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#sunset curve edit
jukeboxtheatre · 1 year
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Julie’s instagram: *a picture of luke*
Julie: My boyfriend. Thoughts?
Alex: And prayers 🙏
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robo-dino-puppy · 7 months
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horizon forbidden west | talanah 18/?
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97studio-edits · 3 days
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Make-up palette inspired by Julie and the Phantoms. 👻💜
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hopeurokays · 2 years
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beautiful beautiful beautiful
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pink-flame · 2 years
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Rose Diaz (later Molina) cover/article in Scene Magazine, 1995.
I've been wanting to do another magazine project for awhile and once I got the idea in my head to do one for Rose set in the We Found Wonderland timeline I had to do it. I picture this article as coming out in an LA specific magazine (less polished than the big name publication Julie was interviewed by in the bodyguard au) a few months after Julie returns to the future in the original timeline she will later reset with the help of Not Willie.
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stellarspecter · 2 years
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Bobby Shaw Trevor Wilson + Survivor’s Guilt, Aka, The Moon’s Lament by Emily Axford
And I have spent my days Seeking out your praise That's over now God, it's such a shame The universe is lame without you, now
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bat-myriam-love · 1 year
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Debería hacer más edits como este jajska
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scribeofnight · 2 months
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⸝⸝ ꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋, 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃. 🫧ㆍ₊⊹
✦ 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 ;; rafayel x gn!reader ✦ 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾 ;; fluff, pure fluff and brainrots, not fully coherent thoughts ✦ 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 ;; 0.7k ✦ 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝖻𝖾'𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 ;; obsessed and thinking about husband rafayel 24/7 - so a little filler drabble while i finish up the zayne oneshot and before i go to bed. enjoy my seashells <3 (currently can't add my yellows - i'll edit the format tomorrow)
✦ 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘦 (𝘧𝘪𝘤/𝘩𝘤𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯!!) ♡.
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⟢ husband! rafayel who makes sure there's always a place for you to sit or lay down on when you're in the room watching him paint
⟢ husband! rafayel who smears paint on your cheeks while you're sleeping, only to feel bad and paint a small sunset or ocean or sunrise or the sky or anything, really, across your cheeks
⟢ husband! rafayel who will trace miscellaneous shapes on your collarbones and shoulders - connecting every freckle and mole
⟢ husband! rafayel who looks at your stretch marks and kisses them gently, tracing every curve and smiling up at you, stopping to only tell you how much they look like stardust
⟢ husband! rafayel who would cave when you give him puppy eyes and a pout - he's weak for you, he knows
⟢ husband! rafayel who once reserved a whole restaurant because he remembered you saying you don't like eating in front of a lot of people, just so you would be comfy on your date night
⟢ husband! rafayel who would collect seashells everyday as he walks on the beach with you, telling you stories about his adventures when he was a little kid in lemurian waters; placing them in a tiny jar that he gives to you - and his grin is so blinding and hug so warm and kiss so tender when he sees it on your desk and in your bag.
⟢ husband! rafayel who thinks you look exceptionally pretty in pearls, but he thinks you're ethereal when you're in his bed, curled up around him, bed hair and sour breath and all
⟢ husband! rafayel who grew fond of cats because of how much you love them - who fell in love with the way you looked and loved cats, and could never think of cats as harmful ever again (especially when you look at them like how you look at him)
⟢ husband! rafayel who buys you dresses upon dresses, if only to see you wear them and spin around like the disney princess you deserved to be but couldn't affort to be
⟢ husband! rafayel introducing you to little fishies during a swim in the ocean, calling you his wife and watching with awe as the fishes boop your nose and circle you two, guiding you both through the waters to the prettiest coral reef ever
⟢ husband! rafayel who lets you see his silvery scars from fighting for his kingdom, letting you trace them even though he flinches from the memories - only soothed by your fingertips and gentle kisses to his skin, your calloused thumbs wiping away falling tears
⟢ husband! rafayel dedicating a whole exhibit with every painting of everything you've ever loved and liked, with the centerpiece as both of you dancing at the banquet, with the words "for my ocean" as its caption
⟢ husband! rafayel who has never thought of having kids until he took one look at you with your nephew, and decided he wanted some then and there
⟢ husband! rafayel who brings you trinkets and tidbits from wherever he travels to, be it in Linkon or overseas, because every little thing reminds him of you (he'd rather live with your memory and you by his side than have to lose you again)
⟢ husband! rafayel that would not let you go anywhere without him - he knows you can defend yourself, but he wants to be able to see you and touch you just in case; he likes protecting you (if only to make up for all the time that he wasn't there to protect you - could you blame him? he wanted you to forget, he was sure you would)
⟢ husband! rafayel that would cook for you when you return home from work, shit-faced and weak, wobbly, exhausted legs - who would feed you and hold you close as your words slurred, a fond smile on his face as he squished your cheeks, watching you fall asleep, your features so beautifully calm and peaceful
⟢ husband! rafayel who never wants to see you cry, but would sit there on the bathroom floor at 5am, wiping your tears away when memories of you both together centuries ago flooded your mind, his heart aching as he watched you cry over not remembering him when it really was his fault
⟢ husband! rafayel who would hold your hair back when you didn't like the way it felt, tying it up into a bun and decorating it with little seashell clips so you felt pretty
⟢ husband! rafayel who would see his child hold a paintbrush, painting a very wonky looking apple and sing with glee - who would frame the apple painting and title it "[child's name]'s first painting"
⟢ husband! rafayel who would tell his child how wonderful of a mother you are, spinning the baby around before he tucks the baby onto his hips, holding her close
⟢ husband! rafayel who would rest his forehead against yours at least 5 times a day, loving the peace and love that radiates from you, seeping into him and soothing his bones, a quick kiss on your lips sealed the deal
⟢ husband! rafayel who always tells you that he's glad to finally be yours, to kiss you and hold you close
⟢ husband! rafayel who looks at you like you hung the moon and stars when you tell him you love him
⟢ husband! rafayel who is just so happy you come home to him everyday
♡. head empty only husband rafayel.
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✧˖°. header creds ;; @editshan <𝟑
♡₊˚ 🪼・ copyright @scribeofnight all rights reserved ;; do not copy, steal, plagarize, reword or repost to other platforms without proper permission || all credits to original owners and creators of the characters from the media + pictures that are not my own.
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pennyblossom-meta · 2 months
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Analysis of the romance in Death Note's Spiraling Trap game.
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EDIT 02/03/2024: minor edits and fixes, added a few imgs and extra content.
A huge thank you to the folks over at agtteam who translated L - the ProLogue to Death Note: Spiraling Trap into English! Now we can all date L become FBI agents after hours.
I've been playing the game recently and one of the features I love the most is the L Communicator, which allows the main character (referred to as MC henceforth) to take a break from adventuring and listen to L talk about whatever is on his mind.
There's around one hundred different lines available as the MC develops a relationship with L and they paint him as such a sweet, attentive and thoroughly unique individual that I was surprised by how detailed it was. If you're thinking about playing, then this part is definitely worth putting effort into.
The mechanics of the dating sim are relatively simple: during the adventure, you'll pick up a number of recipes hidden among traps and tools. Then, Watari will provide the ingredients and you can give L whatever sweets he specifically craves. These recipes and cravings depend on the time of day and can be season specific.
Character analysis
As stated in-game, giving L sweets causes his appreciation for the MC to grow. However, L being L, means that he craves different sweets throughout the day. He's definitely very specific about what he likes and what he wants for his sugar fix.
However, if you give L something he isn't craving at that specific moment, he will sulk. The way he expresses his displeasure varies according to the depth of the budding relationship he has with the MC.
L: To tell you the truth, there are many other things I would have preferred. L: [F/N], I hate to say this, but I really would have preferred something else. L: F/N], you must know that I was hoping for something else, right? L: [F/N]… It’s not my favorite but, it made me really happy.
Note: Given that the books in the expanded universe (Another Note and L: Change the WorLd) came out before this game, I think some of the quotes further ahead might be a subtle nod to how L is perceived by the police forces as the "creepy murder detective". However, references about his piece of mind lead me to believe that L craves some respite from the burdens he carries on his shoulders — burdens so strong that they managed to curve his spine.
Note: I'm unsure how the system here works, as the MC also gets points for gaining L's trust in the actual adventure when they a) agree with his observations and b) find key objects hidden in unsuspecting places. It might affect the available lines through the L Communicator.
L: Today is going to be a better day… Let’s think positive. L: I wonder what kind of morning this will be. L: It seems the air outside is crisp this morning.
L: I want to finish what I need to get done before night falls. L: It’s nearly sunset. Time for children to go back home. L: If you just stare into space, night will be here before you know it.
L: It’s already evening… Time keeps passing me by. L: There’s something different about the air at night. L: Night-time, dusk… It’s the witching hour.
As a naturally introspective individual, L observes the world around him and draws conclusions. To my surprise, the game actually managed to capture how observant L is about small, unsuspecting details of daily life and give him a slightly poetic side laced with a hint of wistfulness that suits his character well.
This is a side of L in his private life that I personally wish we had been able to glimpse during the Kira investigation. Though, at the time, L was busy trying to prove that Light was, indeed, Kira. It left him little to no time to enjoy the world around him. During the brief time that L could have had a semblance of rest right before the Yotsuba arc, he was depressed that his deductions were "wrong" — though I could see him musing about some of the above, equal parts whimsy and sulking.
L: If I start to lose my touch… I guess I’ll retire. L: Another day, another mystery… L: I have a lot of thinking to do. L: I feel like doing some capoeira… L: I haven't played tennis for a while. L: The weather today is… Well, it matters not. L: I, um… No, ignore me. L: Am I reading too much into it…?
As a thinker, L has a lot of unfinished thoughts he says out loud. Some border on cliché, others are musings about things he'd like to do or that he's missing.
I wonder if some of his thoughts end up trailing off because, suddenly, he catches himself and believes they're not important? Or that he doesn't think the MC would be interested in what he has to say beyond work matters?
L: “In spring one sleeps a sleep that knows no dawn.” Though, too much sleep isn’t good for anyone. L: If you think about things persistently, noticing all the sides to them will come naturally. L: Strawberries… Despite the name, they aren’t actually berries. How berry disappointing. L: The one who has thought it through wins. It’s true for chess, and for deduction. But in the case of love… I don't know.
He's also a philosopher at heart, always thinking about the human condition. In these we can also witness his dry humour, silly puns along with a subtle desire to share his thoughts on the world and give helpful advice.
As for love, L is cautious but willing to learn. It's a topic where he's out of his depth.
L: Um, Watari is… L: I wonder if Watari’s asleep? L: What could Watari be up to? L: Today is Thanksgiving Day. I am truly grateful to Watari for his diligence.
I found it interesting how L's thoughts eventually go back to Watari and what he's doing. He's the one person that L relies on and whom he interacts with the most. Other people are passing acquaintances at best, who show little interest in L beyond work.
Notice how he mentions diligence? Although it is a utilitarian consideration, it also reveals a thankfulness for the comforts of familiarity and the peace of mind that trusting someone close brings. This is a topic we'll explore better at a later stage, i.e., how trust and acts of service work as a relationship builder.
Romance
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Neutral stage
One of the first things I've noticed is that, during the early stages of the relationship, L is still very formal and quite a bit dismissive — even borderline rude. As his sugar fix gets sated by the MC's keen suggestions (Watari provides the ingredients, of course), L grows gradually more fond of them and wants to include the MC in his life with an enthusiasm I can only define as endearing.
L: Aren’t you bored? You don’t have to check in on me. L: Don’t you have stuff to do?
At the beginning, L is still wary of the MC on a personal level as they have absolutely no rapport beyond a partnership of circumstance and usefulness in the name of justice. He's quick to get bored and doesn't take it very well when he's given sweets he isn't craving. A bit childish, one could say, the way he sulks when the MC errs by not reading his mind.
L: Did I enjoy it? Let me just say “no comment”. (about sweets that weren't quite to his taste)
It's also very in-character for L to feel both annoyed at someone who is randomly calling him and be suspicious of their motives.
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Growing interest
L: Spending the afternoon with you isn’t so bad. L: Even though it’s late, you’re not going to bed, huh? L: You must be a night owl, [F/N]. L: I’m a little curious about you, [F/N]. L: Are you having a good time? I’m just curious. L: You’re kind of… Ah, no, forget I said anything.
He starts addressing the MC by their first name as he becomes more enamoured. It's very sweet. I was pleasantly surprised at how attentive L becomes as he gradually comes to the conclusion that this is a person who understands him.
Mind, due to game mechanics the MC gains approval by giving L sweets, but from a narrative perspective what's really happening is that L not only feels seen and understood, but also accepted. And when that happens, he starts lowering his walls and relaxing.
As a plot device, I would say these are defining moments within L's thought process here; he's curious about the MC, finds them interesting enough to want to know more them and pursues that curiosity to see what they might have in common. It seems he's both a little baffled and content about this development.
L: [F/N], what do you think of when you see a sunset? L: What are you doing this afternoon? Oh, should I not have asked? L: Are you a night owl? Oh, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want.
It should also be noted that L is very mindful of boundaries. There's a tentative, almost shy attempt to connect. He's determined to indulge in his curiosity since the MC's attentiveness towards him shows an opening for closeness he's unused to (but is happy about) and to tend to his more immediate needs (i.e., food cravings), which in turn shows a genuine concern for him. Aside from Watari, I doubt anyone ever extended L similar kindness.
And it is in this determination to get to know the MC that I also find Mello's words (AA: LABB Murder Cases) that L is actually a very active, aggressive individual with absolutely no interest in social conventions perfectly represent him this game, as he navigates a growing fondness with expectation, curiosity and caution — on his own terms, while minding that he doesn't overstep.
L: Staying up late talking to you… It makes me feel calm.
I find it particularly heartbreaking how this confession of L unknowingly makes it more transparent how burdened he is. The spine curved by burdens unseen, the addiction to mind games and sweets; all of these point to stress factors which isolate him further, increasing the loneliness and lack of affection in his life.
That L feels the need to mention the MC makes him feel calm seems telling.
L: We’re both late workers, huh? That makes me happy. L: [F/N]… You’re pretty formidable. L: It’s reassuring to have a partner like you. You’re someone I can trust. L: Your feelings have been received. (Valentine's Day) L: The fact we’ve become so close was an unexpected development on my part.
And here it is, the acknowledgement just as L enters the highest stages of approval, where he expresses admiration and happiness at the close bond he developed with the MC.
"An unexpected development on my part" is quite the turn of phrase. One can only wonder, but I'd make an educated guess that L didn't see this coming because:
a) no one showed feelings towards him before. In his line of work, hidden behind a screen there is no time to indulge or get attached to anyone (he would mistrust their intentions anyway) and so L keeps everyone at arms length, sharing little more than a professional side of himself and fostering utilitarian relationships that help him win "games". L ultimately carries various burdens the average civilian would never be able to understand, all due to the pressure of his job. When failing at the "game of cat and mouse" means being responsible for the likely deaths of dozens, perhaps even hundreds or thousands, the stakes are up in unimaginable ways. What started as a thrill chase can have catastrophic consequences should L fail. That in itself alienates him from society at large. It's a game that L plays well and absolutely profits from, but it is also an indicative of two major flaws: his addictive personality and how he suppresses his emotions to carry on. Coincidentally, it's the expanded universe, in particular Another Note: LA BB Murder Case and L: Change the WorLd, that give us the best insight into this. This isn't too dissimilar to the struggles policemen face in high risk jobs or technicians who have to flag and delete sensitive content from online platforms. These people end up changed from what they see — and some carry traumas for the rest of their lives. That's not to say that L doesn't feel for others. He respects people whom he considers good or morally upstanding (Soichiro Yagami), who are competent in their line of work (Naomi Misora, Mogi), worthy of a second chance (Aiber and Wedy), who speak their minds, unafraid (Aizawa) or who are reliable, loyal to him as a person and not just his cause, in whom he can place his trust and feel secure won't betray him (Watari). The MC seems to fall mostly in the last category, though the relationship is rather precocious — and there seems to be a fair amount of wishful thinking and even projecting on L's part, since communication happens over a device connecting two people remotely. He falls both for the idea of the individual and their attentiveness towards him. When L mentions that they make him feel calm, I'd argue it comes both as a surprise to him and a confession of a closeness and safety he intimately craved — though I personally view L as someone who feels lonely and wanting healthy human contact, even if his social skills might not be the best (worsened by his distrust of people as a whole). Someone who ultimately is willing to adapt to him but whom he can adapt to, as well. Someone who sees him as a person and not an unfeeling robot. It's a POV that certainly challenges certain aspects of DN: Vol 13. I would further argue that L's portrayal has evolved significantly beyond the manga, and that his subsequent humanising is partially a result of the creative liberties the English translations took, as well as a more empathetic view of the character and hidden struggles. Each medium displays a separate iteration of L, with common variables.
b) L fosters distant relationships with others as a safety measure. Aside from Watari, L's contact with other people had always been distant, work-focused, perhaps even tainted by notions of his supposed creepiness as a kinky detective "who relished bizarre murders" (L:CtW). He's useful to the police because he achieves favourable results, though L is still viewed as "a human computer, capable only of measuring mass murders in terms of cold numbers, a reclusive sociopath" (L:CtW). He isn't necessarily liked; in fact, I would argue he rubs people the wrong way most of the time — as we can see during his interactions with the Task Force, during the events of Death Note. L is tolerated, a useful asset who is both mysterious and a pain to deal with. However, he's also put on a pedestal due to his status (i.e., Relight, the children at Wammy's). For the latter, he purposely shatters their idea of L as this unbeatable, paragon of justice by defining himself as a monster (anime), a dishonest cheating human being who hates losing (manga). I do share in lux-mea-lex's perspective on L doubting his own humanity and how it fuels a certain self-hatred for distrusting everyone around him. As lux mentions, "love comes with trust" and L is an excellent detective precisely because he questions everything and everyone — but it comes at a cost: his own loneliness. To draw a parallel, L's ultimate flaw — and that which makes him great at his job — is not unlike what we see during the moments of extreme anguish that Veronica Mars goes through in her personal relationships and which draw people away from her when she oversteps boundaries to prove she's not being lied to. That mistrust comes from experience, for people burdened with having seen too much and it's not unlike a kind of paranoia acquired when one has to deal with the worst of humanity on a daily basis.
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Full reciprocity
L: [F/N] you’re the light that illuminates the dark night. That’s an exaggeration of course, but… L: What I need to live is glucose… and to talk to you. Nourishment for my brain and heart. L: When we’re together, I feel like there’s no problem we can’t solve. L: The afternoons I get to spend with you are precious to me.
When the MC achieves the stage of full reciprocity with L, he's very open to showing vulnerability and lowering his emotional defenses. I found this to be particularly sweet, as L is such a secretive man with so many hidden layers that him being willing to show such honesty with that one person he holds dear is incredible character development.
Beyond the game, I would say that achieving this stage with L would be much more difficult and, naturally, would involve going beyond picking the best sweets for him.
Something important to keep in mind is that L seems to value acts of service, as the people who interact with him more closely have some utility value and aid his work. However, L's life revolves around his work; he lives and breathes his detective work, which is why having a partner who brings him peace would be so important.
L: The time I spend with you is as important to me as the sweets. L: Good morning. It makes me really happy to see you here. L: For your sake… I’d think of a way to get through anything. We share a bond. L: When you have time, I’d like to take you to a shop that makes the best sweets. L: When you’re free, how about we play tennis together? I will have Watari reserve a court. L: If something were to happen to me… I want you, as the person I hold dearest, to carry on the L moniker. L: When my thoughts hit a dead end late at night, I feel like I’m stuck in a maze. But, having you here makes me feel reassured.
I also found it very sweet how L takes the initiative to plan for activities to do together with the MC. And how their presence, their reassuring words make him feel at ease. It seems that a loving relationship would give L a goal in life beyond his work.
Carrying on the L moniker... this quote might be the result of L's trust in the MC growing during the events of the game, or a sentiment L nurtures due to the MC being attentive enough to understand his specific cravings. But being able to read L and having the mental dexterity to become him are different things, as the latter involves a lifestyle that few would want and a complete focus on work. Even FBI agents have lives beyond work.
L: I learned from you that sweets are the bond that brings people together. L: You give me true peace of mind. No one could ever replace you. L: The way I am now, I… I can’t think straight when you’re not around. L: Being able to share this sunset with you, I couldn’t ask for anything more. L: You understand, don’t you [F/N]? What my heart so strongly desires is something more… L: When I talk to you, I feel like my senses are sharpened. Thanks to that, my radar has become more sensitive.
What a sweet guy. I love how L focuses on the little things and just wants to spend time together with the person he holds dearest. It's almost as if he daydreams a close, loving relationship — a trait that clashes with L's logical side.
This game and the expanded universe of Death Note have convinced me that there are many more layers to L than what we can see in the main story.
As Fu Takahashi, who plays L in the 2020 Japanese version of the musical, said:
“(...) A common thing about L among these versions is that, despite his superficial image as a smart guy who hates losing, he actually feels lonely and needs affection, I imagine. Perhaps he is an orphan – his character suggests so. He tries to control his emotions, like the feelings towards his parents, or romantic feelings; that’s why he is sort of dependent on games or battles of the mind. So I want to play L while thinking about the foundations on which his personality has been formed.”
I think this quote and the game are actually very telling of L's core personality and how it moves beyond that cold, calculating persona that defines him in the manga. It's also more in line with the characterisation that we see in the anime and the books, which help humanise L.
As I mentioned elsewhere, learning how to trust and be comfortable around someone else would do L wonders. Though that person would have to accept him for who he is and help him learn how to navigate a healthy relationship.
Perhaps the true test of love, for L, would even be for him to be confronted with someone who knows who he really is and, is not only kind to him, but also sees the best in him — regardless of his flaws. I think that we've had a glimpse of it in this game and it's a breath of fresh air.
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kissingghouls · 11 months
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The Prince
Part One: The House //ao3 // Part Two // Part Three missed The Count or The King?
Vampire Terzo x Female Reader
Summary: An unconventional summer job turns out to be way more trouble than you thought. // Part 3 of the Suck Club Series 💕
tags: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, horror themes, vampire violence, violence, blood, smut, a dash of enemies to lovers, and more tags on ao3
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could not have done this without @ramblingoak. thank you for the encouragement, editing help, letting me cry sometimes, and making me pretty things. 💖💖💖
Part One – The House
This was not how things were supposed to go. Of all the worst-case scenarios you tried to prepare for, this was so far out of left field you hadn’t even considered it. It left you weak and vulnerable, sporting a split lip and bruised knuckles. This was definitely not how things were supposed to go. You blocked one blow and dodged the next, using the momentum to send the heel of your palm smashing into your attacker’s face.
Instantly, he dropped to his knees and wailed in pain. Blood gushed from his nose, pouring freely between his fingers and dripping onto the expensive rug.
“Terzo!” You shouted, trying to get the vampire’s attention. He didn’t even flinch.
Fuck.
Your opponent took the opportunity to dive at you, taking your legs out at the knees. Landing hard, the breath knocked painfully from your lungs as you hit the floor with a dull thud. He crawled over you, blood dripping from his face onto your clothes. That asshole actually smiled at you, teeth stained as crimson as the rest of his face as he brandished something shiny and sharp.
“What are you trying to do?” he asked as he pressed the metal stake into your sternum. He leaned into the weapon, the pressure pushing against your chest. “Are you trying to save him?”
Your answer was little more than a shout, the piece of metal now dangerously close to snapping the bone.
This was far from the summer you’d hoped to have.
A nice, relaxing summer job by the seaside. That’s what you were supposed to tell people you were looking forward to most. You even practiced it in the mirror a handful of times, trying to make your fake smile fit perfectly around the words. Trying to make your life look comfortably “normal” from the outside.
But “normal” didn’t weigh your backpack down with stakes and poisons. “Normal” got to vacation and play in the ocean, relaxing whenever it felt like it. You couldn’t relax until all this was over.
Until Terzo Emeritus was dead.
Outside the window, the tree line sped past, bright green smears against a cloudless sky as the train roared toward the tiny town. The car jostled slightly as the wheels followed the slow curve of the track, bringing you parallel with the southern edge of the coast. Further along the horizon, that brilliant blue dipped down to meet the ocean beyond the jagged, rocky cliffs that cut a harsh line against the shore. It was the kind of sight that probably looked amazing at sunset, but instead of picturing it you turned your eyes back to the screen in your hand.
“…the grandest of all the summer homes of the time: Meliora House. The Gilded Age estate rests on a breathtaking fifteen acre plot overlooking the ocean. The grounds are covered in spectacular gardens…”
You squinted at the image, tuning out the narrator’s droning voice. You’d seen the special a hundred times by now, knowing exactly when the angles of the shots changed and the timestamps for each room of the ridiculous mansion. The ballroom, the reception hall, the conservatory. Rooms encased by ridiculous amounts of marble and ornamental plaster designed to impress and shame every other asshole with money in the late 1800s.
What those magnates didn’t know, and the documentary failed to mention, was just how impossible it would be to compete with the Emeritus family. Back then, they were considered little more than a group of eccentric brothers who came from old money. As true as it was, no one realized how old the money and the brothers truly were. They’d had hundreds of years to amass the fortune required to build the most impressive house on the block and even more time left to enjoy it.
What did money matter when you would live forever?
The gentleman seated next to you leaned over the armrest and softly cleared his throat. “It’s closed.”
You slipped your headphones from your ears, quickly pausing the video to look over at him. “Sorry?”
“Meliora House,” he said with a kind smile. He was an older man with the kind of soft, wrinkled face that reminded you of your own grandfather. He pointed toward your phone as he continued. “The family closed it for the season. Said it needed renovations or something. Hope that’s not where you were headed.”
You shot him that perfect, practiced smile. “Oh, no. I’m afraid I’m here on business. No time to visit all those old mansions.”
“Ah,” he said with a nod. “What business are you in?”
“Extermination.”
“Heh, that like pest control?”
“In a way. I deal mainly with large predators. The kinds of things that are dangerous to the human population.”
He blinked. “Like…bears?”
“Something like that,” you agreed with another smile.
The breaks squealed below. The grinding sound of the train slowing to a stop thankfully cut off any other questions the man might have had. You slung your heavy backpack over your shoulders and gripped the handle of your suitcase until your knuckles went white. It was now or never.
The iron gate of Meliora House stood tall in front of you, a small, tasteful “closed for the season” sign dangling from the middle. You slipped through, following the tree-lined drive toward the house. It grew taller and wider with each step, its stone façade blotting out the sky. None of the usual adjectives suited the property. Grand. Stately. Ostentatious. All of them paled in comparison to the real thing.
Meliora House was built under the Emeritus family name, but it quietly changed hands in the 1920s. Shuffling the property through shell corporations over the last one hundred years was enough to make people believe the brothers who built the mansion were long gone. Like other mansions in the area, Meliora House was regularly used as a wedding venue and opened to tourists in the summer under the disguise of preserving the history of the grandiose home. Unlike the other homes, Meliora House was still under private ownership and had not been gifted to any preservation society. That small thread had been enough for you to unravel the history of the notorious vampire family over the last century.
As soon as they announced the house would not open for the season due to needed “repairs,” you knew exactly where at least one Emeritus vampire would be. It took a little more research to figure out which of them would take up residence in the old mansion. Secondo was heavily favored after word spread that his favorite club had burned to the ground. You were happy to play along with the idea, even encouraging others to believe it, but you knew he was far too flashy to find solace in the antiquated summer home. It was much more likely to be occupied by one of the younger Emeritus brothers.
Terzo and Copia leaned more old school than Secondo, both having heavy preferences for castles, chandeliers, and from what you heard, interesting clothing choices. But Count Copia had reportedly coupled up with a younger vampire and would most likely be returning to his castle for the summer, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake. That left only Terzo and his companion demons.
It was pure coincidence that you found the employment ad they’d placed. But it was a series of careful, calculated moves that secured you the position. You weren’t going to miss the chance to take out one of the brothers.
Inside, the mansion swelled around you, endless stretches of veined marble floors and archways leading to the kinds of rooms “normal” people had no use for. Even you had to admit the video hardly did Meliora House justice, getting the scale of the grandeur all wrong. It was a remarkable sight, like a relic stuck frozen in time, but you couldn’t help but think of all the other things unlimited riches could provide.
It was vastly different from the tiny one room loft you called home.
Ahead of you, the caretaker Omega rattled on as he’d done in the video, hands making broad sweeps as he spoke. Neither of you mentioned the odd silver mask that covered his face during your initial introduction or even during the assessment of your responsibilities. You saw no point in talking about it now either. Your resumé alluded to the fact that you had seen some weird shit in your time working for other prominent families with strict NDAs and you weren’t about to blow your cover in the first five minutes.
Another staffer, Alpha, sat at the bottom of the stairs with his masked head in his hands while somewhere above him glass shattered.
“Your turn,” was all Alpha said as he stood and moved past the two of you.
“What the hell are two still doing here?” a voice rang out angrily, echoing against the vaulted ceilings.
The three of you turned your attention toward the landing. The vampire wore little more than an annoyed look as he sneered at his demons, black hair framing his face as he rested his hands on his slim hips. Even half-dressed, he commanded the room in a way photos could never hope to capture.
“Well?” he huffed, his odd white eye seeming to glow with his irritation.
“We were just leaving,” Omega said quickly and spun around to head for the door.
Alpha caught him by the collar, keeping him from getting away. “This was your idea,” he hissed.
Terzo groaned. “You don’t need my permission. You have the summer off, just go. Get the fuck out.”
“Um, sir,” Omega started carefully with a nervous shake in his voice. “We—well, sir, remember how we talked before? It’s a lot of work to keep up the house and we thought—”
“He thought,” Alpha corrected.
“Right. Eh, well, this is the assistant I hired to help you.”
The vampire groaned and took a step to the side, leaning over slightly. His painted face was set in a frown as he squinted down at you, his actual expression unreadable. He crossed his arms over his bare chest and studied you a beat longer. He looked younger than you expected, the evidence a little more visible on his lithe frame than his face could show. A pair of grey sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips, but as he shifted his stance, they almost gave up completely. There wasn’t much of the vampire left to your imagination—the thatch of black hair and the very distinct outline of his dick were hard to miss.
Fucking vampires.
“Oh, come on,” Omega hissed and rushed up the stairs. He gripped the waistband of Terzo’s pants and yanked them up enough to cover his boss’s decency. “We talked about this.”
Terzo slapped his hands away and started shouting, the hint of his accent becoming stronger with his frustrated emotional state. “What is this? What are you doing? I put on pants. What more do you want?”
“Sir, please,” Omega pleaded. “We have company. This is why we have the pants rule now.”
“Why are you doing this? Who are you calling ‘sir?’ What the hell are you wearing?” he yelled and flicked the metal mask covering Omega’s face.
“I—we—”
“No. You get out of my house, now,” he ordered, pushing Omega away once more. He stomped down the stairs, pausing in front of you as he landed on the main floor. He tilted his head as he looked you over, eyeing you curiously, appreciatively. “You can stay.”
He turned on his heel and headed in the direction of the dining room without another word.
Alpha sighed and shook his head. “I’ll be outside.”
Omega approached you slowly, his voice low. “He’s…Mr. Emeritus has been under a lot of stress recently. I’m afraid he’s not himself. I apologize for his outbursts, but I don’t think I can guarantee it will be the last.”
“Omega, it’s fine. Really. He’s far from the first difficult client I’ve had,” you said with a slick smile.
His shoulders relaxed slightly. “He’ll probably keep to himself most of the time. Mr. Emeritus can be a bit peculiar about his privacy, so don’t be surprised if you don’t see him for a couple of days. He’ll show up eventually.” He leaned in closer to whisper, “I think he’d die if he went without attention for too long.”
“I heard that!” Terzo snapped from the hallway. “Stop calling me Mr. Emeritus and get out of my house!”
Omega quickly shook your hand. “Well, good luck,” he mumbled as he stalked off.
The heavy front door closed with a loud slam as the two demons made their exit, leaving you and the vampire in silence. He turned and closed the space between you before dipping into a deep bow.
“Buonasera Signora.”
“Uh, hi?”
His head snapped up, a playful grin resting on his painted mouth. He took your hand and brought it to his lips, barely ghosting a kiss against your knuckles. “Welcome to Meliora House. Please allow me to—” He paused and looked around the reception hall. “Bellezza, where are your things?”
“Right here?” you replied with a shrug and motioned to the small suitcase at your feet.
“No, but…where?” He looked at you like he was about to short-circuit. “That’s all you have? For the entire summer? Stai scherzando con me?”
“You’re wearing a lot less than this right now.”
His brow furrowed. “I have closets, bellezza. Many closets.”
“Well, good for you, I guess?”
He blinked rapidly. “Sì, it is good for me? But you…this cannot be enough? How is this enough?”
You folded your arms over your chest. “You do realize that not everyone lives in a Gilded Age French chateau, right? Like, you’re aware that some people live in studio apartments?”
“Yes, bellezza. I’m not an asshole.”
You snorted. “If you say so.”
He placed his hands on his hips and shook his head, mumbling in Italian. “At least let me show you to your room. Where you can put your one bag.”
Six days. Six excruciatingly long days trapped inside a vampire’s fucked up approximation of a summer home. If you weren’t already here to kill the vampire, the last week would have easily driven you to murder him. Even in a house this size you couldn’t avoid Terzo for long. You’d been assigned the room directly across the hall from him, the one boundary he chose to respect amongst the countless others he ignored. While he never entered your space, it didn’t stop him from creepily lurking in the hallway at odd hours.
No matter how badly you wanted to get it over with and take him out for good, you couldn’t rush this. Vampires were always stronger than they appeared. It was a fact you couldn’t afford to forget, even if he was small and odd. And mouthy.
Terzo never ever shut up.
Meliora House might have been empty of other people, but it was filled to the brim with all things Terzo Emeritus. He left things everywhere, a bizarre collection of designer clothing shed wherever he felt like it. A path of destruction and debris always followed him, like a one-vampire tornado tearing through every room of the mansion he passed through. And when you weren’t stuck cleaning up after Hurricane Terzo, his voice could be heard on every floor, belting out anything from opera to modern top 40.
He didn’t seem to have a care in the world. It never once occurred to him that his doom could be across the hall, lying in wait for the perfect moment. And you were, of course. You were studying harder than you ever had for any test, memorizing his movements and routines. There were weapons planted strategically throughout your room, everything within arm’s reach in case the vampire became too bold or too hungry. In reality, there was little-to-no risk of that happening. Most of the time, Terzo forgot you were even there.
It was almost humorous to watch this powerful immortal be repeatedly surprised and sometimes startled by your presence. Not a single thing you knew about the fearless killing machines seemed to apply to the third Emeritus. As far as you could tell, the most dangerous thing about him was an addiction to sappy low-budget romance movies. Which he watched constantly. At all hours. At full volume. With a soundbar.
If you had to hear another big city woman fall head-over-heels for a small-town baker, you were going to burn the entire place to the ground.
Your respite came in the form of the company car Omega had left for you to use at your leisure. The temperature had dropped after sunset, the dark clouds of a storm rolling over the ocean. It was the perfect night to drive along the scenic route and lose yourself in your thoughts without the constant noise and mess of the creature that dwelled within the mansion. You pulled your sleeves over your hands and walked a little faster toward the car, uninterested in getting caught in the rain. As you slid into the seat, you reached over your shoulder for the seatbelt when the dome light burst to life, illuminating the dark interior of the vehicle.
The vampire was in the car.
Blinking in disbelief, you shook your head and reached across the center console, prodding at his body in the hopes that you were hallucinating. “What the hell are you doing?”
Terzo shrugged from the passenger seat, the soft leather creaking under him as he leaned away from your threatening hand. “I’m bored.”
You poked him in the side, confirming he had really just climbed into your car without asking. Ok, maybe it was his car, but Omega had left you the keys. “You’re bored…so you just…”
He turned to look at you, his white eye shining oddly in the dark. “Just what?”
“People don’t really tell you no, do they?”
He shrugged again and focused his attention on the storm clouds in the distance. “I don’t really know many people.”
You kept quiet, opting to start the car instead of trying to tackle Terzo’s existential crisis.
As you pulled the car onto the main road, you focused on slowing your heart rate. Being this close to the vampire physically without a weapon wasn’t really part of your plan. There wasn’t anything you could use to defend yourself in the car either. Unless you wanted to count that tiny vial of pepper spray in your bag. You doubted he would even blink at that.
Your body jerked involuntarily as Terzo shifted in his seat. He leaned his elbow against the window as he pointed his body toward you, his head lazily resting on his hand.
“Is it the storm?” he asked.
“What?”
“Something is making you nervous. Is it the storm? You’re…jumpy.”
“No,” you sighed, running your hand through your hair. “Can I be honest with you?”
“Ah,” he said softly, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “It’s me.”
“Oh, you fucking wish,” you choked out, holding back a laugh.
“Bellezza,” he began, his voice sultry and low. “It’s ok. You don’t need to be afraid of me.”
“Oh my god,” you groaned, eyes darting over the road as rain began to pelt the windshield. “I am not afraid of you.”
He nodded once, his stupid smirk turning into a smile.
“I’m not! It’s just…we don’t really know each other, you know? And you just kind of jumped in the car? It’s a little unnerving.”
“I told you I was bored.”
“Sure, but most people, you know, ask.”
“Oh.”
The quiet lasted only seconds before Terzo began flicking every switch and turning every dial within reach. He turned the heat to full blast and, despite the rain, held down the button for his window letting it descend completely as water splattered the interior and his clothes. Slowly, he let the window rise halfway before bringing it back down again. When the window held no more joy, he leaned across the console and started fucking with the radio.
“Can you stop?” you snapped, fingers itching to slap his hands away.
“What does this do?” he asked, clicking several buttons repeatedly.
“I don’t know,” you answered, taking a measured breath to keep from screaming at him. “Isn’t this your car?”
“It might be, maybe?”
“Shouldn’t you know how your car works?”
“There are A LOT of buttons here!” He emphasized the statement by pressing as many buttons at the same time as he could reach. The air was on now, cold blowing straight in your face. “Omega usually makes me sit in the back. Not as much to do back there.”
“I can see why,” you ground out through gritted teeth.
The rain shifted to a heavy downpour, the drops loud as they bounced off the car. Terzo reached up and pushed one more button. The moonroof slid open, torrents of rain soaking the two of you instantly.
“Oops” fell from his lips with a childlike innocence that could not possibly be real.
You jerked the car to the right, pulling onto the gravel shoulder as you slammed on the breaks and threw the car into park. You flung open the door and stomped to the edge of the scenic cliff the road followed, rocks crunching under your feet as you came to a stop. Bending at the hips, you began to scream at the ocean.
“Bellezza, what are you doing?” Terzo yelled as he ran over and pulled you away from the edge.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re insufferable?”
He bit his lip and nodded. “Sì, Reginetta tells me this.”
“Ok, well, whoever that is, they’re right.”
“Eh, she’s mio fratello’s girlfriend—”
“Not the point, Terzo,” you shouted. “You have two choices, Emeritus. You can get in the back and stop touching shit or you can walk home.”
“I’ve upset you.”
“Yeah,” you replied flatly.
“Mi dispiace, bellezza,” he offered solemnly, bending into a deep bow. “I did not mean to upset you. I will keep my hands to myself.”
“Just get in the car, Terzo,” you instructed, shaking your head.
The two of you began to walk back, Terzo falling behind you as he made to climb into the back.
“Look, you can sit up here if you swear you won’t touch anything else. Deal?” you offered, thinking better of having the vampire at your back.
He placed a hand over his heart. “On my Mother’s grave, bellezza.”
“Oh my god, it’s not that serious. Just get in.”
You couldn’t wait any longer. You had to kill him and soon, otherwise it might cost you your sanity.
Killing a vampire was not as easy as books and movies made it out to be. Sure, the methods were mostly correct: stakes were remarkably effective, as was beheading. Fire was often too messy and risky to guarantee much of anything except structural damage. Crosses and holy water were complete bullshit, but modern hunters had found an effective way of debilitating the soulless monsters.
By some happy accident, an inventive hunter found a way to produce a toxin that caused a paralytic effect in vampires. It made the difficult and often extremely dangerous task much more manageable for a team of one—provided there was only one vampire you were after. Too many new kids had underestimated their enemy only to stumble on an entire nest and become breakfast.
There was no way in hell you were going to become a victim of Terzo Emeritus.
You propped your boot on the antique chest at the foot of your bed, carefully slipping the loaded syringe against the leather. Your weapon rested against your spine, tucked neatly into the waistband of your jeans. There was no more time to waste; sunrise was in less than an hour and if you didn’t make a move soon, you would lose your chance and your nerve.
The solid wood door creaked no matter how quietly you tried to open it. Normally, the sound was covered by the blaring copywrite-free scores and shitty dialogue of those awful movies Terzo consumed like air. But tonight, the mansion was disturbingly quiet. Crossing the hall, you skipped the areas of the old floor that groaned the most, hopping from one foot to the other until you reached the vampire’s bedroom.
You leaned into the door, turning the handle slowly and hoping the thing gave way without a sound. It swung wide, the scent of fresh-cut flowers punching you in the face. You paused at the threshold; lip worried between your teeth as you scanned the room. You thought you’d prepared for everything, weapons at the ready, senses dialed to eleven—but you had never once considered the interior of the vampire’s room.
The space was light and open, a splash of soft pastels, gold, and plush velvet. Gauzy curtains swayed in the breeze from the open balcony doors, the thick, heavy blackout curtains pulled far back. There were white roses everywhere, no surface left untouched by a vase of at least a dozen or so. A massive bed encased in pintucked velvet in a soft lilac color lay against the far wall, its gold filigree headboard stretching halfway up the vaulted walls. Above, a chandelier adorned with crystals and sculpted roses hung in a circle of ornate plasterwork.
The idiot vampire lived in some Marie Antionette Rococo nightmare. But that didn’t trouble you the most. Of all the ridiculous things that made up Terzo’s bedroom, there was one particularly important thing that was missing: him.
The bed was suspiciously empty, a mountain of decorative pillows still in place like it hadn’t yet been touched. You rolled your eyes, a heavy sigh heaving from your lungs. As if the vampire needed to be more annoying, he had completely ruined your plan. Another quick look past the dark doorway of his bathroom confirmed he wasn’t in his suite. Unless he was somewhere lying in wait for you.
You gripped the stake at your back, slowly sliding it out of your waistband when you heard it. As you moved toward the balcony, a soft, melodic voice floated up from below. There was no way it could have belonged to the irritating hundreds of years old vampire, and yet there he was barefoot in the garden singing a solemn tune.
It was beautiful.
Quickly, you retreated from his room, snaking your way down the marble stairs and through the empty ballroom. Killing the vampire on the lawn wasn’t your preferred method, but he forced your hand. A steady chant of now or never repeated in your head with each step as you bounded off the terrace toward him. You reached behind you, fingers secured around the stake as you moved closer.
Terzo stopped singing and cast a weary glance in your direction before shaking his head. He turned his attention back to the delicate blooms of the soft pink peonies that lined this section of the gardens, kneeling in front of them. “It’s late, bellezza,” he said quietly, running a finger through the petals of an open flower. “You should be in bed.”
“Technically, it’s early,” you countered. “Shouldn’t you be inside? The sun is about to come up.”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about me, dolce. A little sun won’t hurt me. Come, sit.”
You shifted from one foot to the other, weighing your options.
“I won’t bite,” he offered with a coquettish grin.
Stupid fucking vampires.
“What are you even doing out here?” you asked as you dropped onto the grass next to him. Carefully, you folded your legs under, a hand coming to rest just above the syringe. He could move faster than you, but fuck if you weren’t going to put up a fight if you had to.
“What are you doing out here?”
“My job?”
He snorted at that. “Sì, I forgot. Hired to babysit a grown man.”
“What’s your definition of grown?”
“What’s yours?”
“I mean, I thought you’d at least be able to dress yourself,” you teased, gesturing toward the vampire’s overly casual crop top and tiny shorts.
He smiled as he stretched out on the lawn. “You’re welcome to borrow anything you’d like.”
“Hard pass.”
He shrugged. “You’re the one sleeping in your jeans, bellezza.”
“I don’t—you know what? No.” You moved to stand, but the vampire wrapped a hand around your wrist. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m sorry, bellezza.” He let go of you and sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t do much of anything right these days.”
You rolled your eyes. “Are you always so fucking maudlin?”
He scrunched up his face in deep thought. “No, actually. This is somewhat new for me.”
“What? Forlornly walking through the gardens at night while singing isn’t your favorite pastime?”
“My brothers would like you, dolce,” he replied with a soft chuckle. “I am sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t,” you admitted. “I didn’t know you could sing.”
He cracked another smile, his head lolling over to look at you. “Why would you? You said yourself we don’t know each other.”
“You’d be surprised what I’ve learned about you in the last few days.”
“Would I?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbow. “Tell me, dolce. What is it you think you know?”
“Oh, you know,” you started, holding yourself back from mentioning the whole 900 year old vampire thing. “You can’t sleep without the TV on. All your comfort films involve a woman falling in love in a small town she doesn’t want to be in, but learns to love by way of handyman dick—”
“That doesn’t tell you anything!”
“It tells me you’re anxious about something, otherwise why would you rewatch the same three movies with the same basic plot on a fucking loop for a week? Which, by the way, you should probably get your hearing checked too.”
He frowned at you as he sat up, pulling a handful of grass from the lawn and letting the blades fall through his fingers. “So what?”
“So, nothing. It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just an observation. But if mystery millionaire bachelor is what you’re looking for, it’s not really what you’re giving off.”
He laughed softly to himself as he stood. He leaned down, plucking one of the beautiful peonies from the garden and held it out to you. He raised an eyebrow as you hesitated to take the thing from him before relenting. “You’re not as mysterious as you think you are either. Good night, bellezza.”
You turned to watch the insufferable ass saunter back inside his ridiculous mansion. Terzo Emeritus knew nothing about you. You’d made sure of that before you arrived. Whatever he thought he knew was all part of the bullshit cover story you landed on his front door with.
You groaned and flopped onto the grass; limbs splayed every which way. You were letting the vampire get in your head, something you absolutely could not afford to do. You had eighteen hours to come up with a better plan.
Pretend everything was normal. Go about your day as scheduled while avoiding the vampire as much as you could. The plan you settled on wasn’t the most inventive, but it was better than acting on impulse and getting yourself killed. You neatly tucked away the weapons from the night before, slipping them under your pillow to hold while you slept. It did little to comfort you, but at least they were there. Now you had nothing to keep you safe, just an empty hope that the vampire would leave you alone.
If only your stupid job wasn’t to tend to him.
You knocked on his bedroom door, pausing to wait for a response. The house was quiet again, the loud sounds of the TV dulled somewhere around noon. With no sign of the vampire, you sighed and pushed your way into the ridiculous room. The vampire was there, stretched out on his stomach on the bed that might as well have been a fucking wedding cake in an outfit that could not have been comfortable.
Who the fuck lounges around in leather pants?
You cleared your throat, but Terzo made no move to acknowledge you. “Um, didn’t you hear me knocking?”
“Yes,” he said sharply and turned the page of the book he was holding. “Can’t you see me ignoring you? Now, go away. I’m busy,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
You moved further into the room, squinting at the cover of the book. A handsome cowboy dressed in red stared back at you with a damsel in distress pinned to his side. “I can see that. Moving on to romance novels, huh?”
He looked over the top of the book, an increasingly familiar deep frown setting into the lines of his face paint. “Is that why you’re here, bellezza? You wish to be romanced?”
You coughed out a laugh. “By who? You?”
The frown reached his eyebrows, a crease forming between them. “I don’t think anyone has ever laughed at me before.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry. It’s just…you’re really, really not my type.”
He nodded, his expression relaxing as he raised one eyebrow. “Ah, sì. Women?”
“No…well, ok, yes. Sometimes.”
Women? Sure. Vampires? Never.
He shrugged easily. “I would not judge you, bellezza. I have had many adventures in my day—”
“Ok! I don’t want to hear about your depraved sex life—”
“Depraved?!”
“Oh my god. I’m not doing this,” you huffed. “Do you want clean sheets or not?”
“Oh!” He perked up immediately and hopped off the bed, his sour mood disappearing as his feet hit the floor. “Are they still warm?”
“I—maybe?”
“Grazie mille, fiorellina,” he sang as he swept past you. He reached over and pressed his finger against your nose, grinning as you swiped at him. “Try not to miss me too much while I’m gone, eh?”
Oh, you were going to fucking kill him.
Night fell on Meliora House. The moon, round and full, reflected off the calm ocean just beyond the reach of the grounds. You stared out at the water, lingering just a beat longer in the window of the sitting room, surrounded by the opulence of a forgotten era. It may have been a giant waste of money, but the house was starting to grow on you. Even more reason to make a move and get the fuck out as fast as you could.
Stilted dialogue backed by a Christmas tune bounced down the hall, signaling the vampire was at least in his room. You traced your steps back, skipping the creaking spots just as you’d done the night before. This time, you were better prepared. Armed with weapons strapped to your thighs and loaded syringes tucked into your boots, you quietly slipped through the door.
Bursts of red and green color lit the room, flashes dancing from the screen on the wall. Terzo lay motionless atop a mountain of pillows and blankets, cradled in the kind of luxurious comfort only he could afford. He would have looked so peaceful if it weren’t for the man leaning over him, a stake raised high over the vampire’s heart.
There was no time to think about your actions. You hurled yourself across the room, vaulting off the edge of the bed to slam the sole of your boot into the other hunter’s face. He stumbled backward, a sickening grin sliding across his face as he spat out your name.
Who the fuck?
It was enough of a distraction for him to land a solid blow to your gut. Of all the fucking ways this whole operation could have gone wrong. Part of you expected another hunter to show up eventually, but you were so sure you’d be gone, and the vampire would be dead before you had to worry about it. Whoever this guy was, he didn’t seem interested in combining forces.
You worked too hard to get yourself here. All that training and research and torment you fought through and for what? For someone else to show up and take it from you? You weren’t going to let that happen.
Your opponent swung fast, catching your lip and splitting it before you could pivot away. But he was young, inexperienced, and too quick to celebrate, letting himself get carried away enough that he didn’t expect the blow you landed at his ribs or the next. You blocked and dodged, feet moving fast as he came at you. The heel of your palm snapped his nose, sending him to his knees.
“Terzo!” you shouted as you turned. Your stomach dropped as the vampire failed to move or acknowledge you at all. That little fucker had poisoned him.
Your attacker lunged at you, knocking you off your feet and sending you crashing to the floor. Your chest burned as you struggled to catch your breath, struggled to pull yourself away from the other hunter. He had you pinned, blood splattering from his nose and onto your face as he closed a hand around your throat. You clawed at his wrist, feet kicking wildly as he denied you air. He smiled down at you as he pushed the silver tip of the stake against your skin.
“What are you trying to do?” he asked cruelly, shifting his weight to press the weapon to your sternum. “Are you trying to save him?”
Your answer was little more than a shout, the piece of metal now dangerously close to snapping the bone.
A pained cry left your lips, the sting of metal slicing into your chest as the weigh on top of you doubled. Over your screaming assailant’s shoulder, Terzo’s mismatched eyes locked on yours. His expression was feral and predatory, maybe a touch protective as he opened his mouth wide. You closed your eyes as tight as you could, not wanting to see. You heard it all—the sound his fangs made as they cut into the flesh of the man’s neck. The grunt of pain that left your attacker as the artery burst under the pressure of the vampire’s teeth. Hot, thick blood spilled over your face and neck, crashing like a copper-scented wave but you didn’t dare look. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.
The weight lifted from your chest, finally allowing you to take a full breath. The air around you was soaked in the disgusting taste of blood, that metallic twinge that coated the entire room. You finally opened your eyes to find Terzo standing over you, the lifeless body of a vampire hunter still clutched in his grasp.
Red dripped onto everything around you, pouring freely from the space where the vampire had bitten your attacker. It dribbled out of the man’s throat and onto the vampire’s bare chest and down, staining the silk of Terzo’s pajama bottoms as he drank from the man for what felt like hours. When he’d finally had his fill, he tossed the body aside, careful to keep it from falling back on you.
You wanted to run. You needed to run, but your body was in such a state of shock that you couldn’t push yourself up. Once all that adrenaline wore off, you knew you were in for a world of hurt if Terzo didn’t kill you first.
But he didn’t make a move to attack you. Instead, he offered you a hand that you were too shaken to take. He bent down and hoisted you to your feet without a second thought or seemingly any effort at all. You swallowed hard, realizing you were chest-to-chest with what you’d been taught was a soulless monster.
And he’d saved you.
Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, drowning out the sound of his voice as he poked and prodded at you. The sting of your tongue running over your busted lip combined with the sharp taste of blood—your own and whoever the fuck that guy was—brought you back to your disturbing reality.
Terzo wasn’t going to kill you.
“Did—did you just save my life?” you asked, your voice hoarse from the hunter’s hand squeezing your throat.
“It only seemed right since you were trying to save mine,” he countered.
“I—”
“It’s nothing, bellezza—”
You cut him off by slamming your mouth against his. It was an ugly, brutal action, barely capable of being called a kiss, but the way his arms locked around your waist told you he didn’t care. Without a word, he pulled you into the massive bathroom, the horrible pink tiles sending a shock to your brain.
He moved away from you just long enough to reach into the shower and turn the taps. He returned, hands moving fast to pull your bloody clothes from your body. He smirked at the sound of your favorite knife clattering against the floor as his pants joined the mess of material on the floor. He picked you up, maneuvering you under the stream of hot water, the red slowly washing away from your bodies. Steam began to rise in the little glass room, the air thick and humid as Terzo pressed you against the wall. His mouth was on your neck, his tongue and teeth dancing playfully against your skin. You gripped fistfuls of his hair, a low moan leaving his throat as you pulled him off.
“No biting,” you ordered flatly.
“I wasn’t—"
“Bullshit you weren’t.” You let a hand fall away from the hair on his head, opting to run it through the patch on his chest that grew thicker as you trailed further down. His eyes snapped shut, mouth forming an O shape as you wrapped your fingers around his annoyingly impressive length. Slowly, you pumped his cock in your fist, squeezing as you reached the base.
“Don’t tease, bellezza,” he growled as he crowded you against the shower wall. He pressed his lips to a space below your ear, working at it until he coaxed a soft moan out of you. He reached between you, fingers brushing yours as they dipped into your entrance. He urged your leg around his hip with his other hand as his thumb lazily pressed against your clit.
“Now who’s teasing,” you hissed, trying to angle your hips for better contact.
He grinned as he pulled away and placed his hands on either side of your head, trapping you under him. “Così bella.”
Your eyes met his. “Are you going to keep being weird or are you going to fuck me?”
He rolled his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh as he dropped his arms. “No patience, bellezza.”
Whatever argument you were about to make died in your throat, replaced by a surprised squeal as he picked you up. Your legs locked around him, back resting against the warm tiles as he lined himself up and slid the head of his cock through your folds. He pressed against your entrance, a slight whimper leaving your mouth as your cunt stretched around him. He kept his eyes trained on where he slowly disappeared inside you, his grip tightening with each push and pull. He slowly pumped into you, taking his time before burying himself completely.
He closed his eyes, letting his head rest against your shoulder as your body adjusted to the fullness of his cock.
“Terzo?”
He snapped his hips forward, a slick smile gracing his face as your eyes rolled back. He set a rough pace, his fingers pressing bruises into your hips as he held you there. He fucked you against the wall, pounding into you until you were whining and begging.
“Terzo, I—”
He angled himself just right, finding that perfect spot inside you that made you shut up. You had never come so hard or so fast in your entire life, but you locked your arms tight around his neck as stars danced in your vision. And he was just as content to repeat the action, trying to coax the next orgasm from you while his thrusts began to stutter.
“I—” he choked out.
“S’fine,” you mumbled, too blissed out to care. “Don’t stop.”
He nodded once, his pace picking up as he pressed his face against your shoulder. He came with a low moan, his cock emptying pulse after pulse into you as the water began to run cold. Clarity hit you both as he lifted his head, those mismatched eyes locking onto yours.
“I—we should—” he started nervously, moving to set you down.
 “Yeah. Ok,” you agreed stupidly as you cleared your throat.
Absolutely not how the summer was supposed to go.
thank you for your time! please let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list! xo Ghouls
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takami-rising · 7 months
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silhouette ☀︎
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silhouette
character: rengoku kyojuro x reader notes: just a short little thing. i was sad. genre: angst, drabble warnings: not edited
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He is nothing but a dark shadow under the moonlight. You can make out the dips and curves of his profile in the haze of your sleep, the soft smile on his lips as he watches the moon. His haori flows in the slow breeze. The katana in his hand is broken, the hilt battered and stained with blood. You pay it no mind, counting the steps with anticipation as he finally turns to join you in your bedroom.
"You shouldn't sleep with the doors open, my love," he whispers clear as day as he cups your cheek. 
Your body shakes with relief. The horrors of your worries wash away with that one simple touch. You beckon him into your bed, under the covers, into safety.
He should retire, you think. He has done enough, carried so much on his shoulders. You could grow old together. Spend your days eating good food, reading to each other, watch the sunsets. No more fearing the nights as they come. You truly would enjoy seeing silver slowly braid itself into his strands.
You feel his touch, his hands fanning over you as he drags you, molds you against his form. His breath tickles your neck, his soft locks painting you in their golden waterfalls. You smile, a breath of content. This is where you belong.
Your eyes open, slow tears rolling down your cheeks as you squint at the sun's rays peeking through the blinds. Your hand fans across the futon, trembling as it so desperately seaches for any remnants of your dream. All it finds are the flames of his tattered haori. It still smells like him.
The space next to you remains ever empty.
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jukeboxtheatre · 1 year
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he’s just a sad gay man. and i love him.
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starpity · 8 months
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BLACK TIE AFFAIR-pt 1
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pairing: girlfriend!ellie x plus-sized fem reader
warnings/themes: slight pinch of loser!ellie, she’s just kind of a sweetheart but stupid in this, smut, oral sex r! receiving, semi-public sex, dom/sub undertones, submissive ellie, begging, cross posted on ao3 under the same title and author, new chapter coming soon
synopsis: Ellie’s new girlfriend Really wants to see her in a suit
a/n: 1) i wrote this in a fugue state it is completely unedited and i may not ever edit it. if things seem out of character thats bc they are <3
2) the reader in this is racially ambiguous on purpose but im not being ambiguous abt the fact that shes fat!!!!!!!!! im giving ellie a plus sized love interest n no one can stop me.
You didn’t throw the party just to have sex with Ellie, but you’d be lying if that wasn’t at least 3/4 of your motivation. You’d sent the invites out with some sweet words about bringing friends together to celebrate the end of a beautiful summer and the start of a new season, but the real reason was much simpler: you wanted to see your new girlfriend dressed up. Ellie was a pretty casual girl, on all the dates you two had been on she’d worn nice jeans and tops that showed off her muscles and tattoos. You loved the way she looked in her clothes, and especially loved how she looked out of them, but there was a little part of your brain that was dying to see her really dressed up. When you’d spotted a suit jacket at the back of her closet while looking for a shirt to steal, your little dream had become a full on obsession and the party invites with your formal dress code were sent out within the week.
-
By 3pm, the party was perfectly set. You’d started the day off in a messy old tshirt and shorts while you hauled tables out onto the back lawn and swatted spiderwebs out of the corners of the porch, but it was finally time for you to get dressed. Your backyard looked beautiful; the tables were covered in jewel colored tablecloths you’d thrifted, and the tops were decked in purple hydrangeas and golden cone flowers and english ivy you’d pulled from your garden. Sprinkled throughout the flowers were candles of all different sizes, waiting for the first signs of sunset to be lit. The trees were hung with strands of glowing lights that reached across the firepit and wound around the fence posts and trellises of the back garden. From your vantage point by the fence line, you could see the battery-powered candles in every window of the house waiting to be turned on, and hear the faint threads of some country song from the kitchen window where your best friend was finishing up her lemon cake for the party. The pillows on the porch chairs had all been fluffed and arranged, and the soft glow of the string lights in the rafters made the whole porch look cozy and inviting. Everything was perfect, and now it was time for you to be too. After one last adjustment to the flowers on the drinks table, you headed inside to get ready.
-
After showering off the sweat and grime of the early morning, you laid your dress out on your bed. You’d chosen a gorgeous golden velvet dress that showed off the curves of your body perfectly. In the past, there had been times you felt uncomfortable with dresses as clinging as this one, but something about the way Ellie’s eyes lit up whenever she saw your body had made you start to forget that discomfort. You wanted her eyes and hands on you all night, and this dress would certainly do it. The deep gold of the dress made your skin and eyes shimmer, and the way it bunched at your hips would hopefully have Ellie pushing the skirt up around your waist as soon as possible. You kept your hair simple, braids pulled back into a knot at the back of your head with a few ringlet curls framing your face. You paired your favorite gold necklace with a pair of dangling golden star earrings, and smudged your eyelids with a soft brown eyeshadow that brought out the warmth of your eyes. You finished up your makeup with a bubblegum scented lipgloss and dabbed some flowery perfume behind your ears. Your heels were a shimmering gold that matched your dress, and you’d gotten your nails done with a simple gloss coat the day before to offset all the gold. You looked classy and radiant, and you couldn’t wait for Ellie to ruin it.
-
The party started around 5. Your friends arrived decked out in autumn colors of orange and red and brown and yellow, each one carrying food and drinks and flowers to share. The house radiated with the scent of apples and cinnamon and oranges as a simmer pot bubbled on the kitchen stove, and the music bubbled along with it beneath the gentle uproar of your friends greeting each other. The reaction to your dress was a catcall from your best friend, and whistles and yells from several others. Several people asked when Ellie would be here, as today would be the first time she met any of your friends. You’d been a bit worried about Ellie meeting such a large group of your friends at once because you knew she could be anxious when it came to new people, but she had insisted she would be fine. You told your friends that Ellie would be a bit late as you had asked her to stop and pick up some extra champagne glasses on her way here.
-
As Ellie stepped in the door, you realized that you had made a huge mistake. You should’ve come up with a plan to get Ellie into a suit that didn’t involved 30 of your closest friends and an hours-long dinner party, because you weren’t going to make it through the night when she looked like that. Rather than the black suit from her closet that you had assumed she would wear, Ellie was wearing a beautifully tailored brown suit that made her look tall and elegant and so handsome you wanted to cry. Her hair was done up in her usual half-up-half-down style, but you could tell she’d used some kind of product to style her bangs and make her hair looks soft and shiny. She set down the box of champagne flutes on the nearest table and pulled you into a hug before leaning back to look at your dress again. The color of her suit complimented your dress perfectly. Her mouth was open slightly and her cheeks were rosy as she looked you up and down. She smiled shyly and mumbled, “Hi baby, you look gorgeous” into your hair as she pulled you back against her again. You could tell from her posture and the way she was trying to tuck herself into you- a silly sight considering she was several inches taller- that she was nervous to introduce herself to your friends, but she reached back over to the box she’d brought in and pulled out a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers. She handed them over to you with another shy smile and a blush as she looked you up and down again.
“Oh my god baby these are beautiful, thank you”, you said as you pulled her down into a kiss. Turning around, you began to introduce Ellie to your friends that were crowded around the kitchen counter picking at the cheese board you had laid out earlier. You tried to pay attention as Ellie responded to a question from your friend Jesse, but for some reason the shine of the lights on Ellie’s hair and way she was holding your hand was making all the thoughts slide out of your brain like water off glass. You wanted her so badly, but you weren’t gonna ruin her chance to bond with your friends by dragging her off to a bedroom and fucking her. You were gonna sit through this night like a civilized human being. You were.
-
You were gonna kill yourself before the night ended. Ellie was so close to you, looking so insanely attractive in her dress clothes, and she was so. Fucking. Clueless.
The party was going great; The appetizers were getting eaten up faster than you could serve them, and the drinks were going even faster. Groups of people had settled on the porch, and at some of the outer tables and chairs, leaving the long dinner table empty until it was time for the meal to start. Ellie seemed to really be hitting it off with Jesse, so you’d left the two of them talking for a while while you made sure all the food was in the oven for dinner and the candles in the windows were turned on. The sun wasn’t exactly set yet, but it was starting to get darker at the edges of the yard and you’d seen the first few fireflies of the night start to blink their hellos. Once the last candle was lit, you went back over to check on Ellie.
You stopped a few yards away from the table where Ellie and Jesse were sitting, and just watched them for a while. Ellie looked so beautiful. Her eyes were sparkling and she was gesturing animatedly at Jesse; they were definitely arguing about something. There was a blush high on Ellie’s cheeks from the glass of whiskey in her hands. You loved her hands, the way the rings she wore made her fingers look even longer, the way the veins stood out when she flexed her hands around the glass, the way her hands looked when they wrapped around your wrists and your legs and your throat. She had taken off her suit jacket and rolled her sleeves up to her elbows to show off her forearm tattoo to Jesse, and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into her lap and kiss her in front of the whole party.
“Hey, baby!”, you called out as you walked over to her. Ellie looked towards you with a smile that took your breath away, and waved you over to the table she sat at with Jesse.
“Hi, love. Everything going okay?”, Ellie said as you came to a stop beside her chair, tilting her head up to look at you.
“Yup, everything’s going amazing so far.” You pressed a kiss into her temple and stood with your elbows resting on her shoulders, leaning over her to talk to Jesse.
“Is Jesse bothering you, Ellie? Do I need to steal you away?”, you asked teasingly. You were internally begging for her to say yes so you two could least go make out in a dark corner somewhere for a minute and blow off some steam. Up close, her hands looked even more beautiful and you wanted them wrapped around your neck instead of that stupid glass.
“No baby I’m fine,” she said with that stupid, stupid, sweet smile of hers. “I’m having a good time”.
“Okay, love.” You pressed a kiss to the top of her head and walked off then. You would be a good girlfriend and let Ellie make friends, and you wouldn’t pout about it.
-
You were definitely pouting. Another hour had passed, the sun was finally starting to sink beneath the clouds, and Ellie still hadn’t gotten up from that fucking table with Jesse. Your friend Dina had come over to the table too now, and the three of them were talking and yelling like they’d known each other their whole lives. Ellie had rejected your hints and requests to come with her twice now, and you were honestly starting to regret ever introducing her to your friends.
In your second attempt, you had fully sat yourself in Ellie’s lap at the table and asked her to come to the bathroom with you to ‘fix your dress’, but you either had the dumbest girlfriend in the world or the sweetest. Ellie had spun you around and said, “How could I fix it? You look absolutely perfect baby”. You only just barely stopped yourself from stomping away.
However, another half-hour and several shots with your friends had passed and you felt ready to try again. This time, there would be no way Ellie could possibly miss your meaning. Locking the door of the bathroom behind you, you pulled up the hem of your skirt and pulled off your panties. You’d picked the pair out special this morning, as Ellie had never seen you wearing anything as intricately lacy and sheer as these. You had wanted to surprise her, but at this point you were unsure if Ellie would ever see them because you felt like you were never going to want to have sex again if this didn’t work.
Heading back outside with the panties tucked discreetly away in your fist, you made your way over to the table where Ellie, Jesse, Dina, and a few more of your friends were all sitting. Ignoring everyone but Ellie, you came up behind her and draped yourself over the back of her chair, leaning down to whisper in her ear.
“You have 10 seconds to get up and follow me. I’m not asking you again.” Pressing a kiss Ellie’s cheek and ignoring the sweet, confused look on her face, you reached down into her lap and slipped the panties into her hand. Her eyes darted down at the feeling of lace in her palm, and her eyes widened as you started to walk away. As you turned around and headed back towards the house, you heard Ellie start to stutter out an excuse, followed by the sound of a chair creaking, a glass shattering, and Jesse and Dina both cursing at full volume.
-
Ellie opened the bathroom door and your hands were on her shoulders in an instant, pushing her back up against the wall and reaching behind her to close and lock the door.
“Took you long enough”, you said, reaching up to grab her face and pull her down into a rough kiss.
“I’m sorry baby, I knocked over a glass and I-“
“Don’t care,” you interrupted. “I’ve been trying to get your attention all night and you’ve been glued to Jesse instead.”
“Baby, I-“
“Nope! You have an outrageously hot girlfriend and you’ve been neglecting her all night. I don’t wanna hear excuses.”
Ellie’s cheekbones were covered in a bright red flush now and she opened her mouth to speak before swallowing and trying again. “I’m sorry baby, you look beautiful,” she said, eyes darting quickly down to your cleavage before looking back up at your eyes. “How can I make it up to you?”
“There we go, sweetheart” you said, loosening the grip you had on her wrist and instead winding your fingers into her hair and pulling her down to kiss you again. Her mouth opened on a gasp just as your lips met and she pulled herself into your body, her hands coming to rest on your ass and the middle of your back, crushing you closer into her. She pushed you back into the sink, the upper halves of your bodies leaning backwards while your legs tangled together and she slid the hand on your ass down to hitch your leg up around her hip. She kissed you deeper, pressing every inch of her body as close to yours as she could get.
The force of her kiss surprised you, and you felt dizzy when she finally pulled away from your lips. Her head ducked and she began pressing kisses to your neck, mumbling something into the hot skin behind your ears.
“What was that, baby?”
“M’sorry”, she mumbled again, pressing another kiss to your skin. “M’sorry, m’sorry,” she repeated, pressing a kiss into your skin for each apology. You wanted to give in right then, pull her into another hug and call her your sweet girl, but the press of each kiss was sending sparks across your skin and Ellie only grew needier with each touch of lips to skin. She bit down gently in the spot she knew you liked, and worried the skin between her teeth as you gasped and cupped the back of her head with your hand. Your other hand was braced against the counter, trying to hold yourself up against the force of your girlfriend’s apologies. Ellie surged forward and suddenly scooped you up, the muscles of her arms flexing under her shirt, before setting you down gently on top of the counter. The sink was digging squarely into your back and you were vaguely worried about the entire vanity collapsing under the two of you, but you were willing to ignore your worries for now. Ellie’s hand was right next to yours, the tattoo on her forearm flexing as she gripped the marble counter. Her other hand still had your leg hitched around her waist and she was pressing every inch of herself into the gap between your legs, trying to get you to forgive her with your body if not in words.
She pressed a final kiss to the base of your neck before reaching to pull the strap of your dress and the cup of your bra to the side. She licked and sucked at your exposed nipple, moaning quietly into your skin. The hand that wasn’t holding you up flew to your mouth as you tried to hold in a gasp. The feeling of Ellie’s tongue on your skin, the soft material of your dress now hanging off one shoulder, and the press of Ellie and the marble counter on both sides of your body was making it hard to think or breathe, much less remember to keep your voice down in case there was someone outside the bathroom door. Your pussy was uncomfortably wet, the lack of panties making you feel every press and shift of Ellie’s hips through the soft velvet of your dress. You sent up a fervent prayer that your dress wouldn’t be too ruined to wear for the rest of the night before Ellie drove all the thoughts out of your head again as she bit down on your nipple. You finally let out a moan as your head tipped back against the mirror above the sink, and you felt Ellie’s mouth leave your skin for the first time since she’d started.
You were absolutely turned on out of your mind, but you managed a semi-believable haughty voice.
“Did I tell you to stop?”, you breathed out as you picked your head back up and looked down at her again.
Ellie looked back up at you silently, and the look in her eyes-pupils blown wide and adoring- sent a wave of heat through your body from head to toe. Instead of answering, she lowered herself down to the floor, the beautiful lines of her suit crumpling as she settled herself on her knees between your legs. Her hands came up to rest on your thighs just below where your dress ended, dimpling the soft skin there as she dug her fingers into you. The rings on her fingers were cold against your skin, but every other part of your body felt like it was burning.
“Please”, she breathed out, one of her hands reaching up to clutch at the hem of your dress. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your dress-covered cunt before resting her head against your thigh, breathing heavily.
“Sweet girl,” you said, cupping her face gently in your hand and tilting it up to look at you, “You’ve got yourself all worked up, huh?”. She nodded her head into your hand, before turning and kissing the palm of the hand against her cheek. Her hands fell away from your legs, balling up in her lap as she waited for you to say more. You could feel the heat of her cheek against your palm, her eyes looking slightly watery against the burn of her embarrassment. You could tell she loved it though, from the way her mouth sat slightly open and she rubbed her balled fists against the tops of her thighs.
“You want me to fuck your face, sweet girl? Is that what you want?”. You rubbed a thumb across her cheekbone as a single, burning tear of embarrassment fell across her face.
She nodded fiercely and breathed out a, “Yes, please”. She looked so determined you wanted to laugh and tell her you hadn’t really been mad at all, but she was obviously getting off on this and you weren’t about to cut it short. Besides, your cunt was aching and you thought you might go insane soon if you didn’t get what you’ve been waiting for since you came up with this stupid party idea.
“Go ahead, love”. Ellie didn’t need any further encouragement. She reached out with surprising forcefulness and yanked your hips forward, until your lower half was nearly off the counter. Still on her knees, she pushed your dress up and licked into your pussy like she was starving. The first touch of her tongue was enough to have you cracking your head on the mirror again, startling a laugh and a moan out of you in the same breath. Ellie didn’t stop, and you wondered if she could even hear you. You could barely hear yourself, the pounding of your heart in your ears mixing with the underlying thump of the music from somewhere outside.
Ellie’s arms wrapped around the outside of your thighs and held you tight, fingers digging into the velvet of your dress as she held it up bunched at your hips. Her tongue dragged across your clit like a match striking, sending a blistering heat through your chest that burned through every part of your body. Ellie’s face was slick already, and you could feel her sucking gently at your clit between swipes of her tongue. Her fingers kept flexing against your upper thighs, gripping tighter and tighter until the skin there was flushed and irritated. You scooted your hips further off the counter, pressing your cunt harder into Ellie’s mouth. She moaned against you, and the noise you made in response was definitely audible to anyone within 20 feet of the bathroom door. You stuffed your hand into your mouth, biting down hard on your knuckles to try and keep quiet. Ellie seemed to take that as a challenge, licking into you harder and faster until the whimpers coming out of your mouth were constant. She held you tight against her with her right arm, and used her left to push your leg further out of her way, leaving your golden heel dangling over her shoulder. Your hands were in her hair, absolutely ruining the bun she had so carefully styled before the party.
You started to feel dizzy, the focus of the world dulling until the only things you knew were the feelings of Ellie’s tongue against you, and your fingers in her hair, and the burning in your chest that was spreading down your arms and legs until every finger and toe was on fire. Your eyes closed, and you fought the urge to close your legs around Ellie’s head. Your fingers slid through her hair and spasmed against her back, scratching at her skin through the crisp whiteness of her shirt. Everything in you wanted to snap, to jerk away from the feeling burning through you. It was too much. It was, you were going to tell Ellie that it was too much, that you couldn’t take it anymore, but when you went to say it the only word that came out was her name. Ellie gave another gentle suck on your clit, pulling on your hips and grinding your cunt into her face as hard as she could, and everything shattered.
Your legs snapped shut around Ellie’s head, trapping her head between your thighs. She pushed back fiercely against the inside of your legs, forcing them open and continuing to lick into you while your body shook against her mouth. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears and it felt like every ounce of blood in your body was right up against Ellie’s tongue, being kissed at and licked and sucked. You pushed her head away and finally closed your legs, your lower body still spasming against your will as you leaned back against the mirror, trying to breathe.
Ellie’s hands were on you again then, hand behind your neck pulling you limply away from the mirror to rest your head against her shoulder. You giggled, empty-headed as you buried your face against her neck, breathing in the smell of sweat and her cologne and your body. You slung your arms loosely across Ellie’s shoulders, pulling her in closer to you.
“Hi baby”, you whispered.
“Hi,” Ellie whispered back. Giving you a mind-numbing orgasm seemed to have brought Ellie back to herself a bit, her eyes were focused again and she smiled when you leaned your head back into her neck and moaned again, aftershocks making your legs kick gently at the back of Ellie’s thighs. “Was that good?”
“Mhmmmm”, you moaned out, smile twisting your lips at the end of the noise. You would gather up the scraps of your dominant personality and start bossing Ellie around again soon, but for now your head was blissfully empty except for the gentle pulse of EllieEllieEllieEllie in your head like a heartbeat.
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lovehyyuntold · 8 months
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— Tour De Force 🤎
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— An impressive performance or achievement that has been accomplished or managed with great skill.
– also known as, a masterpiece.
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Rundown: a sweet telling of an artist falling in love with his muse, where monochrome ruled his world until your hues brought him to life.
Pairing: artist!hyunjin x reader
Word Count: about 800
Genre: contemporary romance / suggestive !
Warnings: very much in the feels, mentions of physical affection: kissing, hugging, teasing.
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Date Created: 11/8/2021
A/N: Hello, and thank you for deciding to stop by to give this story, a shot—it'll be the first fic, I post on this account. I wrote this a long time ago for self-indulgence with my own character in mind, very much un-edited, but I had thought that Hyunjin fitted him more, so here we are. I find most of this to be slightly cringe as it was a spontaneous little thing.
— It would be the biggest honor if you could reblog & comment. Share your thoughts, I genuinely love discussion.
Once again, thank you ♡
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When Hyunjin gazes at you, all he sees is a masterpiece.
His studio was filled to the brim with art supplies; all scattered into a small space. Paint splatters on the ground, across the walls, even on the windows itself—brushes rolling on the ground, sketchbooks stacked on the table; his pencils were neatly placed together into one container. Crayons, markers, easels; all in one spot on the ground. Yet somehow, everything was everywhere. One would call this place a mess. You wouldn’t blame them, as it seemed to be exceptionally organized…in his own way—which was most definitely a stretch, seeing as things were verbatim, all over the place. His mind worked in wondrous ways, it became a mystery. 
You admired the quality of his passion, the way his eyes crinkled in concentration as he worked on his next artistry. He wouldn’t ever show you his works in progress nor the result, so it made you ponder on the thought; what was he hiding?
Hyunjin closed his eyes, imagining you. Everything about you, he thought of; your smile, your actions, your words, your lingering touches, soft kisses setting him ablaze, sweet profound words you spoke of when you were with him. He was grateful to have met you, gazing towards the empty sidewalk—lost of all inspiration as he clasped onto his empty sketchbook, pencil in his hand. Time seemed to slow down when you walked in. The glimpse of you that he saw, something about the way you lifted your lips—curving it and grinning, made him hungover at the glow you held, the thought of you.
All was black and white till he saw you.
“Hyun, can I see now?” You whined as you sat on his couch, pouting at him as you stared at the back of his easel.
He could only smile as he peeked over because you shouldn’t see it yet. 
His masterpiece, his muse, you.
“Patience, my love.” He giggles, his eyes turning into crescents as he points his paintbrush at you before continuing on, “Good things come to those who wait.”
Furrowing your brows, you rolled your eyes—crossing your arms at his antics. But it immediately softened at the view of him. Sunset-colored hair gleaming with a softness as his lips pursed; mesmerized at his own work. Hand gliding across the easel—trickles of sweat gliding down his forehead. You never understood why he sweated when he painted, it was as if he was too indulged to even realize the heat in the room. Nevertheless, he was beautiful, this man was yours and you were his. 
“Angel, would you be so kind as to-”
He looked up, meeting your gaze. He wasn't expecting your intense look. Once soft eyes that stared at him with pure love and affection had fire ablaze beneath them as if something had ticked inside you. He was intimidated, to say the least. All he wanted was for you to look at him, so he could scan your features properly. But you had different plans.
“Careful, wouldn't want bugs to fly in that mouth of yours.” You smirked, ego blossoming at the sight of his mouth slightly agape. His pupils widened, and he quickly squinted his eyes, a smirk making its way across his lips. You were such a tease and he loved it.
“You want to go there, darling?” His voice deepens, causing you to cover your mouth. Cowering behind the couch, you laughed—hugging the pillow that was beside you. Sometimes he challenged your little tomfoolery, yet it always left you a flustered mess.
After taking a few minutes to process what he did, you peeked over the couch, but you couldn���t see anyone. You gasped, he was gone. Proof of his painted apron sat on the high stool, but his figure wasn’t there. Panicking, you turned your body around—causing your eyes to meet his again.  You could feel your nose brushing gently against his, lips grazing over yours, breath lingering on each other.
You were close, way too close.
He smiled, staring into your brown ones as the light glimmered onto his. Closing the space, he lifted you from your seat—hugging your waist until he crashed onto you with a searing kiss. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as your eyes closed slowly. Placing your arms around his neck, he gently guides your waist towards him, to close the space even further. The moment was sweet and gentle, as if you were a fragile feather, and he was the wind guiding you by.
Art wasn’t about the final result, nor was it about the actual drawing itself; it was a form of communication. The passion that someone held within them, an expression that one holds. A feeling prolonged onto one’s thoughts and mind. To him, you were his inspiration to create his artistry, and he couldn’t ask for anything more. 
A masterpiece amongst the dullest of moments.
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© lovehyyuntold 2023
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themysticssdream · 10 months
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citrus & sunshine • tommy miller
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Tommy Miller x F!Reader Rating: Everyone Words: 0.8K SUMMER EDITION l BASED ON THIS POST Content Warning: F L U F F. Smoking and kissing. A/N: I wrote this within 30 minutes while fresh from waking up and rotting away in my room. Tommy just has that effect on me, lol. I also didn't know how to end this. l Don't forget to like, comment and reblog for support!
Tommy took the long way home just so you could enjoy the sunset. The light of the lowering sun settled on your skin, a warm embrace that reminded you of the day you had with him.
The wooden crates rattled in the back of his truck, full of goods that you each collected from the farmer's market to bring back to your newly shared home. Out of everything, the small orange tree that settled in a decorated terra cotta pot was your favorite. One that you would help to nourish in the small space in your kitchen before planting it next to the steps that led to your porch.
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The sun lay halfway above the horizon, leaving the sky to turn from bright blue to hues of oranges and pinks against the clouds that it reminded you of cotton candy.
You couldn't help but smile. The tune on the radio was low, and if it wasn't for Tommy humming and quietly singing along with it, you wouldn't have recognized the song. His words were mumbled… silent… and then clear while taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it out the window.
Your arm extends towards him to rest your wrist on the headrest, fingers tangling at the soft edges of his dark curls; you inched closer until your fingernails lazily scratched at the back of his neck.
You felt your heart race at the thought of him; of how lucky you were that this man was part of your life. Though, it scared you, fearing that one day all of it would fall apart, but that small anxious thought kept you on your toes, to enjoy every waking moment with him.
When you turned your attention away from the sun towards Tommy, your cheeks started to burn - a simple reminder of how much he made you smile that day. And Tommy could sense it, his eyes flickering away from the road so that his earthy eyes met yours just for a moment.
"Now what's that smile for, darlin?" His voice was like a song, his words singing along with the one on the radio.
"Oh," You almost sighed. Peeling your hand away from him, your elbow kept you propped up as you longingly kept your eyes on him. "If you weren't driving I'd kiss you senseless."
His lips instantly curve in a smile, and you feel the quick yet light shift in direction of his truck. It swayed from side to side when the weight of it rolled over the land of dirt beside the pavement. He turns the key towards him a notch, turning off the engine while keeping the radio on.
Tommy slightly turns in his seat towards you, waiting patiently for you to make the first move. "Well, darlin', not driving anymore."
In one quick motion of unbuckling your seat belt, your body almost leaps over the center console and onto his lap. Each of your lips move in a frenzy, as if the two of you were searching for something you both longed for in each other. Tommy laughed against your moving mouth at your eagerness; at the feeling of you clutching at his unbuttoned shirt, your hands pushing heavily at his chest that it presses his back hard against the seat and car door.
He held you close as the quick pace of your kisses turned slow to just lips grazing. Tommy smiled as he placed one last sweet peck upon you and held your body, enjoying how the summer sun enveloped at your skin.
As you raise a hand to settle it in the darkest depths of his curls, Tommy closes his eyes at the faint scent of citrus that hangs at your wrist. It was only a few hours ago he watched you dig through the bins full of oranges to pick out ones that were perfectly round and supple; bringing it up to your mouth to inhale the sweet scent before placing the oranges in a crate that settled at your hip.
Earlier, he laughed at your enthusiasm of you putting the citrus tree in his arms and your plans of planting it next to your porch. But now, Tommy's vision of it was crystal clear in his mind. He would plant more citrus trees that lined your property if it meant that the scent of citrus would naturally settle on your skin as you picked the fruit from the trees until the rest of your days together.
thank you for reading! tag list - @ay0nha @goldgilzean @musings-of-a-rose-writes @princessmk21 @itsmoonchik
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wulfgaang · 3 months
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Beautiful (PG13)
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pairing: hwang hyunjin x f!bodied muse rating: pg-13 genre: romance; pining; angst during the time skip wc: 1.7k warnings: minimally edited, artistic nudity mentioned, sensual touching, soft boy hyunjin being so in love he's absolutely floored at he got that lucky, ANGST BELOW THE TIME SKIP. Feel free to end the story before if you want something a little fluffier :3 a/n: well hey it's been a second! Here's my second fic, this time with the lovely Hyunjin! It's a little short one but that's ok with me :) for the third time, please be aware there's some angst in the time skip so if you aren't ready for it... feel free to end it before then ^^; I just couldn't help myself; i love pain :')
Inspiration. "You're beautiful... I know but... You were everything..."
Disclaimer. This is a work of fiction that does not intend to portray the true feelings, actions, nature and emotions of the Stray Kids members. Please not redistribute this piece of fiction in any form. Copyright @ wulfgaang / callsign-marlie (tumblr; 2024)
--
Hyunjin was enraptured.
It was a different feeling than of the others he had before when he saw you like this. His brain was fuzzy and covered in cotton candy while his gaze slipped over every pore, stretch mark and mole on your skin. How soft it all looked, draped in the shimmering gossamer fabric that barely covered the shading of the peaks and valleys of your hips! You were a feast indeed.
Hyunjin saw you as effervescent; a star in the nighttime, glimmering and glowing, a constant flicker of ephemeral gorgeousness under his single bay window. The afternoon light had dimmed to dusk and left more shadows than he had originally started with. You were the perfect model as per usual, holding your expression at the same point for hours with just a giggled “I’m fine, my love, go back to work” whenever he came to give you sips of water or drop grapes into your mouth. He wished the juice that dribbled down your chin onto your chest stayed long enough for him to paint it.
A Cleopatrean idol, you are; a person worth every luxury, every greatness he could ever give. The way his heart soared for you at every glance, jumped at every touch, melted with the sound of your voice! Oh, he would have moved mountains if you asked him to just to ensure a frown never creased your lips. He would make sure that sweat never fell from your brow if he could help it, if you weren’t ever so stubborn to allow him the pleasure to serve your beck and call.
You were a salve on burns left behind by a world that didn’t care about him. That didn’t care about anyone other than itself. You gave him a soft place to land when life was too true to believe. You gave him comfort when pins and needles pricked under his eyes. You deserved to be memorialized over and over again as the subject of all grace, humility and rapture for everyone to witness. Mine. Aren’t you jealous? They’re mine, all mine, and all you can do is praise them as I do. Give your everything to them; you’ll see it too.
He was focused now, his eyebrows pinching slightly together with his stern gaze peaking over the top of the canvas. He memorized the trace of the curve of your hip and translated it to his paint. His brush moved the acrylic languidly, flicking at the ends to taper the lines to nothingness of shadow. He had been the epitome of a professional for each and every session, guiding your movements with a soft voice and gentle fingertips to make minor adjustments. The angle needed to be just where he wanted it; just where he wanted you.
He would ghost his paint covered fingers over the top of your skin, feeling the electrical shock of his touch bring the hairs of your arms to attention. Butterfly light touches of his lips to the spot under your jaw unlocked the hummingbird caged in his heart, the ghost of your breath like a memory from ages past; sweet and delicate. You smiled at him with sparkling eyes in the amber of sunset. Sunset.
“You must be exhausted, my muse,” Hyunjin murmured, kneeling against the side of your seat to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. You smiled and preened, the arch of your back high against the velveteen chaise lounge. “You’ve done so well for me today.”
You attempted to playfully press your face closer to his, but Hyunjin was fast to move backwards from you as a coy smile graced his lips. You pouted with furrowed brows. “I can’t even receive payment for all of my hard work, monsieur l’artiste?”
His eyes twinkled mischievously before he let his mouth crash to yours, the softness of flesh pulled a light moan from the bottom of his chest. Kissing you was sinful; the way he perfectly meshed with you felt like blasphemy. There was no way that whatever gods existed created someone so perfect, so lovely, and happened to place them right in his path to love and cherish forever. The way your hands carded through his hair was biblical. The way you moved against his chest required reconciliation. For what? He didn’t know. Forgive me Father, for I have sinned… He would rather be sent to hell than be one day apart from you a single moment.
As the air was pulled from his lungs, he broke the passionate connection to let his lips dance to the tip of your nose, tapping them to each of your eyelids, and finally, let them linger on the crest of your forehead. “A tip,” he muttered. “For making my most favorite model think she wasn’t even worth payment. Who do you think I am, a con?”
Your giggle was soft, a blush of heat draped across the bridge of your nose. He wished he didn’t call it quits already: it would have gone perfect with the warm color palette he had chosen for this scene. He would have to add it later in post editing. Hyunjin wondered if the more rosy tone was suited for the color palette or should he darken it to match the shadows of the background? But then again, the blue of the sky hit just a point- 
“You’re beautiful, Hyunjin.”
Your voice pulled him from his thoughts. He blinked owlishly. “Hm?”
“You’re beautiful,” you said again, moving the gauzed sheet from your lap to stand. Your bones and ligaments groaned for a moment as you unfurled from your position on the couch with a sigh. Your peaked nipples stood up against the cold while you languidly reached for the silk robe on the side table. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Hyunjin tsked quietly, his drying palette suddenly more interesting than the flames licking at his cheeks. “That, my love, is where you’ve got the whole picture backwards. You’re the beauty here.”
“I don’t think so,” you harped, slinking around the side of his easel to face him again. You pushed the palette down gently, your fingers stuck in the cold terracotta paste left behind. “You may paint the picture, sweetheart, but the audience are the ones to appreciate and interpret it, aren’t they?”
“I suppose, but-”
Your lips had found him this time as your sullied hands wrapped around his shoulders. Your chest was pressed to his, your hips rocking perfectly against his groin. His palette scattered to the floor while the excess paint Pollocked the draping sheet beneath his canvas. His hands didn’t know where to hold as you let your lips cascade lower and lower, down the throbbing pulse of his neck, to the tips of his collarbone and finally placing a harsh bruise over his heart.
He moaned.
“Let me show you what I see.”
3 years later… (Angst time)
Felix was enraptured.
The way the ring lights of the gallery bounced off of the texture of the oil paint of this particular piece fascinated him in the most peculiar way. He didn’t think that Hyunjin had the ability to make something so soft and fragile in his repertoire! From the details of the gauze over the model’s lap to the soft flick of charcoal at the inner corner of her glimmering eye left him speechless. Every stroke was cared for and thoughtfully placed; so unlike the rough textures of the charcoal his friend was so known for dabbling in. Each shadow had a highlight that balanced it. The composition of the woman’s figure was simply spectacular. He wondered how much time he devoted to this one; it was clearly the centerpiece of the exhibit.
“So?”
Felix jumped a moment at the velvet voice behind him. The man of the hour, Hwang Hyunjin himself, had crept up behind him silent as the graves themselves. His friend was dapper in a black suit and tie while his hair was slicked back, fringe airly framing his face. He looked the part of the artist well enough and if Felix didn’t know better, he would say he looked like he was having fun. The earthy smell of tobacco followed him, however: a telltale sign of the evening’s stress and his friend’s discomfort.
“This one in particular’s stunning,” Felix mused, turning back to the painting. “She would have loved it, seeing it up close like this.”
“I invited her. I texted her, but she never responded,” Hyunjin whispered. He paused, the champagne flute in his hands suddenly more interesting than his closest friend. “I would have thought she would have wanted to see them.”
Felix’s gaze ran around the wall of the gallery. Each painting held a familiar curve, a similar wave of femininity that would pass the common viewer’s eye if they didn’t focus closely enough. He knew that this gallery was for you; that Hyunjin’s work was for you. When you left him two years ago without a trace, the hole in his friend’s chest festered into a sinkhole of obsession. It was as if the more he drew you, the more he painted your moles, your scars, and your curves, that he might be able to summon you back from the depths that you ran to, like Orpheus singing to free Euridice. That you would be in his arms again and all would be right. He could stop worshiping for just a moment and finally celebrate that his heart was whole again.
But Felix knew better. You were in the arms of someone else now.
“The night’s still young, Jinnie, she may come still,” he responded, rapping Hyunjin on the shoulder. “Don’t give up hope just yet.”
“I never will, Felix,” Hyunjin said. He gazed up at the painting with tears on his lashes threatening to fall. “I can’t. I won’t. Not until she knows I’m still here for her. Wherever she is, wherever she goes… I’ll always be thinking about her. She’ll always be a part of me.”
Felix gave a sad smile and hugged his friend tight to his chest. “I’ll let you finish up here for the night then. Get home safe, lover boy. Call me in the morning and I’ll help you pack everything up with Chan.”
Hyunjin nodded dumbly. His eyes never left his painting. 
—-
Felix traipsed down the steps of the gallery, his phone pinging as soon as service was restored.
>> How’d it go?
He smiled softly as his thumbs tapped away at the glass screen. > You were everything, my love. Just everything.
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