6 It was his face Hitler put on his antisemitic propaganda; his likeness that became a target; his bust committed to the flames on the Opernplatz. You have seen the images. You have watched the towering inferno that roared into the night. The burning of Hirschfeld’s library has been immortalized on film reels and in photographs, representative of the Nazi imperative, symbolic of all they would destroy. Yet few remember what they were burning—or why.

Magnus Hirschfeld had built his Institute on powerful ideas, yet in their infancy: that sex and gender characteristics existed upon a vast spectrum, that people could be born this way, and that, as with any other diversity of nature, these identities should be accepted. He would call them Intermediaries.

Intermediaries carried no stigma and no shame; these sexual and Gender nonconformists had a right to live, a right to thrive. They also had a right to joy. Science would lead the way, but this history unfolds as an interwar thriller—patients and physicians risking their lives to be seen and heard even as Hitler began his rise to power. Many weren’t famous; their lives haven’t been celebrated in fiction or film. Born into a late-nineteenth-century world steeped in the “deep anxieties of men about the shifting work, social roles, and power of men over women,” they came into her own just as sexual science entered the crosshairs of prejudice and hate. The Institute’s own community faced abuse, blackmail, and political machinations; they responded with secret publishing campaigns, leaflet drops, pro-homosexual propaganda, and alignments with rebel factions of Berlin’s literati. They also developed groundbreaking gender affirmation surgeries and the first hormone cocktail for supportive gender therapy.

Nothing like the Institute for Sexual Sciences had ever existed before it opened its doors—and despite a hundred years of progress, there has been nothing like it since. Retrieving this tale has been an exercise in pursuing history at its edges and fringes, in ephemera and letters, in medal texts, in translations. Understanding why it became such a target for hatred tells us everything about our present moment, about a world that has not made peace with difference, that still refuses the light of scientific evidence most especially as it concerns sexual and reproductive rights.

[end sample]

I wanted to add a note here: so many people have come together to make this possible. Like Ralf Dose of the Magnus-Hirschfeld-Gesellschaft (Magnus Hirschfeld Archive), Berlin, and Erin Reed, American journalist and transgender rights activist—Katie Sutton, Heike Bauer. I am also deeply indebted to historian, filmmaker and formative theorist Susan Stryker for her feedback, scholarship, and encouragement all along the way. And Laura Helmuth, editor of Scientific American, whose enthusiasm for a short article helped bring the book into being. So many LGBTQ+ historians, archivists, librarians, and activists made the work possible, that its publication testifies to the power of the queer community and its dedication to preserving and celebrating history. But I ALSO want to mention you, folks here on tumblr who have watched and encouraged and supported over the 18 months it took to write it (among other books and projects). @neil-gaiman has been especially wonderful, and @always-coffee too: thank you.

The support of this community has been important as I’ve faced backlash in other quarters. Thank you, all.

NOTE: they are attempting to rebuild the lost library, and you can help: https://magnus-hirschfeld.de/archivzentrum/archive-center/

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ironwoman359 · 10 months

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i saw your tag about how in 500 years we WON'T be calling britney spears' "toxic" classical music, and i am willing and able to hear this rant if you so wish to expand upon it :3c

You know what, it's been over six months, so sure, why not, let's pick today to have this rant/lesson!

To establish my credentials for those unfamiliar Hi my name's Taylor I was a music teacher up until last year when the crushing realities of the American Education SystemTM led me to quit classroom work and become a library clerk instead. But said music teaching means that I have 4+ years of professional classical training in performance and education, and while I'm by no means a historian, I know my way around the history of (european) music.

So, now that you know that I'm not just some rando, but a musical rando, let me tell you why we won't be calling Britney Spears or [insert modern musician(s) that'd be especially humorous to today's audience to call classical] "classical music."

The simple answer is that "Old music =/= Classical music," which is usually the joke being made when you see this joke in the first place.

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As funny as this joke can be when executed well (this is one of my favorite versions of said joke, especially since this is a future world where there's very little accurate surviving info about the culture from the 21st century), there is VERY little likely of this actually being how music from today is referred to in the future, because, again, music being OLD does not automatically make music CLASSICAL.

If you'd indulge me a moment, have a look at these three pieces from the early 1900s, which is now over 100 years ago. That's pretty old! You don't have to listen to the whole of all of them if you don't want to, but give each around 30 seconds or so of listening.

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All three pieces are over 100 years old, but would you call "In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree" classical? Or "The Entertainer?" Most likely not. You'd probably call these songs "old timey" and you may even be savvy enough to call "The Entertainer" by it's actual genre name, ragtime. But if either of these songs came on the radio, you wouldn't really call them classical, would you? They're just old.

Whereas Mahler's Symphony No. 5, now that sounds like classical music to you, doesn't it? It's got trumpets, violins, a conductor, it's being played by a philharmonic! That's a classical musicy word!

The short answer of why we in the real, nonfictional world won't be calling Britney Spears's "Toxic" classical music in 100 years is it simply doesn't sound like classical music.

.....and the long answer is that Mahler's Symphony No. 5 isn't actually classical either.

See, music, just like everything in culture from dress to art to architecture changed with the times, and therefore 'classical music' is technically (although not colloquially) only one of about four to five musical periods/styles you're likely to hear on one of those "classical music tunes to study to" playlists.

Our dear friend Mahler up there was not a classical composer, he was a composer of the late romantic era.

So now, because I have you hostage in my post (just kidding please don't scroll away I had a lot of fun writing this but it took me nearly 3 hours) I'm going to show you the difference between Classical music and the other musical eras.

These are the movements we'll be dealing with, along with the general dates that define them (remembering of course that history is complicated and the Baroque Period didn't magically begin on January 1st, 1600, or end the moment Bach died) :

The Baroque Period (1600-1750)

The Classical Period (1750-1820)

The Romantic Period (1820-1910)

The Impressionist Movement (1890-1920)

You'll notice that as time goes on, the periods themselves grow shorter, and there starts to become some overlap in the late 19th to early 20th century. The world was moving faster, changing faster, and music and art began changing faster as well. Around the beginning of the 20th century music historians quit assigning One Major style to an entire era of history and just started studying those movements themselves, especially since around the 20th century we were getting much more experimentation and unique ideas being explored in the mainstream.

Even the end of the classical to the beginning of the romantic period can get kind of fuzzy, with Beethoven, arguably one of the most famous classical (and yes he was actually classical) composers in history toeing the line between classical and romantic in his later years. The final movement of his 9th symphony, known as Ode to Joy, far more resembles a romantic work than a classical one.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

To oversimplify somewhat, here are the main characteristics of said movements:

The Baroque Period (1600-1750)

Music was very technical and heavily ornamented. This coincided with a very "fancy" style of dress and decoration (the rococo style became popular towards the latter half of this period). The orchestras were far smaller than we are used to seeing in concert halls today, and many instruments we consider essential would not have been present, such as the french horn, a substantial percussion section, or even the piano*. Notable composers include Vivaldi (of the Four Seasons fame), Handel (of the Messiah fame) and Bach:

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*the piano as we know it today, initially called the pianoforte due to its ability to play both softly (piano) and loudly (forte) in contrast to the harpsichord, which could only play at one dynamic level, was actually invented around 1700, but didn't initially gain popularity until much later. This Bach Concerto would have traditionally been played on a harpsichord rather than a piano, but the piano really does have such a far greater expressive ability that unless a group is going for Historical Accuracy, you'll usually see a piano used in performances of baroque work today.

The Classical Period (1750-1820)

In the classical period, music became more "ordered," not just metaphorically but literally. The music was carefully structured, phrases balanced evenly in a sort of call and response manner. Think of twinkle twinkle little star's extremely balanced phrasing, itself a tune that Mozart took and applied 12 classical variations to, cementing it in popularity. And speaking of twinkle twinkle, memorable melody became more important to the composition than ornamentation, and many of our most universally known melodies in the west come from this period. The orchestra also grew bigger, adding more players of all kinds as now we didn't have to worry about overpowering the single-volume harpsichord, and additional instruments like more brass and woodwinds were added. Notable composers include Haydn (of The Surprise Symphony fame) Beethoven (of, well, Fame), and Mozart:

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Pay attention to the size of the orchestra here, then go back to the Bach concerto. Notice how in that very typical Baroque setting, the orchestra sits at maybe 20 people, and that here in a Classical setting, there's nearly two times that!

The Romantic Period (1820-1910)

In the romantic period, it was all about BIG FEELINGS, MAN. It was about the DRAMA. Orchestras got even bigger than before, the music focused less on balance and became more dramatic, and there was a big focus on emotions, individualism, and nationalism. Discerning listeners will notice a lot of similarities between romantic symphonies and modern film scores; John Williams in particular is very clearly influenced by this era, any time I'd play the famous Ride of the Valkyries by Wagner in a class, the kids would remark that it sounds like it should be in Star Wars. A lot of romantic composers were German, including Beethoven, if you want to call his later works romantic (which I and many others argue you can, again, compare Ode to Joy to one of his earlier works and you can hear and see the difference), but you also have the Hungarian Liszt (of the Hungarian Rhapsodies fame), the Russian Tchaikovsky (of the Nutcracker and 1812 Overture fame), and the Czech Dvořák:

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See how this orchestra is even bigger still? Modern orchestras tend to vary in size depending on what pieces they are playing, but the standard is much closer to this large, romantic size, and it's far less typical to see a small, intimate Baroque setting unless specifically attending a Baroque focused concert. Also I know I embedded Dvořák because Symphony From a New World slaps but please also listen to Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No.2 it's one of my all time favorite pieces and NOT just because of the Tom and Jerry cartoon, alright? Alright.

The Impressionist Movement (1890-1920)

A bit after it began but definitely still during the romantic period, a counter movement began in France that turned away from the emotional excess of romanticism and focused less on standard chord progression and explored more unconventional scales. This music was less worried about how it 'should' sound and was more concerned with evoking a certain emotion or image, giving you an "impression" of an idea. Debussy is by far the most well known name in this movement, even though he personally hated the term 'impressionism,' lol.

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Notice the way the periods build on each other naturally, literally, physically builds on the orchestras that came before, evolving in style and structure until you get to the late 19th and early 20th century when things were built up so big that a response to that excess started to develop, first in the impressionist movement, and then into 20th century music in general, which got much more experimental and, as we say, "weird." (frickin 12 tone scales, man)* *i do not actually dislike the sound of 12 tone, it's interesting and unique, but it is HELL to analyze in music theory, which is unfortunately when a lot of us classical musicians are first introduced to it, therefore tarnishing our relationship to the genre as we cannot separate it from our own undergrad anguish

Even if you're not a super active listener and you have a harder time discerning the difference between, say, late baroque and early classical, you cannot deny that the first piece I've linked by Bach and the last piece I've linked by Debussy sound completely different. They're both orchestral pieces (I intentionally chose all orchestral pieces as my examples here, getting into solo works, opera, and chamber ensembles would take too long), but other than that, they couldn't be more different.

Wait, so what are we talking about again?

Classical Music is first a period of music, a specific artistic movement with music typically written in Europe between 1750 and 1820 with a specific sound that is distinct from these other styles I've outlined here.

And Classical Music is second a genre. Because while academically and historically Baroque music is not classical, and Romantic music is not classical...colloquially it is. They sound similar enough that it makes sense to put them on the same playlists, the same radio stations, the same 'beats to study to' youtube compilation videos. While individuals may have favorites and preferences, it's not far fetched to say that if you like listening to one of these styles, you'll at least like one of the others.

But whether you're being broad and referring to our modern idea of the classical genre, or you're being pedantic like me and referring to a specific period of musical history (or modern compositions emulating that style, because yeah, modern compositions of all of theses styles do exist), I think we can all agree that, as much as it slaps, "Toxic" by Britney Spears is not classical music, and 500 years is unlikely to change our perspective of that.

A Traditional Ballad though?

Yeah, I can see us calling it that in 5 billion years.

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(the full version of this scene is age restricted for some reason, but you can watch it here)

Anyway, thanks for reading y'all, have a good one!

#music #music theory #music history #classical music #baroque music #romantic music #impressionist music #music teacher #music teaching #taylor teaches #asks and answers #long post

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smellofemale · 4 months

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introduction post woohoo yeah!

about me!

my name is priscilla!

i post about the void state, law of assumption, shifting all through a religious perspective (Christian)!

on this page we believe in a free Palestine, we are pro-equality, anti-colonialism and open minded to everything!

my personal interests are:jojos bizarre adventure, devil may cry (original anime, i haven't played the game yet!), reading, poetry, music(my favorite bands are the kinks, tokio hotel, hanoi rocks, new york dolls, the damned, icky boyfriends, blondie, tears for fears and the velvet underground! this is my spotify <3) john waters, visual-kei, history and documentaries!

i have tapped into the void state multiple times! i am just working on like actually affirming when i'm in it hehe. i have also shifted! i've only done 1 BIG shift and that was actually before i even knew about shifting, it was completely accidental and just to a better cr when i was quite young! but i have mini-shifted more times than i can count :")

my current drs: tokio hotel, rozz williams, historian, church dr (one where i literally just have a better relationship with the church and heal my religious trauma haha), warhol superstar, library (i literally just have a gigantic library with every single book in the world), director, Claude cahun (i literally just want to have a first hand experience of speaking with them. they are so interesting to me.), my hero academia, jojos bizarre adventure, Max's Kansas city and cbgb dr!

i mainly shift to learn about my interests first hand but i also have a few where i can *meet* my celebrity crushes hehe.

my void state list

things to add to your void state list

my void state master affirmation tape

some of my favorite void state subliminals

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fitzs-trained-monkey · 2 years

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The Result of Naps

Word Count: 4,000 (Short ik)

Warnings: Absolutely none. Just fluff.

Summary: RAFO, my darlings ;) || Elijah x reader || Here lies my Masterlist ||

A/N: I wrote for Elijah? BY CHOICE??? Wow, must be the end of the world. It just sort of happened. It's not bad tho. If y'all like this, I have a draft for a part two in my google docs. Just sayin'. Now sit back and enjoy the show!

😴 STORY BEGINS BELOW 😴

Your shift passed as it always did. Slowly and in silence. Being employed by the town as the Mystic Fall's Archive Historian had sounded like a dream come true, right up until you realized that you were really just a glorified librarian. The town archives were located towards the back of the Mystic Falls public library and it was too expensive to pay a separate caretaker when you were there to do practically the same thing.

Don't get it wrong, you loved books - history and knowledge were precious to you - but as much as you enjoyed spending each day in a large building full of literature, you weren't sure how much longer you could last spending day after day alone watching such treasures do nothing but collect dust. No one came to the library anymore - most just preferred studying from home. The library's book selection was rather outdated and no one aside from you would willingly read the town's milling or tax records. So you spent your days alone. Sitting in silence. Watching books collect dust.

That was precisely how you'd fallen into the nasty habit of taking naps on the job. It was hard not to. The library building didn't exactly have the best air conditioning in the world and it was always so deserted that you could regularly fit in a two or three hour nap with no consequences.

So naturally, when someone tapped you on your shoulder in the middle of one of those naps, you nearly jumped out of your skin.

"HOLY TOLEDO!" You shouted, stirring to life. The book resting on your chest tumbled off, but a hand shot out and caught it before it hit the floor. You looked up slowly to see who had disturbed your slumber and were surprised to find yourself looking at the face of a gorgeous young man dressed in what appeared to be a very expensive suit. He stared down at you with an inquisitive look. You smiled sheepishly. "Uh, hiiiiiiii... What can I do for you?"

"My apologies for disturbing your rest, Miss," He said, clearly just a little bit amused and trying not to show it. You bit your lip and sat up, blinking and stretching your neck out a little. You had to fight the urge to rub your eyes.

"No, no it's fine," You assured him, waving your hand. "I'm really sorry about that. It's just... nobody ever comes in here, ya know? Just the occasional founder or whatever, but that's just once in a blue moon and high schoolers only visit when they're absolutely desperate... and I'm rambling, aren't I?" You let go of a nervous chuckle and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"It's not a trouble," He said.

"Anyway... Let's start over, shall we?" You stood, smoothing the wrinkles from your shirt and straightening your nametag. Then you offered him your hand. "I'm Y/N, Mystic Falls Public Archive Historian and glorified librarian."

The man took your hand and, instead of shaking, he lifted it to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to your knuckles. "I am Elijah," He introduced. He provided you no other information but you were a little too distracted by his charming behavior to dwell on that.

"Okay," You breathed, blushing. "Well, what can I help you with? I've read just about everything in this place at least twice, so I'm sure I can help you find whatever it is you're looking for."

A small smile found its way to Elijah's lips and he looked you over as if trying to determine something.

"Well, you see, I'm writing my dissertation on the history of small towns in north-western Virginia-" He began.

"That sounds fatally boring," You interrupted. He didn't even have to speak to point out everything you had just said about your job, his expression did the talking for him and you realized you had no argument. "Continue."

"As luck would have it, this town possesses the largest collection of antique documents in the area. I was simply hoping you would point me in the direction of the town's archives," He said.

"Oh, finally!" You exclaimed, clapping your hands. "It's been a hot minute since anyone aside from the Mayor or the Sheriff has asked to see those. Right this way, Elijah." He frowned.

"There's no need to accompany me Miss. Y/N," Elijah politely claimed. "If you simply point the way, I'm confident I'll be able to manage the rest. I would hate to impose on your... personal time."

You snorted. "Personal time? Is there something you'd like to say about my work ethic, Mr. Elijah?"

"Nothing at all," He chuckled pleasantly. "And just Elijah will do fine."

You nodded, raising a brow. "Will it now?"

He smiled. "Of course. If we are to consider ourselves friends, that is."

"Friends?" You questioned, blinking in surprise. "I haven't been at this job too long, but I have to say I'm surprised. Just for future reference, do all writers befriend random small town librarians, or is that just you?"

"I'd like to think it's just me," Elijah replied, shrugging just slightly. He was very reserved, you noticed. "Especially if said individual is as beautiful as you and circumstances dictate I'll be visiting them quite often."

You smirked, nodding. "Visiting often for research, I'm sure. Nothing else."

"Naturally," He hummed, pleased you caught his meaning.

You laughed, ducking your head to hide the blush that colored your cheeks. There was something about that smile... "Well, in that case, Y/N will do just fine."

"Excellent, I'll keep that in mind." His eyes scanned your face and you swallowed thickly under the intensity of it. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Anyway," You continued. "While I'm sure you're more than qualified to navigate a library the size of a broom closet, you would find yourself faced with a locked door and as I happen to be the keeper of that door's sole key, it is imperative that I accompany you to your destination."

"Valid point." He nodded and extended his arm to you - very old-fashioned like. "In that case, lead the way."

"It would be my genuine pleasure." You smiled and hooked your arm through his, starting towards the back. Within a matter of moments, the two of you had crossed the length of the library and you guided him to a non-descript door with a plaque that read Employees Only. The door was locked, of course, just as you had told Elijah it would be, thus you removed the lanyard which held your keyring from around your neck and fitted the lock with its proper key. Turning the handle, you pulled the door open and waved him through; however, to your surprise, Elijah took the door from you and motioned for you to continue first. You grinned and shook your head but took the invitation anyway, making sure to kick a doorstop next to the frame to keep it from closing all the way just in case someone asked for you while you were assisting Elijah.

"I can hold a door, you know," You teased as Elijah joined you once again. A short hallway stretched off in front of you. The door to your left opened into the library's Digital Resource Housing Accommodation - which was honestly just a fancy way of saying Computer Room but the town's council insisted on the pretentious name. (Of course, the library kept two computers out in its main area for public use, but those had a habit of getting stolen by desperate high schoolers.) Whereas the four doors to your right led to a series of small rooms for anyone in need of a quieter space for private tutors or counseling. At the end of the hall, there was another door on the left. You headed towards that one.

"I am aware." He nodded, smiling. "I happen to be a devout feminist."

"Then you of all people should know that chivalry is dead," You pointed out.

"Perhaps," He acknowledged. "Although I see no reason it shouldn't be brought back."

You scoffed. "Yeah, no. I don't think men need yet another reason to delude themselves into thinking a woman needs them for anything," You said.

"You are absolutely right," The man agreed, laughing just a little bit.

"Yes, I am." Reaching the door, you switched out your keys and unlocked that one too. Elijah reached past you and pulled it open, holding it for you. Raising a brow, you turned to face him pointedly. "What was that about me being right?"

"You are." He offered you another one of those small yet knee weakening smiles and you crossed your arms in an attempt to ground the butterflies it set off. "However, chivalry is not about doing things for a woman out of the misguided fantasy that she cannot do them for herself. Rather, it is about treating a woman with the proper respect, dignity, and kindness a lady deserves to be shown." He watched you kick another doorstop into place before leaning against the door frame to look up at him.

"Yeah, I've never met another man who buys that."

Elijah shrugged easily. "Well, anyone who believes otherwise is simply an unfortunate waste product of a primitive society."

You nodded and smirked. "Oh, I like you." Pushing yourself off the door frame, you took a left and began climbing the old and only slightly rickety stairwell. Elijah followed you in but his footsteps stalled on the landing. You turned back to see him glancing to the right, towards the staircase that descended into the basement, wearing an expression of slight confusion. "What?"

"Not to question your expertise, but typical archives I've visited in the past have been located on the lowest floors - in underground vaults and such," He explained. "Is that not the case here?"

You tried to be courteous, but there was a reason you had tried to avoid customer service work your whole life. You threw your head back and laughed, clutching your side.

Elijah tilted his head. "Did I say something wrong?"

You shook your head, still giggling. "No! No, you're fine." You wiped your eyes and took a deep breath. "Sorry, it's just-" You took one look at his face and burst out laughing again.

"What did I say?" He demanded, fighting a chuckle of his own.

"Okay, okay!" You pushed your hair out of your face and schooled your expression, calming yourself. "First of all, this ain't the Smithsonian, Elijah."

"Oh, absolutely not," He agreed, shaking his head. "For one thing, the staff in this establishment is deplorable."

"File a complaint with my manager." You shrugged. "Oh, wait... That's right, I am my manager."

Elijah huffed a laugh and began climbing the stairs. "That sounds rather tedious, but please continue.."

You grinned. Finally, someone who appreciated your sense of humor. "Second, this is Virginia. The ground floor is where we put the stuff we can afford to lose, and anything we put in the basement is destined for annihilation." He shot you a questioning look and you elaborated. "This place flooded twice last year."

"oh, I'm sorry to hear that," He said, frowning.

"Don't be - you're not the one who had to clean it up." You smirked, elbowing him playfully. You weren't sure why. After all, you barely knew this man, but despite his expensive attire and reserved demeanor, something about him just put you at ease. So you were grateful that he didn't seem to mind, going so far as to laugh along with you.

At the top of the stairs there stood yet another door, though this one was much newer and more sturdy than the rest. Once you turned the key, its digital lock required you to swipe your card and input a four digit code. "No peeking," You said teasingly, not really caring if he took you seriously.

He did look away, although not without comment. "I'm fairly confident I could kick this door down if I was truly committed."

"Mmm... I wouldn't be too sure about that." You pushed the door open and held it this time, gesturing behind you. "Go ahead and take a look-see."

Elijah raised a brow but walked in and glanced at the back of the door. "Steel reinforcement," He noted, duly impressed. "That's quite a lot of security for a small-town archive."

You snorted. "You say that as if there's some sort of conspiracy to be had here."

"Isn't there?"

You paused for a moment, then shrugged, flipping on the lights. "Take that up with the founder's council, my friend," You supplied.

The dim lights of the archive room flickered to life, revealing row after row of floor to ceiling filing cabinets that spanned to the back wall. There were no windows. The only other furniture in the room was a large wooden desk, complete with several yellow lamps and a magnifying glass. Old school all the way.

Elijah blinked and turned to you. "The Founder's Council?" He inquired.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, leaning against the wall next to the light switch. "It's kinda like some super secret club the founding families have where they get together to share their holier-than-thou gossip and Pinterest recipes," You said with a long sigh. "They like to think nobody on the outside knows about it, but if their ancestors didn't want anyone to find out, then they shouldn't have written about it so much. Fast forward a hundred and fifty some-odd years and with the descendents of those families too lazy to go through their actual mountains of inherited documents, guess who got to read all about those little pow-wows -" You clicked your tongue, jabbing a thumb towards yourself. "- this gal, that's who.

"Do you think there's something this Council could be hiding?" He wondered.

"Oh, I think there's plenty of things they think they're hiding," You scoffed. "But as for any actual conspiracies? I think not... aside from maybe a scandal or two."

"I see." He nodded.

"It's honestly sad to see how self-important some people are," You grumbled.

"Agreed," Elijah hummed, looking as annoyed as he probably could. "Especially since they're not even the actual founders of this town."

"Right?!"

"Because it was the Vikings who actually first settled in this area almost one thousand years ago," The two of you said in unison. You paused and glanced at him. Elijah grinned

"I'm impressed," He remarked, seeming to evaluate you a second time. You shrugged.

"History is kinda my life," You admitted, a little bit sheepishly. "That being said, what might you be looking for?"

He waved a hand dismissively. "I'd hate to bother you with my research, it's bound to be dull. Besides, I'm sure you must be quite eager to get back to your, ah... study of the unconscious mind." His lips twitched upward in just the suggestion of a smirk. You huffed, placing a hand to your chest in foux offense.

"Ah, I see how it is," You laughed. "Fall asleep on the job one time and you're branded for life."

He raised a brow playfully. "Are you positive it was just the one time?"

"I don't feel obliged to disclose that information," You hummed.

Elijah chuckled. "I see."

"Regardless, it's against government policy to allow civilians to handle fragile historic documents without supervision of an archive historian," You informed, shrugging.

"I can assure you, I've handled such documents many times before," Elijah insisted.

You blinked and let the smirk drop from your face. "True as that may be, you said earlier that this research is for your dissertation - i.e. you haven't yet graduated and/or obtained your degree. Thus I am still required by law to watch you like a hawk." You tilted your head and flashed him a tight smile. "Sorry, bud." Your tone was as much a warning as it was an informative statement.

Elijah opened his mouth to say something but quickly thought better of it. "Point taken," He conceded, nodding though it was a little stiff.

"It's not that I mean to be a stickler but, uh..." You hissed. "Wait, no, yeah I am absolutely a stickler."

"I disagree, you take your duties of historical preservation seriously - I admire that. Please note that I am in no way attempting to undermine you," Elijah promised, moving to sit at the desk. "I simply do not wish to make a burden of myself."

You huffed a laugh. "You're not a burden, Elijah. I'm genuinely glad you're here, giving me a chance to do my actual job for once. I didn't go to college for six years only to end up reading children's books to second graders every Friday afternoon."

"This isn't the carrier you would have chosen?" He asked, frowning slightly.

"Oh heck no." You shook your head, laughing softly. "With my degree I could be working at the Smithsonian."

"And would you like that?"

"It's only been my dream since I was a kid," You said, smiling wryly. "I love research - it's like a treasure hunt or a puzzle, except you have no clue what anything looks like. You just have to piece it together however you see best until the picture reveals itself."

"That's a beautiful way to look at it." Elijah smiled. "In that case, perhaps you could begin by helping me find every map, census, or property survey of areas in this town where unusual amounts of human remains have been found."

How he managed to say that with a completely straight face, you would never know.

You blinked. "Well that got dark really fast."

He gave you a small hapless shrug. "It's not the most pleasant subject for study, I am aware."

"Not the weirdest I've heard, actually," You admitted. Shaking away your surprise and hesitation, you began making your way through the isles in search of relevant cabinets. "Can I ask what this is for or should I mind my own business?"

Eijah got up to search on his own but continued talking to you as he did. "While I was in Salem researching the witch trials, I heard stories of a group of supposed witches who migrated to North-Western Virginia in order to escape persecution. All accounts led me to determine Mystic Falls as their chosen destination and, according to the stories, these women lived in the area peacefully until it was settled by this town's so-called-founders at which time they were burned at the stake for witchcraft." He poked his head around the cabinet to look at you. "I would like to find out exactly where they were murdered," He said.

Oh... well if that was the case then he had you looking for the wrong documents.

You grinned and shoved the cabinet you were rifling through shut. "You know, that's actually pretty cool," You voiced, turning to face him. Elijah raised a brow.

"Is it?" He wondered. "Most would consider my research rather morbid."

"Well it is that," You acknowledged with a slight chuckle. You beckoned for him to follow as you switched isles. "But it's also really awesome. I mean, it's almost kinda like detective work, right?"

"How do you figure?" He asked, moving with you as you perused the cabinet labels. You knew what you were looking for, you just had to find the bloody thing.

"Well, obviously the people responsible for the killings of these innocent women are long dead. The perpetrators can't be punished; yet, you're still trying to validate these deaths and make sure that these women are documented. I guess that's kind of like finding the victims of the Zodiac Killer or something - you may not be able to seek justice for their deaths but at least you can make sure they're acknowledged." You glanced up only to find Elijah staring at you with an odd expression on his face. His stare was intense and piercing, you felt yourself blushing under the intensity of it. You shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Or maybe I just have no clue what I'm talking about... Anyway, this is what we're looking for," You muttered, nudging a rather large drawer with your foot.

"This right here?" He pointed, seeming to snap out of whatever thoughts he'd been lost in.

"Yep." You pushed your hair back. "You're gonna have to help me though." Elijah's brows pulled together and you just sighed. "There's a really, really heavy trunk in here."

"Oh, I see." He bent down, gripping the handle and you followed suit. "On three?"

"Or we could just yank really hard?" You suggested.

He grinned, smiling wryly. "That could work."

"Okay, go!"

Together you pulled on the drawer with as much strength as you could muster, slowly dragging it out. The old metal tracks squealed as they slid against one another, and the cabinet groaned with the weight of its contents. Inside the drawer was an old leather trunk, battered and worn, bearing more locks on it than any sane man would ever find reasonable. In, fancy, bold handwriting, the lid bore the inscription: FORBES. The sheriff and her daughter had donated the truck to the Historical Society about a year ago and you had spent months going through everything they had managed to stuff in there.

"I'm convinced little Caroline Forbes is a wizard," You declared, huffing as you rummaged through the stacks of old papers in search of one specific little book. "Cuz there is no way one person can fit that much stuff into one trunk without some use of magic."

Elijah seemed baffled as well, though he wasn't nearly as winded as you were. That fact probably had something to do with the extraordinarily fine biceps he was hiding under that expensive suit, which you had not failed to notice.

"What exactly is all of this?" He asked, carefully fingering a stack of what appeared to be bird sketches.

"This is hardly the tip of the iceberg," You answered, unable to stop the grin spreading across your face. "All the founding families hoard area history like it's gold; this is only what they've deemed unimportant enough to their little counsel for me to see." Finally, you found what you'd been searching for. You drew the little leather-bound book from under a stack of accounting papers and held it high in the air. "Ah ha!"

"Is that a journal?" Elijah asked with no small note of skepticism.

"Not just any journal, my good friend," You declared. "This is quite possibly the most interesting journal in all of Mystic Falls. May I present to you, the journal of Mr. Alexander Forbes."

"And why should I be interested in such a diary?" He wondered.

You raised a brow at him. "Did you honestly think a bunch of pompous, well-to-do, small towns folk would document that time they brutally murdered a group of innocent women becasue they wanted their land?" You deadpanned. He blinked, clearly stunned by your blunt comment. You continued. "If you wanna find out about this town's sketchy history, the adults won't tell you anything. That's why I like kids, they tell the truth whether they realize it or not. Take little Alexander Forbes, he would have made an excellent detective had he not died at age sixteen." You wandered back to the desk at the front of the room and laid the journal down with care, pulling one of the lamps closer, you adjusted the light so it wouldn't harm the pages. "Alex here, wrote stories about the things no one talked about..." You flipped through the book until you landed on the page you'd been thinking of. The heading read: The Garden of Skulls. You grinned. "Like a mansion on the edge of town surrounded by the ghosts of dead witches, perhaps?"

You glanced up to see the grin that twisted Elijah's lips as his eyes skimmed over the yellowed journal entry. "That sounds like a lead," He murmured.

"That it does." You smirked, glancing at the man out of the corner of your eye. "You up for a scavenger hunt?"

Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @apolloroid @thatweirdoleigh @misswe03 @eat-cake @felinegrate @trikigirl271 Hey there, people of the internet! If you want on or off the tag list for this series and/or all my other works, just send me a DM to let me know! And if Tumblr won't let me tag you, I'll just send you a friendly DM reminder at your request. Thanks for reading!

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Bite Me, Jeon | JJK | (m)

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

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

☾ Word Count: 19,376

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

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

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

☾ Published: May 7, 2022

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

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

Masterlist | Ask |

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nerd shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spit it out,” Jimin whines.

So you do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think it’s a strain of vampirism.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sus.”

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

“So we’re going to fight?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was interesting and on brand for your paper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to know if I’m right!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not crying, Jeon.”

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

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

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

“We?” You sniff, laughing slightly.

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

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

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

“Oh, Indy…”

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

“That isn’t true at all.”

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

“You are to me, if that counts.”

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

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

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

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

“Blood tests?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even if she is still giving less than ideal compliments.

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

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

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

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

“I heard that!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Welcome to Nightshade, Miss L/N.”

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

“Oh,” you breathe out. “Okay.”

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

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

“No,” you protest. “Let’s do this.”

“Even if it’s a sex club?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We already did that.”

“No. Let’s dance.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook.

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

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

Taehyung.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He knows my name.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know us.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re fucked.

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

“Compulsion,” Jungkook offers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That seems incredibly non-consensual.”

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

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

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

You glare. “I have no more questions.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean, abilities?”

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

“How does one make vampires?”

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

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

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

“So the plague?” You ask.

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

“Another breed?”

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So why turn Jungkook?

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

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

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

“You want access.”

He lifts a shoulder. “Maybe I do.”

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

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

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

“Y/N,” Jungkook murmurs.

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

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

What he’s done to Jungkook. Not you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n.”

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

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

“I…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No we don’t need anything.

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

No you can’t come over.

Yes you can send me the notes for class.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s fair. It’s what’s right.

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

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

What you had.

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

But there’s nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To say sorry.

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

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

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

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

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

“Indy, it’s okay to cry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s helping you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not,” you whisper.

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

“Jungkook-”

“I shouldn’t be here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby…”

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

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

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

“Will it help?” you whisper.

“Hmm?”

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

“I haven’t fed from a person.”

“How… do you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That feels nice,” you sigh.

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t have them earlier?”

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

“And?”

“Aroused.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was different. That was physical.”

“So you only like me physically?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

“Want you.”

“Want me where?”

“My pussy, Jeon. Just do something.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sensitive,” you whine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You explode.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? Still want me?”

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Condom?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You want to drown in Jungkook.

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

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

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

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

“Yes yes yes yes.”

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

“Pervert- fuuuuuck Jungkook.”

“Cum for me, yeah?”

You nod and whisper, “Bite me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hesitate. “I was kind of mad.”

“I see. And now?”

“Jury is still out.”

He chuckles. “Love you, Indy.”

“Love you, Jeon.”

Dear Miss L/N,

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

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

Warmest Regards,

The Director of Acquisitions

Ilum Agency

Sector 11

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

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historia-vitae-magistras · 1 month

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This is a little different from your usual content. But you have so much niche information that just I love to hear about. Do you have any podcast recommendations?

WHOO okay so I'm doing my nonfiction podcast recs and leaving out my horror or audio dramas but without further ado:

It's been out of production for years, but Caustic Soda is probably my favourite of all time. It's a small Canadian production of tons and tons of episodes on everything from shark attacks to murder to warfare to bugs and anthropology. It's so fucking funny and pretty well-researched as time goes on. Honestly, I was so young listening to this that it formed part of the lens through which I view the world.

Stuff You Missed in History Class: Often corny, wee bit lame, occasionally hilarious, always solid; this one is probably the one that has taught me the most. It's been on the air forever now, and it's really fucking great. They have also used sources that I actually dug out and made public for the first time and I'm quite proud of that. Its the favourite sweater of podcasts.

Time to Eat the Dogs is about the history of science and exploration. I highly recommend it if you like any of those things. I really like the host's interview style; all the guests are academics and authors. It's very conversational and feels like having a lovely sit-down with good friends, but those friends have Ph. Ds.

Casting Lots: Two really, really funny Brits discuss survival cannibalism across time and space. This podcast informed me that a story i heard as a fireside tale was based on true events. It somehow manages to mention Canada in every other episode and then some. I love the first three seasons in particular. They have truly done some incredible work in the course of their series and pulled from some primary sources that surprised even me, an actual archivist. They're shockingly respectful for how funny they are and how disturbing the content is and really take into consideration things like culture, empire, sex and racism as they discuss cannibalism, and it's just. I love it so much, truly.

Big Old Boats: It's not technically a podcast, but I've never once in my life actually watched the video as he discusses various maritime disasters, and I don't think I've ever missed anything by doing so. This is an absolute must-listen if you enjoy maritime history, missing ships, ghost ships, or just anything weird related to a boat. Archival work I did is actually mentioned in a couple of episodes!

Not What You Thought You Knew: Another podcast I really love that was, unfortunately, a very short run but academics and actual historians debunking popular historical myths. I am very, very fond of the episodes on The Night Witches in particular.

The Midnight Library: Last but not least my favourite fucking podcast currently running. It's a nonfiction podcast framed as a fictional witch/librarian in her cursed library telling (mostly) true stories around a particular theme, human vice, or any number of stories. And the way it's framed is so fucking great. Like they're talking about real history, witchcraft and folklore in so many of these, but you get little glimpses of world-building that have honestly started to bleed into the way I write. Even the ads are for fake magical businesses like 'the League of Lady Grave Diggers, the Broom and Fang pub. The library assistant/bouncer is a werewolf. The Witch's on-again and off-again boyfriend is a spring-heel jack. It's just so fucking clever a way to frame a nonfiction podcast in a spooky atmosphere while being historical, terrifying and funny in turns.

Anywho, if you listen to any of them let me know! And sorry if that went overboard!

#the ask box || probis pateo #not hetalia #sorry if that was too many

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useless-catalanfacts · 17 days

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I'm so happy to know you're actually an historian on top of holding that account for the community.🫶

I wanted to ask if you knew some ressources that covered what were different historic fashion in the different Catalan Countries, on different eras and centuries?

My main institute for research and learning is too limited on the subject, so I got redirected to online libraries.

Hi! 😁 Sorry it took me some days to answer, I've been very busy and I was waiting to get a moment to answer this from my computer because adding links from the app is a pain.

(This is secondary but first of all I wanted to say I'm actually an archaeologist and not a historian, I left that ask without specifying what I had studied in relation to history because I don't want to give much information about myself online lol, but I don't want to give wrong credentials either.)

I can give very limited information about this because it's not my area of study, sorry. I'm assuming for your blog description that the resources can be in Catalan, am I right? (because I don't know anything in English about this)

My first thought was the Virtual Museum of Fashion of Catalonia. They have digitalized pieces from different collections around the country. You can browse them by many different labels. But most of them are from the 18th century to nowadays, very few are older than that.

Then my second thought was that the collection Barcelona 1700 surely had one tome dedicated to clothing, and of course they do! It's this book:

Barcelona 1700 is a collection of books about different topics of life in the Early Modern Period in Barcelona, each of them written by historians (or other scholars) specialized in that particular topic. If you're looking for 17th and early 18th centuries, you'll find it here.

You can also check past exhibits from the Valencian Silk Museum and you can find some information in the website of the Garnet Institute (Northern Catalonia).

For the 20th and 21st century, there are many more things. You can check the collection of the Design Museum or the Foundation Antoni de Montpalau which specializes in preserving fashion from the 20th century. And for an overview of seamstresses and fashion in the 20th century, there's this past exhibit from the Catalonia History Museum that continues to be available on their website: Moda i modistes.

If you look for specific time periods, you can probably find more articles or other sources of reliable information. I've checked to see if anything would come up with a quick search on Google Scholar and I found this PhD thesis titled "L'art de la indumentària a la Catalunya del segle XIV", this other PhD thesis titled "La indumentaria señorial femenina catalana del siglo XV y su reflejo en el arte", or this article "La indumentària tradicional d'Eivissa segons les aquarel·les de Joan d'Ivori", "Pasado de moda: una serie de ilustraciones de la indumentaria popular valenciana". I also found this article titled "Definició de dues tipologies de vestit a través del seu ús històric: la indumentària d'arrel tradicional i el vestit d'inspiració internacional" that cites many other books that could be useful to you: Indumentaria tradicional by Joan Amades (of course, how could Amades not have covered everything!), La indumentària civil catalana: segles XIII-XV by Isidre Marangues, Indumentària tradicional del Pallars by Ramon Violant i Simorra, El vestit tradicional d’Amposta. La seva època by Màrius Lopez Albiol, etc.

I don't know what level of analysis and accuracy you're going for, but maybe you can find it useful to take a look at historical recreation societies. Most of them here are from the Baroque period or the Civil War, but you can find them throughout all the Catalan Countries (various Miquelets groups in the Valencian Country and Catalonia come to mind, or the Le Temps du Costume Roussillonais in Northern Catalonia which reaches until the 1910s).

If there's any specific period of history that you're looking for, I can try to find more about that. All the articles I've linked in this post are open, so you don't need to access it through a university or research institution. I hope it's useful!

#ask #berkut-rigel #moda

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doyou000me · 3 months

Text

Part II: Historical Context and Hyung's Background

So… this is not what I was going to write for Part II. I was going to write about shame and the way we perceive/react to how society sees us. I was going to loop it back to Part I; “An excess of self-awareness was a disease in itself.” I was going to compare how the narrator, his mother and his boyfriend are all affected by it in similar and/or different ways.

And then I got to thinking about the boyfriend, mainly referred to as Hyung.

About two thirds into part II, we get Hyung's backstory and, without spoiling anything, it’s basically a chunk where the narrator name-drops a bunch of movements and incidents that are part of recent history in Korea. Most of it meant next to nothing to me, and I felt like I was missing out on a whole lot of context. So I did some preliminary google searching, realised I needed more historical context, and went to the library to borrow a book on Korean history. Then I started making a timeline. Then I went online and started googling specific movements and incidents. Then I got a headache.

[This is long, so I’m putting the rest of it under the cut. Also, this is about Hyung's backstory so, you know, spoilers about that.]

The chunk of a paragraph that started all this is this one:

“He had been part of the leftover student activist generation of the mid-nineties and after graduation had dipped his toes in the labor movement. The Misun-Hyosun incident demonstrations had also been during his time, as well as protests against the abolishment of the National Security Act and the anti-Chosun Daily movement…”

Student Activism in the mid nineties

Labour Movement

Misun-Hyosun Incident

The National Security Act

Anti-Chosun Daily Movement

That’s 5 historical events, all named in one paragraph without further explanation - likely because a Korean reader is expected to know what this all means. I am not a Korean reader and I have no idea what most of it means. It’s a lot. When I started reading about it, I realised it’s even more. As is often the case with history, a whole lot of things are connected, and many of these things connect all the way back to the Japanese occupation.

There are academic papers written on these things. There are books. I am a pyjama-clad person curled up on my couch with a book and an internet connection. Of course I decided to attempt to summarise and explain it all. What could possibly go wrong?

Disclaimer time: I am not a historian or, in any way, an expert on the subject. I’ve spent about a day and a half on this, and it’s not nearly enough. Also, I am paraphrasing to the extreme to make sure I don’t end up writing half a book. I hope it’ll serve as context for anyone reading part II who feels as context-less as I did, but if you actually want to know about any of these topics, I’d recommend doing some reading of your own. I’ll leave references at the bottom.

Also: content warning. This is really dark and really heavy history. Be warned, and take care of yourselves. Now:

Some massively paraphrased Korean history

Japanese Protectorate and Occupation (1907-1945)

Starting out as a protectorate treaty to challenge China’s power on the Korean peninsula and give Japan access to Korean ports, Japan took control of Korea in 1910. What followed was 35 years of repression and Koreans living under systemic racism as second class citizens in their own country. This included institutionalised erasure of the Korean identity. 85% of the Korean population lost their Korean names and were forced to take Japanese names. Many never learnt to write in Korean, only Japanese. Hundreds of thousands of Koreans were killed for protesting against the occupation. All higher positions within the country were given to the Japanese, and the Korean workers were paid half of what Japanese workers got. Towards the end (1931-1945) when Japan went to war with China and needed resources, 3,5 million Koreans were displaced, both within Korea and abroad to Japan and China. Many were forced into slave labour in mines where unsafe working conditions and 17-hour work days killed many. Women, many just teenagers, were made “comfort women” and forced into filthy, violent brothels to serve the Japanese soldiers.

Then WWII ended. Japan surrendered to the allied forces in 1945, packed up and left Korea. Korea was suddenly free.

Just as suddenly, there was no government and no regime. There was no leadership, and not just on the government level. Industries ground to a halt. Production stood still. Displaced Koreans moved back, leading to sudden overpopulation of urban areas. Nationwide unemployment was at 50% and criminal activity, homelessness and alcoholism rose.

American Occupation (1945-1949)

The US stepped in. Due to global tensions after WWII, they did not want Korea to fall into the wrong hands, and made a deal with the Soviet Union: they split Korea in two along the 38th parallel, and the US would get the south part while the Soviet would get the north part. The plan was for Korea to eventually regain independence. The split along the 38th parallel was not grounded in any social or geographical conditions. Farmland and manufacturing in the south was divided from fertiliser production, natural resources and energy production in the north. Families living on different sides of the border were divided.

The American leadership that was put in place had next to no time to prepare, barely any prior knowledge of the Korean history, culture or people and very limited interest in learning. The US leader, General Hodge, had little political or administrative experience, and initially tried to cooperate with the Japanese to help with the occupation (this, as you can imagine, did not go over well). Labour demonstrations born from the terrible conditions Korean workers had lived with were brutally repressed and seen as pro-communist. Racism led to the assumptions that the Koreans were incapable of organising and governing themselves. The National Security Law was established in 1948 with the purpose of arresting North Korean sympathisers and infiltrators.

In 1949, the US withdrew from South Korea, and South Korea was declared the independent nation of the Republic of Korea. The Soviet Union (officially) withdrew from the North - while also helping North Korea, along with China, to build up their military. In June, 1950, the North Korean army marched over the border on the 38th parallel and invaded South Korea.

The Korean War (1950-1953)

On one level, the Korean war was about North Korea invading and trying to take over South Korea, turning all of the Korean peninsula into one Korea. On another, global level, it was a cold war power play between the US and the Soviet Union with South Korea, the US and the UN on one side and North Korea, the Soviet Union and China on the other. Both sides tried to take all of the Korean peninsula. Both sides failed. After three years of war, where foreign soldiers fought in a foreign land and Koreans fought Koreans, nothing was gained. In 1953, the border on the 38th parallel was reestablished. The entirety of the Korean peninsula had been bombarded and razed to the ground. Everything needed to be rebuilt. North and South Korea were among the poorest countries in the world and millions were still separated from their families by the border.

34 000 American soldiers were killed. 140 000 South Korean soldiers were killed. More than 640 000 North Korean soldiers were killed. Over one million Chinese soldiers were killed. Some 3 million Korean civilians were killed. And nothing was gained.

South Korea Under Military Dictatorship (1953-1960, 1961-1987)

So, with hunger, spreading disease and homelessness, with cities in ruin, orphaned children on the streets and widows left to fend for themselves in a country where women were not seen as independent citizens at the time, President Rhee and the Liberal Party won the elections in May 1954, making Rhee the first Korean president. They worked to turn the economy around through the use of five year plans as well as grants and loans from the US and secured national safety with an agreement with the US to place troops in Korea indefinitely - troops that are still present today.

They also turned the democracy into a dictatorship when Rhee risked being voted out of office. Elections were rigged and political opponents silenced. The National Security Law (according to which anti-state groups and those who disturb the national order can be imprisoned) was used to silence and root out opponents. Student protests were regularly held against the violations on democracy and corruption in the Rhee administration. After Rhee’s fourth presidential reelection in 1960, the opposing party rejected the results and student-led protests erupted in Masan, quickly spreading to the rest of the country. This became the April 19 Revolution, which led to Rhee going into exile.

An election was held and a new president was chosen.

The next year, in 1961, General Park led a military coup and took power, claiming that South Korea - amidst strikes, protests and student and left-wing groups discussing immediate reunification with North Korea - was not yet ready for democracy. They focused on economic growth, successfully turning South Korea’s economy around and, on the way, making the chaebol into some of the wealthy conglomerates we know from kdramas. They also focused on improving the relationship with Japan, leading to major protests.

They also cracked down on all opposition. Less than a month after the coup, the KCIA was established - for decades, the KCIA investigated, arrested, tortured and assassinated South Koreans who were accused of being North Korean sympathisers, suspected of supporting communism or seen as a threat to the regime. Gradually, the dictatorship became more and more repressive, with crackdowns on freedom of speech, increased power for the KCIA and martial law being imposed. Student activist protested, demanding a return to democracy, and workers protested with them, demanding better wages and working conditions.

In 1979, Park was assassinated.

General Chun took over, appointing himself director of the KCIA and continuing the military dictatorship, but by this point the people had had enough. Starting with university students in Gwangju, thousands of people in the city gathered to demand a return to democracy. The protest lasted from May 18 to May 27 of 1980, and became known as the Gwangju Uprising. It ended in violence, when the Chun regime isolated the city and went in with tanks and paratroopers. 150 were killed, over 4 000 wounded, thousands arrested - both protesters and citizens simply living their lives in the city. After that the relationship between the regime and the people was strained, to say the least, and anti-American sentiment sky-rocketed as people associated the US forces with the violent crackdown in Gwangju.

It was during this time that “Hyung” was born, in 1979, because yes, this post is still about LitBC Part II, and this all started because I wanted to understand his background better. Hyung lived his first years under a military dictatorship, where the people were under constant threat from the KCIA, student activist groups continuously struggled to regain democracy and anti-American sentiment was on the rise.

In 1987, as the next presidential election approached and with the Gwangju Uprising still fresh in memory, people doubled down on their protests. Led by students and workers, the June Democratic Struggle broke out on June 10 with people demonstrating across the country. It lasted until June 29 - in success, as the new president pledged that South Korea would have free, direct presidential elections. Democracy, for the first time in about 20 years.

Many changes were still needed in the country, but now the population could take to the streets and protest without fear of violent repercussions - and the regime listened. Wages doubled over a span of five years.

In 1997, the Asian Financial Crisis hit South Korea. Several Chaebols went bankrupt and 1988 became the worst year in the history of South Korean economy since the Korean War. (Go watch Reborn Ritch if you’re interested) Today, this is spoken of as the IMF crisis. Fortunately, South Korea recovered relatively quickly. To balance the country’s over-reliance on manufacturing, the government launched a campaign to support the entertainment industry, thus laying the ground for the Hallyu wave that would spread globally in the 2000s.

The 2000s

“Hyung” entered university in 1995, and would have graduated somewhere around the shift of the millennia, right as South Korea was recovering from the IMF crisis. Shortly after his graduation, the Misun-Hyosun Incident, Anti-Chosun Daily Movement and Protests against the abolishment of the National Security Act all happened within quick succession.

The Misun-Hyosun Incident, also known as the Yangju Highway Incident, occurred on June 13, 2002, in Yangju. Two South Korean schoolgirls, 14 year old Shim Misun and Shin Hyosun, were struck and killed by a US army vehicle on the way to a training exercise. Apologies were issued, but the drivers of the army vehicle were ultimately found not guilty by the US MIlitary court, sparking demonstrations across the country and fuelling the anti-American sentiment in South Korea.

The Anti-Chosun Daily Movement can be traced back to the early 1990s. The Chosun Daily, or Chosun Ilbo, is one of the main newspapers in Korea. It is a conservative newspaper and has historically had a very close relationship with the ruling regime, military dictatorships included, which brings into question its role in a democratic country of free speech. With the rise of more progressive online journalism, the criticism against the Chosun Ilbo has increased and people have gathered online to raise their voices, leading to boycotts and an anti-Chosun manifesto being written. In 2002 the movement became an important part in Korea’s development as a progressive country and was a contributing factor to the media reform that followed.

Protests against the abolishment of the National Security Act broke out in 2004, when the then leading political party called for its repeal. This National Security Act/Law is the same one that was established in 1948 to catch communists and North Korean sympathisers, and was then used by the Rhee regime to silence political opponents (are you still with me?). When the law was about to be repealed, a newspaper poll found that 66% wanted the law revised but not repealed, while a majority would rather keep the law as was than have it abolished on grounds that it helps keep the country’s economic stability. The constant threat of North Korea is a very real factor to why people see the law as necessary. Amnesty International has called for the law to be fundamentally reformed or abolished, as it challenges freedom of speech.

Ok. Deep breath.

If you’re still reading, I applaud you. If I lost you somewhere along the way, you won’t see this but I do understand you. As I hope you understand, this is all very condensed. The history of Korea is very complex and much of what I have written about are still sensitive issues today. I’ve tried to keep close to my sources to avoid getting anything wrong, but I am sure there are many, many more movements and issues that would need to be covered to present anything close to the full picture. Still, I hope this has given some insight into the background of “Hyung” and the past that has shaped him into the character that he is.

When I read part II, I did not understand his character. I dismissed him as some conspiracy-reading guy living in a basement keeping a tinfoil hat somewhere, and when our narrator dismisses and downplays his story, I was fully onboard. Now, after a full day of reading up on the historical context and political climate that “Hyung” must have grown up in, I understand his paranoia and reluctance to interact with anything American far more. It leaves marks, having lived in a time when the KCIA could drag you off the street for speaking up against the government, never to be seen again.

Times have changed in South Korea and they’ve come a long way, but the recent past is still very recent and they still have a long way to go before old wounds can be healed and damage done can be cleared up. All it takes is watching a few kdramas, and it’s clear that general distrust in politicians and the legal system is still around. Apart from a better understanding of a character in a book, it’s shed some light on my own naive ignorance and lack of understanding when it comes to some Korean attitudes and reactions I’ve encountered in the past. Some things I frowned at then, I now understand.

Apart from Reborn Rich, which plays out between 1987 and today with its main focus on the financial crisis, I have not watched dramas depicting this part of Korean history (I have avoided them, because the subject matter was very heavy simply to read about. I do not think I could handle watching it dramatised). Neither have I found any good documentaries covering it. If you have recommendations that you’d like to share, please do.

Now, as promised: sources!

Historical background and context: Korea; A New History of South and North by Victor D. Cha and Ramon Pacheco Pardo (2023)

Most of this post is based on this book, and if you’re interested in 20th century Korean history, I’d really recommend it. It’s a surprisingly easy read.

Misun-Hyosun Incident/Yangju Highway Incident: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yangju_highway_incident

National Security Act: https://wilj.law.wisc.edu/wp-content/uploads/sites/1270/2012/02/kraft.pdf

Anti-American Sentiment: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anti-American_sentiment_in_Korea

Anti-Chosun Movement: https://www.academia.edu/86931794/The_Anti_Chosun_Movement_Journalism_Activism_Politics_and_Historical_Memory_in_Post_Authoritarian_South_Korea_1998_2002

Student movements in Korea: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Student_movements_in_Korea

Internet activism in South Korea: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Internet_activism_in_South_Korea

National Intelligence Service: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/National_Intelligence_Service_(South_Korea)

@lurkingshan I'm not sure if this counts as meta or goes as a context-post, so I hope it's okay I'm tagging you

#litbc book club #love in the big city part II #when my interest in everything Korean overcomes my general disinterest in history

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why-what-no · 2 years

Text

Councils And Picnics

Pairing: Elrond (RoP) x Elven!Reader

Notes: RoP young Elrond is literally one of my favourite boys and I <3 him

Request: “What do Elrond & the reader do together as lovers in their daily lives”

Requested by: @writing-fanics

The sun shone over their face as (Y/N) stepped through the meadow, long elven hair moving slightly in the breeze. It was a beautiful morning, the type where they wanted to spend the entire day outside, unwinding with their lover, Elrond.

In search of him, they found the Elf in that same meadow, resting against a large tree branch. When he wasn't in his office or his chambers, he could always be found hidden away beneath the leaves of that twisting tree.

"Good morning." (Y/N) called out with a wide smile, getting his attention.

Elrond's expression was delighted when he saw who had found him. "My love." He slid off the tree, striding closer to take (Y/N)'s hands in his. "I thought you were spending this morning assisting in the library."

"It appears they didn't need a historian after all. At least until tomorrow."

"So you have been freed for the day." He leaned in to kiss them. "Any plans?"

(Y/N) nodded. "I was thinking of taking a walk through the gardens, I haven't been able to visit in some time. Care to join me?"

The gardeners' work was a breathtaking sight. (Y/N) had regretted spending so much time on work and not appreciating the beauty near them.

But their lover's happiness was clouded slightly. "I have a council meeting in less than an hour, I fear I cannot accompany you."

That put a damper on their plan.

"Very well, will you be finished before sundown?" (Y/N) relaxed slightly when he nodded, glad that they would be able to spend some time with their lover. "Then, we can go then."

Elrond's lovely smile returned. "I look forward to it."

***

(Y/N) was waiting for their lover outside of the council room, a large basket on the bench beside of them. Watching as the ornate doors opened as Elven lords and politicians let, moving past (Y/N) to continue on with each of their days.

Elrond and High King Gil Galad exited the chamber, noticing (Y/N) waiting.

"(Y/N). I hope you are well." Gil Galad spoke to them. They were fairly friendly with the wise king, having met Elrond because they had been helping Gil Galad with a project.

"I am, Your Grace, thank you. I hope you are, as well." They responded respectfully, and he nodded in return. Leaving them to speak with their lover.

"I don't suppose it would be possible for us to stop by the kitchens before we visit the gardens?" Elrond asked, offering them his arm.

(Y/N) held up the basket, filled with their late lunch. "I had them pack a picnic." They told their love, taking his offered arm.

Chuckling, Elrond leaned over to press a kiss to their cheek. "Of course. I should have expected you to be prepared for anything, my love."

The garden really was beautiful, just as (Y/N) had expected. They sat on a blanket in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by the most beautiful flowers they had ever seen. Elrond's arm was loosely wrapped over his lover's shoulder.

"I am glad you convinced me to join you on this outing." He mused, placing a piece of fruit in his mouth.

"So am I." They replied softly, looking around with a sparkle in their eye. So grateful to live in a peaceful and beautiful place such as Lindon, where the horrors of war were only a memory. "It's beautiful."

Looking at (Y/N), Elrond wanting to tell them that while the garden was beautiful, no flowers compared to the beauty he saw when looking at his lover every day. But he kept quiet, choosing instead to look gently as their awe at the sights in front of them.

He looked forward to finally asking them to marry him, wanting to be bondedd to (Y/N) for the rest of his life. But for the moment, he allowed himself to relax in their presence.

Not wanting to be anywhere except for by their side.

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racefortheironthrone · 11 months

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Please innumerate for us the specialized problems of the library sciences.

Let me start with the caveat that my information is based on my experiences at the National Archives more than a decade ago, and policy has definitely changed on this front as we can see from this graph of recent digitization - apparently NARA wants to get to 85% digitization by 2026. (Even still, I'd note that the records of the WPA are <0.001% digitized.)

However, back when I was doing the research that would eventually become my first book, I remember being at the National Archives II building in College Park, Maryland (Go Terps!) and getting really frustrated that all the records of the WPA were only available in their original physical form and that all the guides and indexes were also in paper only and were all from the 1970s, and I asked the archivist why the hell the National Archives hadn't been digitized already.

This is what they told me: if it's handled correctly and stored in the right environmental circumstances, paper can last a thousand years. Carbon copies can last even longer, if they don't rip. (Seriously, the bastard things are like onion skins, they'll split if you look at them funny.) Microfilm is slightly more technologically advanced than paper, but it only lasts 500 years in the right conditions.

We've only had computers en masse since the 1980s, and already there's a huge amount of records (especially from the early years) that we don't have any more, because the hard drives got re-formatted due to higher costs of storage space back in the day, or because old computers got thrown out when they were replaced by newer models and the hard drives are all rotting in landfills somewhere, or because backwards compatibility broke down and we just can't read those file types on our modern computers, or because the actual data got corrupted on the disc, or because some legacy company is asserting copyright against a video game museum, or because some political hack and/or president of the United States decided to violate the Presidential Records Act.

While we thought that the internet would cause an explosion of written records from ordinary people on the scale of the advent of mass literacy, there are vast swathes of the early internet that simply do not exist any more because the servers got switched off when Geocities et al. folded in the dot-com bubble burst or when everyone migrated to Web 2.0, and the Internet Archive tries its best (bless its heart, affectionately) but it can't be everywhere and save everything.

As a result, the archivist told me, digitization is a fraught question: what file format do we use? How do we know that file format will still be compatible and backwards-compatible in 50 years? 100? Longer? Do we keep everything locally or store it on the cloud, and how do we ensure that the storage mechanisms won't fail if there's a blackout or a virus or whatever? Do we digitize everything now, or do we wait until optical character recognition improves enough to the point where digitized records can be searched for words and phrases? Etc.

Keep in mind, I am a public policy historian who studies the 20th century U.S - I work primarily with the official records and the central archives of the richest government in the world. From a library sciences perspectives, this is kind of an ideal scenario, and it's still kind of fucked up. (Let me tell you, the rage and grief I felt when I learned that most of the General File of the Public Works Administration was thrown away by the National fucking Archives and Records Administration in the mid-1950s because they were running out of shelf space in the D.C location and didn't think these records were important...)

Now imagine what it's like at a local historical society or a small liberal arts college, or the national museum of a developing nation for that matter, who do not have the resources for the kind of grand digitization project that NARA started doing five years ago. Think of the sheer scale of historical records that sleep, unseen and untouched perhaps for decades and perhaps for ever, in little cubbyholes all across the world. Among professionals, historical records are measured in linear and cubic feet - think about that for a second, how many pages of paper there are in a foot when you stack them up, and how many hundreds and thousands and millions of feet there are across the face of the world. Think of all the millions of feet of pieces of paper that have been lost to us because of fire or rot or war or time itself.

This is why Peter Turchin is a quack. Historical records are not a standardized little database for social scientists to plug their fucking spreadsheets into; historians don't play that kind of bullshit t-ball, with all our data neatly packaged and handed to us on a silver platter. Our profession is not a social science, it's a goddamn treasure hunt through boxes that were never catalogued or categorized (or that were re-catalogued so many times no one remembers how they were put together in the first place) to find writing that no one has read since the authors died. All of us know that our work, our understanding, will always be partial and limited, because memory is infinitely fragile and the very idea of historical preservation is a mad existential defiance of entropy itself. These records are real, they are fragile - to hell with the Library of Alexandria, remember the National Museum of Brazil? - and they are all that is left to us of the dead.

#history #library sciences #archives #digitization #historiography

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ancientromesims4cc · 6 months

Text

Ancient Rome - Sims 4 CC (1/5 - Buy Mode)

Living / Kitchen / Bedroom / Bathroom / Children / Sets - - -

Hi friends,

Since I started to play with the Sims 4 trying to recreate Ancient Rome, I wanted to put in a single place all the CC I found (for myself, first of all, and for anyone who might find the list useful).

I am a historian of the Ancient World, so I am quite obsessed with historical accuracy (not excessively!)

I will continue to update the posts with my finds. Feel free to send me suggestion to add to the list.

Clothes / Hairstyles / Accessorie are here. Build mode / Deco for floors / Architectural elements are here. Hobbies / activities and mods are here. Decorations are here

Buy Mode:

Living / Seating / Tables Simple bench with cushions by mammut Low table and chairs by @felixandresims Muse Luxury Set converted from TS3 Egyptian Rustic Couch by bekahluann Ancient Greece Living from TS2 by @historicalsimslife Bookcases in the Katvip's Library by @historicalsimslife Colonial Set by felixandresims Colonial Set Part 2 by felixandresims Folklore Set Off The Grid Living by Lili's Palace Colonial Coffee Tables by @thejim07 Scribe Set by TSM Carved and gilded beech seat by TheJim07 Demeter's End Table by TheJim07 Der Durchbruch by mammut TheJim07 Pseftia Papyrus Scrolls by KyriaT Zakros Living Room Set by KyriaT The Medieval Bench by Tadala Orjánic Part 2 by House of Harlix Villa Set by @kerriganhouse The Witcher Common Furniture by @thesensemedieval Zoe Sofa by soloriya Adjana Loveseat by soloriya

Kitchen / Pantry Ancient Roman Kitchen Set by @balkanikabg Thermopolium Set by @balkanikabg (with Wallpapers!) Rustic Country Set by soloriya Shelves and functional fridge by @thesensemedieval Clay Oven Grill by @simsnowtato Rustic Retail by simspaces Autumn Pantry by simspaces Loarre Kitchen by Pilar Loarre Kitchen Decor by Pilar

Bathroom / Baths Tarox Medieval Toilet Early Civ. Bathroom by mammut Early Civ. Bathroom 2 by mammut Washbasin by mammut Tristan Bathroom by angela Early Civ. Sink by mammut Outdoor Hot Tub Set by NICKNAME_sims4

Bedroom Wooden canopy simple bed frame by @peacemaker-ic Single bed by mammut Single bed 2 by mammut Double bed by mammut Wooden endtable by mammut Bed and endtable by mammut Straw Peasant Bed by VII Dresser by mammut Barn Furniture by simverses Hinterlands Bedroom Bed Frame by peacemaker-ic Cozy knits Bedding by @peacemaker-ic Modest Luxurious Bedding by peacemaker-ic Raphus Double Bed by wondymoon

Children Wooden infant crib by mammut Wooden toddler bed by mammut Wooden toddler bed bunk by mammut Cradles by simverses Old toy by mammut Paddling pool by mammut Wooden kiddie pool by Naunakht Wooden Wabbit Tablet for toddlers by Naunakht "Less Modern" Activity Table Recolor by @reese4sims4 Paixnidi Infant Playmat by KyriaT Decorations are listed in detail here.

Sets Fish, Meat, Vegetables SKYRIM Market by Mara45123 Ye Medieval Paesant Homelife 1 by simbishy Ye Medieval Paesant Homelife 2 by simbishy Ye Medieval Paesant Homelife 3 by simbishy Ye Medieval Paesant Homelife 4 by simbishy Rustic Farmhouse Furniture by simbishy Big Barn Set by simverses Folklore: Homestead by @lilis-palace Intarsia Heirloom by @lilis-palace

#sims 4 #sims 4 cc #sims 4 historical #sims 4 history challenge #sims 4 ancient rome #sims 4 custom content #sims 4 roman times #ts4cc #s4cc #ts4

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