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#(seeing the things i struggle with and hate most about myself being exhibited by her)

ridleymocki · 2 years

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So I finally watched Netflix’s Persuasion and yes, I pretty much hated it, but not for the reason you’d expect. My Austen-loving friend and I set aside a whole night for this. We watched three films as follows:

Appetizer: Persuasion (2007) with Sally Hawkins and Rupert Penry-Jones

Main course: Persuasion (2022) on Netflix with Dakota Johnson and Cosmo Jarvis

Palate cleanser: Emma (2020) with Anya Taylor-Joy and Johnny Flynn

Watching things in this order really threw some things into relief. Now, obviously as an adaptation Persuasion 2022 is inaccurate in ways people have already explained. There are significant disparities between the film and the source text (Anne’s a wine lush now?). There are also egregious anachronisms in costuming, hair, and makeup (through pure oversight the side characters end up being the most historically accurate). But, that aside, in my writerly opinion this isn’t even a competent stand alone film. You know the whole rule of “show don’t tell”? This film is fundamentally incapable of following that rule. Everything its told -- verbally, explicitly, almost condescendingly -- to the audience.

There seems to be a fundamental lack of trust in the audience, and our ability to interpret visual cues like facial expressions and tone of voice. There literally is nothing in this film that is conveyed subtly on good faith that people will understand what’s going on.

This is a faith that Austen herself and previous adaptations had in abundance. A key theme in much of Austen’s work is that because of social mores and the rules of propriety, people couldn’t just say what they meant, but had to obfuscate and convey intention through subtlety like double-speak, tone, facial expressions, etcetera. Think Darcy helping Elisabeth into the carriage in Pride & Prejudice (2005). Emma (2020) also does this particularly well; a good example is when Mr Martin runs after Harriet to advise that the road is flooded and she should take another route - meanwhile their facial expressions are full of an aching longing and pain, and while he’s talking about roads he’s really saying I still care for you even though you rejected me. And the Sally Hawkins Persuasion (2007) spares no amount of film in showing longing, yearning looks between characters, while Hawkins does something I would call ‘lung-acting’ where she conveys emotion merely by how she struggles to take a breath.

Netflix’s Persuasion wouldn’t know subtlety if it hit it over the head. The writers, for example, presume that we need not only the image of Anne crying in the bathtub to understand that she is sad and anguished, but that for proper comprehension we also need Anne telling us directly how awfully terribly sad she is (and this is one of the better parts of narration she has).

The choice to have Anne talk directly to camera, in some misguided attempt to replicate the charm of Fleabag, means that Johnson spends much of her dialogue in pure exposition which is neither interesting nor necessary. Plot points that could be made obvious from making the characters actually, you know, interact are substituted with sweeping faux-prophetic explanations of Anne’s relationship to others from her own mouth.

Moreover, other characters make a particular point to express how wonderful Anne is, verbally and very on-the-nose. I can’t direct-quote because I can’t bring myself to watch it again, but Louisa, Mr Harville, Mr Elliot and others all verbally extol Anne’s virtues in a rather heavy-handed attempt to convince the audience that Anne is really, truly, a very good and clever woman. But the thing is, you don’t need that if your character is behaving in a way consistent with those aforementioned virtues. Because then we can just see it. Show, don’t tell. And fundamentally, Johnson’s Anne Elliot does not behave consistent to how others describe her.

In the 2007 adaptation with Sally Hawkins, we as the audience see her exhibit deeply capable and compassionate behaviour, so that when characters later on sparingly praise these characteristics in her, the audience already agrees with it from the evidence of our own eyes. By contrast, the Netflix adaptation alters some fundamental points at which we see these virtues displayed.

When Little Charles falls from the tree, this is how it plays out in the book: “ Anne had every thing to do at once; the apothecary to send for, the father to have pursued and informed, the mother to support and keep from hysterics, the servants to control, the youngest child to banish, and the poor suffering one to attend and soothe; besides sending, as soon as she recollected it, proper notice to the other house, which brought her an accession rather of frightened, enquiring companions, than of very useful assistants.”

Ron Bass and Alice Winslow (the writers of the script for the Netflix adaptation) have Johnson’s Anne peace-keepingly agree to miss the party and watch over the boy purely to diffuse Mary’s complaining. Then, she gets drunk on a windowseat overlooking the party, presumably while the child himself is asleep downstairs. She opens the window and yells out to Wentworth, ducking down below the window when he hears and looks over. She accidentally knocks over a gravy boat in her inebriated stumbling and the gravy drips onto her head where she sits hiding on the floor.

This disparity between book and film is not just a quibble about wanting the source material accurately honoured. It is a problem because through making this change to the plot the narrative loses the characterisation of Anne that it fundamentally needed in order to be coherent. The audience requires scenes of her deftly handling the crisis with little Charles’ fall in order to validate Anne’s characterisation as capable, good in a crisis, level-headed, and strong. We need to see that this is the case, not merely be told it is so.

For another example, the case of Anne and Mrs Smith is treated thusly in the book (skip to tl;dr if you cbf): “ Anne had gone unhappy to school... and Miss Hamilton... had been useful and good to her in a way which had considerably lessened her misery, and could never be remembered with indifference... ”

And also: “She was a widow and poor. Her husband had been extravagant; and at his death, about two years before, had left his affairs dreadfully involved. She had had difficulties of every sort to contend with, and in addition to these distresses had been afflicted with a severe rheumatic fever, which, finally settling in her legs, had made her for the present a cripple. She had come to Bath on that account, and was now in lodgings near the hot baths, living in a very humble way, unable even to afford herself the comfort of a servant, and of course almost excluded from society. Their mutual friend answered for the satisfaction which a visit from Miss Elliot would give Mrs. Smith, and Anne therefore lost no time in going. She mentioned nothing of what she had heard, or what she intended, at home. It would excite no proper interest there.”

and: “ Anne found in Mrs. Smith the good sense and agreeable manners which she had almost ventured to depend on, and a disposition to converse and be cheerful beyond her expectation. Neither the dissipations of the past--and she had lived very much in the world--nor the restrictions of the present, neither sickness nor sorrow seemed to have closed her heart or ruined her spirits.”

Tl;dr: Mrs Smith is Anne’s old school friend who is widowed and poorly. Despite being of significantly higher social status than Mrs Smith, Anne goes to visit her in Bath on the pretense it will raise Mrs Smith’s spirits and doesn’t tell her family about it. Anne rekindles an affectionate friendship with her, even admiring her for her optimism.

But... Mrs Smith is erased from the Netflix version.

Again, this is not a quibble about accuracy, it’s about whether the text can actually function coherently.

In losing Mrs Smith, we lose everything that this friendship contributes to the text. We lose the understanding that Anne values the qualities of other people’s characters over their social status or wealth (particularly when we contrast her like for Mrs Smith with her dislike for Lady Dalrymple). We lose that insight that she has this mentality contrary to the values of the rest of her family who are insufferably social-climby -- i.e.: unlike them, Anne’s not a snob. To wit, we lose the evidence that Anne’s rejection of Wentworth eight years ago was definitely not for classist reasons, as here she is having a social connection to a poor and disabled widow without a care for their class difference. We also lose the second example (along with Wentworth) of how Anne’s affection for someone can be long-running and endure many years without contact, and thereby, how in this respect her character is constant and loyal despite the logical conclusion from her mistake eight years ago and Wentworth’s suppositions.

We as the audience not only need these things, the other characters need it, too, in order to judge Anne’s character as highly and praisingly as they do. The showing of these qualities in her through her actions legitimises all the conclusions other characters make about her, and helps those characters and the audience both to comprehend how and why the plot plays out as it does, with Anne and Wentworth’s eventual reconciliation.

The absence of this observational evidence from the Netflix adaptation means that the other character’s insistence on Anne’s virtuousness is compensatory. It aims to do what the movie visually and narratively has not provided. I can only presume that the writers realised they were writing-out these character-building moments in favour of snappiness and comedic scenes, and sought to reinstate Anne’s integral characteristics through dialogue.

But, it doesn’t work.

We end up with characters doing one thing and saying another. And I as an audience member felt particularly patronised for having all the authorial intentions spelled out to me.

And so, even if I put some mental blinkers on and pretend the source material doesn’t exist. Even if I pretend the anachronisms in the worldbuilding, dialogue, costuming and plot are deliberate and considered a-la Bridgerton. Even if I try to the see the merits of the film for themselves (I thought Cosmo Jarvis was quite good and wish he was in a better version, and Mia McKenna-Bruce was kind of delightful as Mary in a way Mary never is). Even with all that, the Netflix version is not a functional text. And it’s not bad because of any of those other reasons, it’s bad because of that. It’s badly written. It condescends its audience. And the facts of the events don’t match the testimony of the characters. It just, makes no sense.

#persuasion #netflix persuasion #dakota johnson #jane austen #pride and prejudice #persuasion 2022 #emma 2020 #austen

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sab3rto0thed · 2 months

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they live in a house―two houses, actually, in los angeles. they are supposed to be actors, their skin a monument to the gods above, a holier-than-thou exhibit that they get away with better than the formally religious people in my life.

i simmered all summer before they left, picking the legs off of spiders and talking about kissing. this was before i wore my tall socks, and after i stopped asking for money―the belt was my best feature. it narrowed my waist and made me helpless. i floundered like a girl at sea.

all of the boys i have kissed, at least, are starkly transparent with me. they say shit like "no one has ever looked at me the way you do when i touch you―" i am stretched across my bedroom floor, various pieces of flesh tapered to the wall. it is a fucking crime scene in here. it's awful, he says. my eyes are so wide and i am always trying to push him away―stop it, stop it. i am fifteen. i want you to leave.

i tell everyone that will listen about this. i show them the nails i stitched underneath the skin in my wrists, an arts-and-crafts projects that took nearly two decades to finish. it was decided before i was born what i was going to be: resolutely, absolutely fucked. in return, you tell them all about my mom―how we shove each other in the hallway, how i steal her hard liquor and drink until i black out in my bed instead of going to class, how she wishes i was dead. there are no secrets with me.

and the second one, who kept trying to press his knuckles up against my thighs, with the waist that was thinner than mine―he bought me a baja blast before he abandoned me at my doorstep, which was probably the kindest thing a boy has ever done for me. i never let him see my tits and he never made me touch his cock, so we called it even. i mocked him as my boyfriend and he bought me mcdonald's and lied to my face―he loved lying, up until the very end. he taught me everything i know. that was how i knew it was over. in two years, it was the first truth he had ever told me. it was also the last.

his girlfriend takes my starbucks applications. she fucking hates my guts in very apathetic means―she doesn't want me dead in any particular way, but if she saw my face on the news, she wouldn't even blink. she would think: that bitch had it coming. i am a meddler, a mockery. i bludgeon myself in my bedroom until my gums bleed.

her mother makes her cocktails when she pleads. at parties, she finds a corner to get high in at all times, like she is scouting out the area. (we do this differently. after the first time, i always need an escape route.) whenever she has sex with the boys i love, they don't make her plead like they do me. i am a master at comforting her leftovers, wiping their tears, trembling when i unzip their jeans. when i sat alone in grade school, her mother sat with me and told me that her daughter struggles with being lonely, too. we have been tethered since day one. i tell her about a song and she tells me to rot in hell.

i see her in most of the women i find comforting―a smile, a sly word, a lock of hair, a nose ring. that expression, holier-than-thou, her skin flecked with paint. jesus died on the cross for girls like her, and i am incomparable. even if i wasn't fundamentally fucked up, a liar and a thief, i still would be nothing compared to her. i set my head on fire and burn at the stake. i am never going to be anything. i will never have my own car or a decent bleach job, or a list of boys volunteering to fuck me in the backs of their cars. i can't be her.

the third was the best in his own polite way―he took me on three dates first, at least, and he tried to pay for everything. i think the way his mother raised him wouldn't allow him not to―he gave me forty dollars every time we kissed, because if he didn't, his guilt would eat him alive.

guilt is stupid. guilt is reckless. i don't feel guilty for a single thing i do. my cat has cancer, and although i could scrounge up the three thousand dollars he needs to survive another year, i will not. i blinked back tears the entire way home―"if i don't do it," i told my grandma, "then i'll have killed the one thing in the world that trusts me the most."

i have grown out of having most of those fits. i carry no guilt, which sobered him up really quick. the first few times i left him hanging he could pass―and i did try to warn him about me. it's not my fault that he didn't listen. i told him very plainly, in the best english i could manage. i can't have sex. i get all shaky, my head fucks up. my arms bend the wrong way. i can't do it, baby.

he found someone else to fuck. my friends say she has the face of a frog and my family all thinks she's a whore, but i actually liked her quite a bit. it was a learning curve, because she thought i was untouchable―you know, scouting for spots to smoke weed, a good bleach job, my own car. and i never begged. i couldn't help but pity her, because she was just like me before i had become what i am now.

i have never been untouchable, although i think part of the key to being untouchable is to do things with your entire chest―lie, laugh, linger. worship no one, and make sure no girl is grabbing the crystals on your neck. don't let them into your bedroom. don't let them push you over. lie about the significance of others, including them.

he tried really hard. i am an expert in the art of coercion―it's not something i practice, but i applaud the art. when it's well-done, it's a really lovely thing. it'll stop your breathing for at least six months. he was awful at it. he tried to guilt me―i am guiltless. it is hard to be invincible―pretend-invincible, whatever―when you are afraid. so i said, alright, whatever. we fucked. i bled all over the sheets, and i made him ache all over again. he hated me―in the end, they all do.

i told you, i said softly, when i was pulling my clothes back on. this is how i am. this is how it is. i am irreversibly fucked up. you owe me more gas money. a month later, he broke up with me―he didn't tell me that he was fucking that other girl, but he didn't have to. i knew exactly where my cunning charm stopped. he had passed the line a while ago.

his ex-girlfriend was the one point of kindness in my life. before all of this, she had been the only decent person in the world to me―the one who sat me down at parks, who noticed when i was quiet in a group. this was the girl who held me in doorways and steadied my legs, the girl who didn't let me eat alone at lunch even though she didn't know my last name. we were barely friends, and i hated her smile, because it was the loveliest thing i had ever seen―i was never lovely.

i am sorry, because i know he pushed her the same way he pushed me. he is awful at coercion―we both knew it. we both gave in anyway. there are not many things that are the same about her and i, but we do share this. the closed throats, the fumbling while friends are in the room, the shaded eyes. i think the biggest thing is, she learned to say no. i was always a little more pathetic.

and this is what i do―i lie, i linger. i broke the crystal necklace she made for my birthday. i ruin things, a natural gift. i wander the street at night until my throat is too heavy to hold it in anymore. i used to lay on my floor and scream into the carpet, because there was just something so wrong about me. i was twisted inside.

intimacy is not a love language, not to me. i try my best to stay away. i do things perfectly, in a structural pattern. cargo pants and the shirt a girl i loved gave me. i wash my hair, i simmer in the summer, i lay in only a bra by my open window in the evening. i write love letters to girls whose names i don't dare speak anymore.

there is a small thing called redemption. i grew out of los angeles. i try not to think too hard about my face on the news. one of my best friend always wants to see me when she comes home from college―i am one of the first faces she thinks of, she tells me. we talk about books in her bed―time loops and lovers and butterflies. she tells me that all boys push. if anyone ever pushed her, i would knock all of their teeth out.

it's not that she protects me, exactly. it's just that she lets me sleep in her bed―she talks on the phone with me for an hour whenever i get bad news. she thinks better of me than just a girl with a pair of scissors and a vengeance―she was one of the first people to make me a person. when she leaves, she leaves me alone in her bedroom. i study the snow outside of her window, the passport carefully laid by her mattress. it's not that she protects me, but she does give me room to breathe.

this is how it is now―room to breathe. i have all of those things now, time loops and butterflies and lovers. my friends take pictures of the moths on my hands. they trace the lines of my new tattoo and they beam at me when they see my car, the one i never thought i would get to buy. (i did.) in may, i will drive it to utah and my aunt will give me a good bleach job, and then we will get cherry-cinnamon cokes.

i have been lonely for so long. i don't do anything slowly, and my tests are more like battles. i was telling a boy about the placement of my tattoo―how i used to crush jagged pieces of glass in my bedroom at night, hoping so hard to bleed out. he told me he would never have guessed, but he is glad i am still breathing. sometimes, it is hard to believe that not everyone sees the same suicidal teenage girl with the hollows underneath her eyes. sometimes i still see her in the mirror, and i am sick in her memory. no one is protecting her.

someone once told me―if it is an emergency, call. this man does not want to see my face on the news. and it is not as if he is exactly protecting me, either. but he reads everything i write, no matter how awful i think it is. he lets me hug him in the middle of winter, because we couldn't do this last year―he was gone last year, and i was awful. he helps me with scholarships and college applications. i know he would drop everything if i asked him to, if i needed him to. i told him about my dying cat, because if anyone knew the right thing to say, he would. it is so hard for me to have faith in others―when it comes to him, i hold fast. we are writers, english majors, a little reckless. i'm afraid i might love him until the day he dies. infinity has never been an option for me.

a friend was driving me home a few weeks ago. i was giving him all of these truths about me―i am trying to be more honest, you know. he told me he doesn't want to sleep with me―i told him i don't want to sleep with him, either. i just act like i do. we exchanged very soft looks, like the beginning of understanding. he sees when i am tired. very rarely has anyone ever been good at that without months of hard work―i am not a very easy person to love, i don't think. i lie a lot.

when this all started, four years before, it was my cat who i was staying alive for. he would hear me crying in my room in the middle of the night and meow at my door until i let him in. we would sit on my floor and i would hold him, wrap my arms around him and sob into his fur. he hated being held like that, but he let me―we've been best friends for a long time. and i know infinity has never been an option for me. but if anything were to be infinity, it would be those nights with the closest thing i have ever had to a home. we would lay in the dark, watching the sun rise from my bed. he would head butt my chin. i would kiss him right between the eyes.

he cries whenever i'm at work. i've never had a love like that. i know life will go on. but sometimes i still simmer in the summer, and i don't know what i am going to do this summer, when there is no one for me to hold at five in the morning. it is hard to grasp sometimes, but everything changes. growing pains are not unique to me, but i don't think they will ever stop hurting.

i will never go to los angeles. i will never be a great actor, holier-than-thou. and i am trying―every day, i am trying―to be more of a person. sometimes, the truth of that simply has to be enough.

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dutchdread · 3 years

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No offense bro, but why are you always so protective of Cloud? No disrespect to you or anything but I've heard quite a bit of different opinions and theories on Cloud myself and I do agree with the people who say that he takes Tifa for granted. Going through trauma in the past is not really an excuse for his behavior. He also does act like he's the only one who has suffered in his life. Do you have other reason to defend him other than the fact that you "relate" to him? Just wondering.

Sorry for the late reply, my life has basically left no room for hobbies these past months. Your question is hard to reply to because I am not sure what you mean when you say I am protective of him. I guess you mean I defend his actions? Specifically in ACC? Firstly let me state that there is a difference between being a good character and being a nice character, there is also a difference between agreeing with someones actions, or just understanding them. Personally, I never really liked Cloud, especially not when I was younger. A lot of my defense of Cloud doesn't come from me personally liking him, but from me thinking he's a good character. I also think Snape is a good character, but I don't like his actions, and I don't defend them, although I still understand them to a certain degree. I should also say that as I started to understand Clouds character more, I also started liking HIM a bit more, although I still don't like the things he did, and would very likely not be friends with him. But I do understand why he did what he did and cannot be too critical of him because of that. You've probably heard that before you judge someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That's great advice, if you want to judge someone, you should imagine what it would be like to be them, however, I've noticed that too often when people try to walk a mile in someone elses shoes, they refuse to take their own shoes off first. They don't think "what would it be like to be him", they think "what would I do in that position". But Cloud is not you, and you cannot judge him by how you would act, you've not gone through the same things he has, your thought patterns aren't the same etc. This matters because too often I see people judging Clouds actions in ACC, and establishing his motivations by saying things that boil down to "If I were in his position, I would only do those actions if I loved Aerith/didn't love Tifa/whatever". But they're not Cloud, and they're not understanding how Cloud thinks, and that it's different from how THEY think. But like you said, I do see some recognizable elements of myself in Cloud, which is why I do understand his actions, and why I feel relatively certain in defending them, because I see them coming from a good place. It's common for me to react to things in a way that others find counter-intuitive. Let me give you an example, my brother once was mad at me because I had not told him my girlfriend of several years and I had broken up while I did tell a random stranger at the pub. He said that he felt like he wasn't important to me if I told a random stranger but not him. The truth was the exact opposite, I love my brother, and could not bear to face him for some reason, as I told him: "if not caring enough was the problem, then I wouldn't have told a random stranger". I see people exhibit that same lack of understanding when discussing Clouds actions, where they feel like his actions must be the sign of him just being a bad person, or not caring. But ask yourself what is more likely, that Square-enix wants their hero to be a bad person, or that you simply are misunderstanding the character? I understand why people don't get Cloud, Cloud suffers from obvious mental health issues, and mental health issues simply are not something that the general public understands, even today. Not only that, but Cloud went through the most insane series of traumatic events anyone could ever imagine. He had an alien parasite in him, saw his entire town murdered before his eyes, then saw Zack murdered in front of his eyes, then saw Aerith murdered in front of his eyes, and just when he started living a peaceful life he is forced to watch his child succumb to sickness in front of his eyes, and then he finds he himself is dying. All this on the psyche of a man who had had a fear of failure ever since he was a child, spent most of his life essentially in war, and had a severe identity crisis as well. Do you think you can honestly judge him by going "that's not what I would have done"? Would that not be incredibly

presumptuous? Have you suffered from depression as a result of severe post-war PTSD and a lifelong feeling of inadequacy combined with a fear of failure and the belief that many of your loved ones died because you failed and were inadequate? Because that's the context in which you have to view Cloud when watching Advent Children. Saying "Going through trauma in the past is not really an excuse for his behavior" is just incredibly short-sighted, your behavior is determined by who you are, and who you are is determined by what you go through in the past. You can't expect a broken child to become a well-adjusted adult when being a well-adjusted adult is the result of having a normal childhood.

I also don't want to cause offense, but this really is a mindset you should change, because this mindset is one of the most pervasive and damaging ones in our society, it's the one that probably bothers me most when I hear it because it makes zero sense. It's like breaking a robots self-repair unit, and then being angry at it on the grounds that the self-repair unit should have fixed it. It's also very insensitive in general, it's the equivalent of saying "why are you depressed, just stop being depressed", people don't choose to be depressed, people don't choose to have a fear of failure. People don't choose their emotions, they're just there. They can be influenced by behavior over time, sure, but behavior is equally influenced by who you are and your emotions, which, as mentioned before, is determined for a large part by your past. People don't just "snap out of it". They fight and fight and fight, and sometimes they win and break out of the spiral, and sometimes they lose and it breaks them.

FFVII, and especially Advent children, is all about that struggle, and during those struggles you will have high-points, and low-points. FFVII shows all of those. It shows Cloud trying, it shows Cloud wanting, it shows Cloud failing, but it also, ultimately, shows Cloud prevailing. Judging Cloud for not breaking out of the spiral by the time of Advent children, when he was mentally only barely 18 years old, and when he started at the worst place anyone could ever imagine, is just not reasonable. It's the modern day equivalent of "let them eat cake", something that can only be said from the place of privilege of not knowing what the struggles of the people you're critiquing are actually like. So having that out of the way, lets look at Clouds actions from the perspective of Cloud. Cloud is a young boy, and he's in love with the girl next door, he wants to get her to notice him. One day said girl walks up a mountain and he follows, she falls off a bridge and ends in a coma. Cloud followed her because he's in love with her, and he gets the blame from the adults. Cloud internalizes this, and its important to imagine what this must be like for a child, to have the adults all tell him it's his fault that the person he loves ended up hurt. "your fault", "your fault". Afterwards Cloud starts thinking Tifa hates him and starts acting out. I think this is a good moment to point out btw that this child has no father figure. This is the start of his feelings of failure and inadequacy, he blames himself for not being able to protect Tifa, failure number 1, he thinks that if he were strong, he'd be able to protect her, he thinks that if he were like Sephiroth, then even Tifa would have to notice him. Now until this time Cloud is not an asshole, he's a bit of a rebellious kid yes, but notice that he's not a bad kid as much as he's a kid who wants to protect someone, has no direction, and is acting out. So Cloud thinks he's not good enough, but he leaves town confident that he'll become good enough, and even makes a promise to Tifa. All this follows logically from what we know about Cloud, and tells us a lot about how deeply seated these feelings are. Becoming Soldier wasn't a small thing, not some small passion project that he just came up with one day, it's the result of the things that happened in his childhood and he left everything behind make it so. He told the girl he loved, he promised, he boasted. And then he failed. Failure number 2. He comes back to Nibleheim and can't bear to look Tifa in the eye and admit that he couldn't do it, that he's a failure. His entire life so far has revolved around this and he wasn't good enough. So here we have Cloud, not in a great mindset, thinking he's a failure, and what happens? His entire town is murdered by the person he admired, someone he worked with. His Mother is killed, and Tifa, the girl he PROMISED to protect, gets slashed open so badly that apparently she needed to have her ribcage reinforced with metal. I think we can all agree that this by itself would be enough to potentially scar a person for life. (Cloud, not Tifa XD) So what's next for the boy who left town in order to become a hero? Well, he gets captured and experimented on for 4 years, during which his mind and sense of identity is bombarded with memories and knowledge of the lifestream in the form of mako, muddying up his thoughts. Cloud already had a weak sense of self as a result of his childhood, it's why he failed to enter Soldier and now this distaste for who he is makes him extra susceptible to Jenovas influence. The next thing Cloud sees, (he didn't consciously experience the 4 years of mind-fuckery) is his best friend getting killed trying to protect him, because Cloud wasn't strong enough. Failure #3. At this point, in Clouds mind the list of people dead because he could not protect them, because he's a failure, include his mother, his entire town, his best friend, and as far as he knows, the girl he loves. This is his life. His mind is broken, he hates himself, he doesn't want to be himself,

he has a mind-altering parasite inside of him trying to adjust his identity and Clouds just goes "I reject this reality and constitute my own". And why wouldn't he? Why wouldn't he want to live in a fantasy world where he wasn't a failure, where he made it into soldier, where he was cool and successful and not a disappointing failure? Zack tells him to be his living legacy and Cloud goes with it, then he runs into Tifa, Jenova adjusts Cloud further based on Tifas memories of them and rejoined with the girl for whom he joined Soldier Cloud is unconsciously all too willing to play the part. FFVII starts and it doesn't take long for the cracks in his fake persona to show, he meets Aerith, and becomes her bodyguard. He gets to be the hero he always wanted to be. But then, even as "Cloud strife, soldier first class", Cloud is still a failure, the plate still drops, killing thousands, he gives Sephiroth the black materia, he beats up Aerith, and ultimately, fails to save her as well. Tifa was the First Failure, and Aerith was the Final Failure. Even as a soldier, Cloud still couldn't save anyone, he loses even more faith in himself, he doesn't know who he is, he doesn't trust himself, and then when he also loses Tifas trust in who he is, he just breaks and gives over to Jenova/Sephiroth. Even Hojo calls him a failure. Cloud feels like a nobody. Now mentally weakened, under the influence of jenova cells, he gives Sephiroth the black materia AGAIN, and meteor is summoned. Another entry on the long list of moments Cloud can look back on in shame later on in life. He falls into the lifestream and again his psyche is under attack. We know what happens afterwards, Tifa finds him, cares for him, and saves him through his feelings for her. Cloud realizes who he is, realizes he's weak, and goes after Sephiroth without lying to himself. In the end he defeats Sephiroth mentally and is supposedly rid of his direct influence.

But that doesn't mean that this mentally 17 year old is now fine, we should remember these events when analyzing ACC. Cloud has been in constant fighting/war/peril ever since he left home as a child, and is now a traumatized 17 year old in a 21 year olds body. Novels and other materials give us an insight into how Cloud thinks during these times, and how he thinks about himself. We hear him say that he's going to live because that's the only way he can atone for his sins. He talks about wanting to change, and about believing he can change because he now has Tifa. He's a man (boy) who just exited war, and wants to be positive, but is still clearly blaming himself. We see that this initially goes well, we are told that Cloud experiences peace and happiness that he's never experienced before. We're also told about the things that make it go badly, when he has to deliver flowers to the ancient city for instance. While Cloud regained the sense of who he was the belief that he wasn't good enough, that he was a failure, was never solved, if anything it was put on hold until he got his memories back, and now he is forced to deal with it.

While he is no longer directly manipulated by Sephiroth he's still suffering from PTSD and, most notably, survivors guilt. He blames himself for the deaths of Zack and Aerith in particular, and starts visiting the church. Now most people might think it's natural to avoid places that make you feel bad about yourself, but that's not how a depressed person thinks, Cloud thinks he deserves to feel badly he WANTS to punish himself, he WANTS to feel bad. He's ashamed of the moments where he's carefree and laughing with Tifa. Why should he get to be happy when Aerith and Zack are dead because of him? He shouldn't be happy, he should be in pain, he should remember them, not doing so would be an insult to their memories, he must never forget how he failed them! That's how Cloud is thinking. We know of course that this is non-sense, Aerith and Zack wouldn't want this, if anything it's this mindset that is tarnishing the memories of Aerith and Zack, but that's not how a mentally unwell person thinks. Cloud wants to atone, and thinks he finds salvation in Denzel, whom he finds at Aeriths church. He thinks that by saving this life, he can, in some way, make up for all the death he caused. Tifa has a similar belief when she finds out Denzels parents died in the plate crash. And when Denzel joins the family, and Cloud has path towards redemption in his mind, things start getting better again. Because this is the cause of the problems Cloud is having in ACC. When Nojima says:

first off, there’s the premise that things won’t go well between Tifa and Cloud, and that even without Geostigma or Sephiroth this might be the same

This is the conflict he's talking about, he's not saying "Tifa and Cloud are incompatible, it has nothing to do with Sephiroth", he's saying "if Sephiroth didn't show up during Advent children, Cloud and Tifa would still be having problems because Cloud is going through survivors guilt."

But the good times don't last, Denzel has Geostigma and Cloud cannot find a cure, Denzel....is going to die. Cloud, has failed again. Not only that, but Cloud catches Geostigma....Cloud is going to die. And THIS is why Cloud leaves in Advent children. And you have to look at this as Cloud. Cloud said he was going to live to atone for his sins, but instead he's going to die. He won't atone for his sins, even worse, he's going to leave Tifa and Marlene behind. He failed again. He couldn't protect Denzel, he potentially brought an infectious disease into their house as well. Literally all Cloud can think about is that literally everything he's ever tried has ended in failure, everyone he's ever tried to protect, he's failed at. Do you understand how easy it would be for a person like this to fall into the trap of thinking "I deserve to die", "I don't want Tifa and Marlene to see me die", "Tifa and Marlene are better off without me anyway", "they'd be happier if I weren't here". Etc. Now we know this is nonsense, but come on, how many instances have you heard of depressed people genuinely believing that their loved ones would be happier and better off if they just didn't exist? However, throughout the movie, Zack, Tifa, and Aerith, all confront Cloud, and urge him to not give up. Cloud eventually does try again, and ultimately finds redemption not by being stuck in the past, but by letting the past rest and be beautiful (a lesson Cleriths unfortunately never learned). "I never blamed you you know, not once" "I want to be forgiven. By who?" "Isn't it about time you did the forgiving?" In the end, Cloud moves on, and therefore, so do Zack and Aerith. Aerith and Zack walk into the light, Cloud plants flowers on Zacks grave, and lets Zacks buster sword rest in Aeriths church, now no longer rusting, but shining. Instead of the past being a negative reminder, Cloud lets the past be beautiful. Cloud was doing Aerith and Zack a disservice by remembering them the way he did, because it was ruining his life, it wasn't a good thing, but it did come from a good place, from a good man whose ashamed of not being good enough. Yes, it harmed Tifa, people going through these things often do hurt those around them, but it's not because they're bad people, or even weak, but because people are imperfect and Cloud has gone through hell, both internally, and externally. Are his actions really that weird or deplorable? "He didn't even go save the kids!" Yes, he's hesitant about saving the kids, why shouldn't he be? Everyone Cloud tried to protect or save, ended up maimed or worse, or as Cloud puts it: "I can't even save myself". "He left Tifa alone!" Yes, he thinks he's going to waste away and die, can you blame him for not wanting to put Tifa through that and for thinking she'd be better off without him? "He drinks!" Wouldn't you?! Who wouldn't want to forget that stuff? But in the end, He's only gone for about a week, he never intended to harm Tifa, he never physically harmed Tifa or cheated on her, his entire life revolved around wanting to be better for Tifa and blaming himself when he wasn't good enough, how is it reasonable to say this man takes Tifa for granted when the fact that he thinks he has to BE BETTER in order to be worthy of being with her has been a constant throughout his entire life and story? He DOESN'T take Tifa for granted, that's why he's beating himself up, that's why he leaves, not because he thinks he's better than her, or that he'll always have her, or that she'll follow him like a dog, or something like that. But because of the opposite, because he thinks HE is not good enough, that SHE would be better of without him. Saying Cloud takes Tifa for granted, is honestly, simply, wrong. It's 180 degrees the opposite of what is happening in FFVII, the biggest constant in Clouds life, is that he doesn't take Tifa for granted, and I don't understand how anyone could argue otherwise.

#cloti #FFVII #ffvii crisis core #ffvii advent children #ffvii remake

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bowiebond · 3 years

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I’m spouting Sam ship dynamics now cause Bowie (Me, Myself and I) has poor impulse control:

SamSteve

Two streets, 1) the forever will they, won’t they? Or 2) the married couple who spend all their time together, no seriously guys, it’s becoming an issue, Steve you weren’t even invited to this party why are you dropping off brownies—?

SamBucky

The two guys who’s share a mutual friend who kind of hate each other, but then one day one them laughs at the others joke and they reluctantly have to become friends; only to later realise they are actually super compatible and able to call each other out of their bullshit without falling apart so they get married and raise pets together.

SamNat

The classic “this woman could kill me with her pinkie and I’m very into that” on Sam’s side mixed with a bit of “I see you’re struggling and reserved so I’m going to slide in there with my sunshiney-ness and make you smile everyday”, but Nat’s the side of the pairing that is just endeared constantly by him because how is he so kind and sweet and I know you can handle yourself but I will do everything in my power to make sure no harm comes to you, but I also trust you to save my ass when I do stupid shit.

SamRhodey

Begins with “I’m your biggest fan, you’re my biggest inspiration” but eventually turns to “I see that you are so much more than a hero, and I can relate to the man underneath the suit I respected so dearly, and I just want to give you to world and show you it will always be worth fighting for, and I want to do that together with you forever.”

SamTony

This dynamic is all about the long intellectual talks, the silly debates, the prying into each other’s soft spots in order to spring a leak in the bottle that’s been capped so tight for too long. It’s the long nights filled with nightmares and the morning apologises with coffee and tea. It’s the guy who runs early and the guy who scoffs at waking up that early when really they’re up at that time most days simply because they haven’t slept. It’s dysfunctionally functional meeting functionally dysfunctional pair and it seems like it shouldn’t work but with enough effort on both side it does.

SamThor

It’s the pair that people pass off as the two balls of sunshine, but are actually terribly and horribly sad inside most days. They cope with humour and burying emotions, until they can’t anymore. They’re the couple who talk for hours after one of them finally bursts. The ones that cuddles at night because the idea of being without Sam terrifies Thor after losing so much, and the idea of not having Thor within reach when he knows he’ll be gone for months again leaves Sam aching with loneliness that is yet to come. But they’re also the couple who go on dates every week, holding hands and pointing out things they didn’t notice last time at their favourite ice cream store or the fossil exhibit. They’re the couple that marvel at each other’s brilliance; Thor’s knowledge of space and Sam’s knowledge of people. They bond over war, over tragedy, but they also bond over family and home and silly humans, so petty. They’re a couple that come off one dimension and end up being layered beyond belief.

SamChalla

They’re the couple that seems super cool and suave but they’re both giant dorks and huge romantics at heart. They try to go on dates — beautiful waterfall viewings and picnics with exotic fruits and walking in the moonlight — but it always ends up in disaster — T’Challa falls into the water, Sam finds out he’s allergic to a fruit he can’t begin to describe the texture of, and they both end up getting caught making out in the garden under moonlight by Shuri and Bucky, which is embarrassing as all hell. TChalla shows off his kingdom and his people with pride and Sam shows off his hometown and his friends and even though it’s so wildly different in retrospect, it’s home and they love both places equal in time.

I Will Probably Make a Part Two cause I have a headache hhhh

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serendipityjxmn · 3 years

Text

Chapter 12

TW: None

Words Count: 1.4k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 13

The air is tense that morning. Your brows furrow, thinking that you have to share the ride with Jimin now that everyone knows he’s your husband. Nearing the car, you notice there’s unfamiliar face among Jimin’s security. He usually has two with him, one is his bodyguard and the other being his bodyguard as well as his driver. You never really get the chance to know them apart from their name, considering you’ve never shared the ride with your husband.

He doesn’t say anything through the ride, his eyes glued to his tab, no doubt reading the morning news. You stare outside through the window, lost in your own thoughts.

Once you reach the company, you stand behind your husband but Jimin looks back and grabs your hand in his, startling you. It takes you a moment to process everything but not long for you to realise it’s just for show yet you can’t help having fluttered heart, walking hand in hand in public with your husband for the first time.

Reaching your desk, Irene simply watches the two of you as he speaks several things to Mina who’s at the desk as well, but haven’t yet let go of your hand.

He turns to you then and you stiffen immediately. “See you at lunch.” He says, way too soft and you feel like punching him for how he’s making you feel. His thumb and index finger cups your jaw briefly and gently before he leaves for his room.

It’s just a show, you tell yourself.

Another cons of all this travesty, is that Irene is handing you a lot of things that require you to personally see Jimin. She seems keen to let you handle him entirely.

“What do you think about this?” Jimin’s voice echoes in the whole room.

Huh? You look at him, puzzled. Is he really asking for your opinion? “I- I don’t really know all about- umm, maybe you should ask-“

“If I need a professional’s advice I would’ve asked Jinyoung. Besides, you sat through the meeting with me as well. I need your opinion.” Jimin says firmly.

You look at him hesitantly. You honestly have no idea about business world. But since this relates slightly about art, which you might know an inkling about, you answer him. “I think it’s good if you accept Wangji Co to handle the cover. They’ve been in the industry for long yet they always have fresh ideas. Apart from that, you can ensure you have a good term with Taiwan since you have their company involved.”

He remains silent for a moment, staring at you so deeply you silently pray you’re not flushing. Then he nods. “We will be meeting one of the arts director in charge. You will accompany me.” He glances at the watch. “I’ll be done in 10 minutes.”

He simply says and you take it as a sign you’re dismissed.

You take one last look in the mirror. This is your first time going out in public with your husband. Although it is work related, you’re still nerved out. You’ve never accompanied him to any event. Irene apparently never does too. Sure enough. When you google your husband, he never seems to have pictures taken with other women.

When you head downstairs, you feel your heart skips a beat when you see your husband, dressed smartly in impeccable black suit. His ash grey hair had been styled and he looks so good looking you almost want to cry.

Jimin on the other hand though, has his brows furrowed and lips pursed when he takes in your appearance.

“What on earth are you wearing?” He asks once you’re close enough.

You gulp. You’ve searched through every dress in the huge closet in the limited time Jimin gave you and this was the most modest dress you could find. You’re wearing a long dress that has a huge slit in front from your thigh to bottom. Luckily, the slit is not high enough to reveal scars you have on your upper thigh. To make it worse, the dress has such huge cleavage opening space, you’ve tried bringing your long hair to front in an attempt to cover your cleavage as much as you can. “I- I’m only wearing what’s in the closet.”

He tongues his cheek and you swear he looks so hot. “I’ll speak with Mrs. Lee about your wardrobe,” is all he says before you’re ushered into his car.

Even by looking at his side profile, Jimin looks so stunning you can’t help but stare in awe.

“Take a picture, I think that’ll last longer.” He snaps and you look away immediately. How does he even know without even looking at you, you shake your head.

It��s a launching event as well as exhibition by the director Jimin’s supposed to meet, Mr. Choi.

He speaks with several people and you just obediently follow after him, taking notes of who they are. A while later, you feel the urge to pee but you decided to wait until the main launching event is done before excusing yourself to the washroom.

As soon as you’re done, your eyes seek your husband immediately between the rows of art and crowds of people. As you make your way through the hallway, you find yourself drawn to an art hung on the wall, illuminated with a warm light above it, further enunciating its creativity.

It’s a woman, alone and she’s sitting down hugging her knees.

Something tugs your heart and the more you stare at the painting, the more you feel your eyes are watery.

“It’s called the Isle of Sorrow.” A voice beside you says, making you jump. You turn to see Jimin, his eyes towards the painting in front the both of you.

“They say she lost her will to love again that’s why she’s wallowing in sorrow.”

“It could also be she’s unable to love the person she desires.” You hesitate but continue to say when Jimin remains silent. “The painter.. I think he’s potraying contradiction. She’s in sadness and the background should’ve highlighted that as well, maybe monochrome settings? Yet the brushes are bold and the colors the painter chose are strong. Her love.. is strong. But she can’t give it to the other person. Perhaps because she loves someone who she shouldn’t, like an irony the life is.” You finish. Seconds later, your eyes widen and you bit your lip. What on earth did you just say?

A heavy silence sets between the two of you in the midst of casual conversations and regular laughter heard in the hall.

“Didn’t know you’re into art.” He says after several moments.

You only smile sadly. You don’t know a lot of things about me.

“I think art’s fascinating. I like when I can have control on it. What it can become. How it turns out. I don’t have a lot of it, growing up.” You say softly.

Jimin looks at you. “A lot of what?”

Your eyes find him too and you both lock gazes briefly. “Chance to change things.”

He holds your gaze steady before you look down first. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to hold his gaze for a long time, it’s hard enough to breathe as it is with him around.

“Me too.” He says quietly and you slowly look at him again. You notice his eyes has sorrow in it too, like the ones reflected in the painting before you. “I’ve always had to live the path set for me. Kinda funny, cause I’ve never been close to my parents but they expect me to receive everything blindly. There’s always pressure on my shoulder and I can never let myself fail,” he laughs as if mocking himself. “The moment I show my weakness, everyone flocks around me to take what I have. And anyone close to me can easily turn away from me.”

You stare at him as his expression hardens. You have to say something to comfort him. “Jimin.. I.. I would never.. do that.. to you.”

He looks at you then. Eyes pierced into yours. “You will. Once you know the reason behind this marriage. You’ll hate me too.”

You don’t know what to say to that but the coldness behind his words make shivers run down your spine making you shudder.

Jimin draws his breath before he shrugs his coat out of him. He then pulls you towards him, making you gasp. “It’s okay, you don’t have to-“ you start when he put his coat around your bare shoulder.

“Just stay still.” He says.

His hands are in front of you, fixing his coat snd dangerously close to your breast. You look up and there’s no mistaking his eyes that roam over your curves so you awkwardly struggle to look anywhere else.

He’s your own husband for god’s sake.. why do you have to feel so shy?

A/N: So I actually ended up posting this chapter as scheduled 😂 there’s a sudden surge of things to be done this weekend and it was pretty hectic 🥺 I’m sorry guys I’m a mere human I hope you guys aren’t mad 🥺

Oh and i’m not really the most knowledgeable about art, but art is subjective and it all depends on how one intepret so yeah 😂

anyways, hope you guys enjoy this chapter I thought it ended in a pretty cute way hehehehe

Link to Chapter 13 Posted on 210426 9:00PM

#serendipityjxmn #serendipityjxmnmrpresident #mrpresident #mr president #bts fic #bts au #bts smut #jimin au #park jimin #parkjimin #kpop fic #jimin smut #jimin ceo #jimin mafia #bts mafia #jimin x reader

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thebookreader12345 · 4 years

Text

Sink or Swim

Pairing: Kelly Severide x reader

Summary: Y/N is the newest member of Squad 3, and when out on a dive rescue, things take a turn for the worse

Requested: No

Warnings: slight swearing and a near death experience

Word Count: 2,064 Words

“Everyone, can I have your attention please” Chief Boden announced to his firefighters, who all turned to look at him, meaning they saw me standing next to him. I had my hands tucked into the pockets of my jacket, and I was rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet. “I want you all to meet Y/N L/N. She’s going to be filling the open spot on Squad 3.”

“Uh, hey,” I say and wave shyly at the group of people sitting in front of me. For a second, the room was quiet, but it wasn’t long before a blonde haired woman stood up and rushed over to me, wrapping me in a big hug.

“I can’t believe we’ve finally got another girl! You’re going to love it here. I promise. I’m Sylvie Brett” the woman stated.

“Nice to meet you. I was the only girl in my old Firehouse, so when I walked up, I was really hoping there’d be a girl here. By the way, whoever owns the mustang parked out front, nice whip” I comment.

“The Mustangs mine” a man with salt and pepper hair spoke and raised his hand. My eyes immediately gravitated over to him, and when I saw who had spoken, my cheeks flushed. The stereotype for a firefighter was a young, handsome, muscular man, and the guy in front of me fit the description perfectly.

“Oh, Y/N, this is Kelly Severide, your lieutenant,” Sylvie told me.

“Nice to meet you, Cap’n” I speak and give him a small smile.

“Where you from, L/N?” Kelly asked me after he heard me use foreign slang for the second time this morning, the first being when I said “whip.”

“The Big Apple. I just moved here a few weeks ago,” I answer.

“NYC, huh? Why’d you move?” a man, who’s jacket read Cruz, questioned.

“Family reasons” I stammer out. “But I’d prefer that we don’t talk about. Lets just say I wanted a change of scenery. Chicago is very different from New York, but good different, you know? I like it here.”

Just then, an alarm blared from everywhere in the building, and everyone shot up out of their seats, heading towards the apparatus floor. Now I knew one similarity between New York City and Chicago; there’s never a boring day at work.

“Follow me,” Kelly ordered and took my arm, leading me out of the break room. “I’ve got a few rules. One, obey my orders. I don’t like firefighters who exhibit insubordinate behavior, and I absolutely hate doing paperwork for that. Two, if you’ve got a suggestion for how to approach a situation, speak up. I don’t come up with all of the good ideas. And three, never stand around doing nothing. There’s always people who need help, so help them.”

“All right. I think I’ve got it,” I say as we got to the apparatus floor where my gear was already laid out for me.

“Oh, and L/N, welcome to Firehouse 51,” Kelly said.

..................................................

It had been a few weeks since I started on Squad 3, and I was loving every minute of it. Capp and Tony, the other two guys on Squad besides Kelly and I, were very funny and easy to get along with, so I had no problem fitting in. The rest of Firehouse 51 was also inviting, and I really felt at home here. However, there was definitely one thing I enjoyed the most, and that was hanging out with Kelly. Every shift, when things were slow, Kelly and I would sit on the roof together. He would smoke cigars while I chewed on my polar ice gum, and we would have conversations, whether it be about something stupid Otis had done that day, or something in our personal lives outside of work.

“Oh. Did I tell you about the prank I played on Mouch the other day?” I ask Kelly and blow a bubble, popping it with my lips.

“I don’t think so,” Kelly said and took another hit of his cigar. “What’d you do?”

“I stole his secret stash of chocolate” I admit. “And then I blamed it all on Otis.”

Kelly laughed and glanced over at me, meeting my gaze. I could feel myself getting red, so I turned away and looked at the sky. I had a huge confession to make, and it was that I had gained a crush on my lieutenant.

“Um, Kelly, there’s something I have to tell you” I confess.

Kelly put his cigar down on his tray and leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees, clasping his hands together in front of him. “What is it?” he asked.

Just before I could tell him that I had feelings for him, the alarm went off inside of the firehouse calling for Squad 3, dive rescue. I got out of my chair and made my way over to the ladder, sliding down it expertly like I had done many times before. Getting my gear on took seconds, and as soon as all of us were in the truck, Tony started the engine and drove out of the garage. It didn’t take long before we got to the river, where a young, red haired woman, who was drenched in water, was waiting for us.

“You have to help them. Please,” she begged.

“Ma’am, calm down. Who do we need to help?” I ask.

“Them,” the woman shouted and pointed out into the middle of the river where a boat was submerged halfway underwater. I could make out a few people on the deck, and at the moment, it looked like they were all safe.

“Can none of them swim?” Kelly questioned as we started putting on our gear, which was basically a second skin to us.

“No. I’m the only one who can” the woman responded. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. We just wanted to get one last ride in before summer ended.”

“Hey. Everything is going to be okay........” At the moment, I realized I didn’t know the woman’s name.

“Marissa. My name’s Marissa” the woman said.

“That’s a beautiful name. I’m Y/N. I promise that we’re going to get everyone to safety” I say and grab my oxygen tank from the truck, slinging it on my back.

The rescue itself did not take long. The four of us each took about two trips to the boat, easily getting the people back to land. However, as soon as I began taking off my wet suit, the panic started.

“Where’s Davie? Where’s my son?” a man called out and looked around. I glimpsed over to the boat, and that’s when my eyes caught sight of a boy struggling to stay above water.

“Kelly,” I alert him and point to the water.

Kelly followed my finger, and when he saw where I was pointing, he cursed. “Our tanks are out of oxygen. We never refilled them after the last dive.”

“That’s cool. I’ll just go in without one” I say and step out of my suit.

“Hell no. Y/N, that water is freezing cold. You’re not going out there. I’ll call in for backup,” Kelly announced.

“What? No. By the time you do that, that kid’ll be dead. On my first day on squad, you told me to never stand around because there are always people that need help. That kid needs help, so I’m going to help with” I share before jumping into the water.

As soon as my skin touched the water, I began to shiver at how cold it was, but I pushed past that and continued swimming. Kelly was calling my name from the shore, but I ignored him and kept going. When I was a few feet from the boy, he sank beneath the waves.

“Shit” I mumble and take a deep breath. Then, I dove deeper into the water, my eyes scanning everywhere for the boy. That’s when I saw Davie struggling to swim to the surface not far from me. He was holding his breath, which was a good sign, and he was still conscious. I swam over to him and got behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I kicked my feet in an attempt to propel us up and out of the water, but the current was too strong. I was starting to loose my breath, and I could tell Davie was too, so I did what any firefighter would do; save the victim first. I pushed Davie as hard as I could to the surface, hoping that someone else could get to him, and that’s when I felt the sudden urge to breathe. I couldn’t hold my breath anymore, and when I breathed, all I took in was water. Suddenly, I got lightheaded, my eyes drifted shut, and I lost consciousness deep in the Chicago River.

Kelly’s POV

I waited a few minutes, and Y/N still hadn’t resurfaced with Davie. Where the hell was she? At that moment, Davie appeared back on the surface, but Y/N was nowhere to be found.

“Capp, go out and get the kid. Now!” I demand. “I’m going to look for Y/N.” Capp nodded and jumped into the water with me following close behind. I swam out to where Davie was, and as Capp took the boy, I dove under the water. I looked around, hoping to find Y/N, and thankfully, I did, but she was unconscious. I made my way over to her, grabbed her body, and kicked towards the surface. When I got above the water, I tugged Y/N’s body with me to shore. Tony and Capp helped me lift her out of the water, and when I got back onto land, I pressed my ear against her chest. She wasn’t breathing.

“I’m going to call an ambulance,” Tony informed me and rushed towards the truck.

I took a deep breath, pinched Y/N’s nose, tilted her head back, and then I placed my mouth to hers. I breathed into her mouth a few times, and when I pulled away, I watched to see if she began breathing again, but she wasn’t. “Come on” I cry out and breathe into her mouth some more.

“Ambulance is 5 minutes out,” Tony said to me.

“She doesn’t have 5 minutes. Come on Y/N. Breathe,” I mumble and press my mouth to hers again. No matter how many times I tried, Y/N did not seem to come back. Just as I was about to give up, Y/N turned her head to the side and coughed up water. “Y/N! Thank god you’re okay.”

Y/N’s POV

The feeling of water leaving my lungs did not feel good. As I continued retching, Kelly helped me turn my body so that I wasn’t choking on my own spit and whatever else was coming up my throat. I coughed one more time and sucked in a huge breath before laying back down on the pavement.

“Y/N,” Kelly spoke and cupped my face with his hands.

“Hey, Cap’n,” I mutter and give him a tired smile.

“What did I say about following orders? You know I hate filing insubordination charges,” Kelly said.

“Maybe you can forget about that just this one time,” I whisper as I heard ambulance sirens getting closer.

“Only if you promise to never do that again. I mean it,” Kelly told me.

“Okay. Deal. Look, there’s something I never got to tell you,” I manage to breath out.

Kelly only smiled and pressed his lips to mine, giving me a quick kiss. “I like you too,” he assured me as an ambulance parked a few feet away from us. “Just focus on getting better now, okay? I promise we can talk about all of this as soon as you’re back in business.”

“Sounds good to me. Hey, could you ride with me in the ambo?” I ask. “I may or may not be afraid of hospitals.”

Kelly laughed and kissed my forehead. “Of course. Now, lets get you treated. I want my girl back on Squad as soon as possible.”

“Your girl? I thought we were talking about that later,” I say with a grin.

“Just shut up and accept it,” Kelly said.

“All right. I can’t believe Kelly Severide, the Lieutenant of Squad 3 and the hottest firefighter in Chicago likes me. I can get used to this,” I murmur.

___________________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13 @campingmonkey @winterberryfox @anotherfan07 @giagma

#kelly severide #kelly severide x reader #chicago fire #squad 3 #firefighters #kelly severide imagines #x reader #one chicago #one chicago x reader #one chicago imagines #one chicago imagine #chicago fire x reader #chicago fire imagines #chicago fire imagine #kelly severide imagine

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kiri-ah · 3 years

Text

Something To Sink My Teeth Into || he/him pronouns version

Themes: Supernatural AU, Vampire AU, strangers to lovers, angst and fluff (so much fluff), something similar to those symbiotes from Venom and Hanahaki disease combined, interplanar travel, Jaemin and the reader are oblivious and Chenle gets mad about it, long conversations about vampires, vampires can't cry

Pairing: Vampire!Jaemin x Male Human!reader

Warnings: mentions of blood (minor), mentions of eating (human food and vampire food), character death, Chenle is kind of a butthole, in depth conversations about humans and vampires which include biting and blood drinking, Yuta's house gets set on fire

Word Count: 26.4k

Summary: A trip to Poland goes terribly wrong - or maybe terribly right - when you're bitten and kidnapped by a vampire. Between passing out, almost dying multiple times, and falling in love, you have a lot on your plate. Oh, and the magic. Right. Teaser here.

A/N: Okay so uh... this wasn't meant to be this long. I hate my brain sometimes. *sigh*

This has only been edited by myself and a friend of mine, please excuse any errors. I worked hard to make the best experience possible. For that reason, please note that this is the !he/him pronouns version! They/them pronouns may be found here, she/her pronouns here. Please enjoy!

You were on holiday in Krakow, Poland. For your twenty first birthday, your parents had gifted you a weeklong trip over Spring Break, and you had been having the time of your life. You had found Krakow rich in historical influence - it had been the capital of Poland until 1596 and still had remnants of the past, like a Renaissance-era trading post and sections of the medieval walls that surrounded the city. Plus, the section of the city that you were staying in was very close to the city center, where you discovered aforementioned trading post, called the Cloth Hall, and an old cathedral named St. Mary’s Basilica.

The first night of your stay, Sunday night, you had struggled to sleep, because of the time difference and the excitement of arriving. You stayed in Monday morning, trying to at least rest a bit, and then ventured out to the nearest coffee shop when that didn’t alleviate your sleepiness. The barista had whipped up your favorite pick-me-up morning drink, and you went to sit outside in the fresh air, surveying the plaza over the rim of your cup. It was just the right time of year, you thought, because it was nice and warm without being too hot, just how you liked it. The sun had started to rise about the buildings around you, illuminating certain structures and giving them an unearthly glow.

When you finished your drink, you put the cup into the collection bin and walked back out onto the main square, just enjoying the sun on your face (over the sunglasses you had bought in the airport after forgetting to pack yours) and letting the warmth sink through your limbs after the tired night. One of the unfortunate things about the time of year you had travelled was the tourists. There were families and older couples and people your age taking trips with their friends, and most everyone stayed right where you were staying as well: right in the heart of the city. To avoid as many crowds as possible, you had booked a tour of St. Mary’s Basilica for Thursday morning, and reserved entry to the underground museum for this afternoon.

Tomorrow you planned to go and see Grodzka Street, where you were going to try and find a souvenir. In the same neighborhood was an ancient church called St. Andrew’s Church, which dated back to around 1079. On Wednesday, you were going to brave the crowds of people in the Cloth Hall for the same purpose, and also because it was a historical landmark that you just needed to explore. Wednesday afternoon was blocked out to be a rest period, as was Thursday morning. Then on Friday you were planning to go and see the Wawel Castle and Cathedral. From there you would explore the various attractions on the property, and then return to the plaza later to eat. That afternoon, you planned to go to the Jewish cemetery. Saturday was blocked out for a trip to Auschwitz-Birkenau, which was a Nazi concentration camp and a Holocaust memorial out of the main town. When you returned to the hotel late that afternoon you would pack and get ready for your flight Sunday morning. It was going to be a very full and very fun week. Or at least you hoped it would be fun.

You explored the main square a little bit that first day and unpacked your things, making sure you had everything you needed for your trip and you didn’t need to walk to one of the convenience stores nearby.

The days passed quickly, and you finished each one completely satisfied. Everything and everyone here was so wonderful and you started to wonder how you had never heard of this place before this trip. It was absolutely one of the best places your parents could have picked.

On Friday morning you got up bright and early (well, actually, it was dark and early) to go to the Wawel Castle. You had heard from a travelling site that tickets sold out fast and it was important to get there early in the day, and you tried to heed that warning. At 7am when you arrived it was already busy, but thankfully not so much that the lines were too long. You wandered through the small exhibits and around the grounds. It was a bit more chilly today and you wrapped a scarf around your neck as you shivered, trying to find a less windy spot to hide out for a second. You found a little spot where you could take a moment and recharge your inner heater and were doing just that, burrowing into your small scarf mountain, when you realized that a person stood next to you. You looked up through your lashes at them and caught your breath - holy cow he had good genes. He had a sharp, sloping jawline that stopped at a chin less pointy than you had expected. His lips were plush and round, although he needed some chapstick. His hair was pushed around by the wind but despite that he looked, well, amazing. Sections were bleached, giving his hair an almost halo-esque look. His nostrils contracted as he inhaled and then his eyes cut down to yours, dark and deep and was that eyeliner?

He smiled then, a smirk that seemed far too self-assured for the situation, and leaned over towards your exposed ear. “I can feel you staring, baby,” he murmured. The top of your ear, which had been feeling rather numb, flamed hot at his words. It almost hurt, the sudden jump into heat. You turned towards him fully, only eyes exposed by the scarf mountain. Your hair whipped around as the wind shifted again, but he didn’t seem cold, although he was in only a pair of black skinny jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black jacket. The jacket caught your attention for a second - it was studded with thousands of little rhinestones, like a varsity jacket gone shiny. Then he shifted closer into your space and you were forced to look back at his eyes, glittering in a way that seemed almost predatory. You sucked in a breath through your mouth and started to back away.

“S-sorry,” your breath came out in a whisper. Nobody seemed to notice your interaction. “I didn’t see you there, I’ll just leave.” You turned to go before his hand, surprisingly strong, clamped around your arm and pulled you back into his chest.

His voice came out in a growl as he blocked your scream with his other hand. “I am far, far too hungry for you to leave right now, precious.” The strength in your legs seemed to dissipate at his tone, you knew you needed to defend yourself, but ‘hungry’? What was that about? And precious? The hand wrapped around your arm let go and started unwrapping your scarf, exposing your face to both him and the frigid wind. He started to lean down, and you pressed your lips together tightly. At the very least, he wasn’t getting in your mouth. You may have lost the strength in your legs, but not in your will. Then he bypassed your mouth and leaned into your neck, inhaling and causing cold air to course along the column of your throat. He chuckled when you shivered, then bit into your neck.

The pain was overwhelming, you could feel each individual blood cell crying out, every organ protesting, your head started to pound with it. It hurt far more than even a dog bite should. It hurt like a shot at the doctor going on and on, echoing through your body and you were powerless to stop it. The pain flared in your neck and your brain seemed to slow down as the blood flowed away from it and into his mouth. You crumbled into him, and without detaching from your throat, he scooped you up into his arms, holding you there to be his personal bloodbag. You had long since stopped trying to scream, it was too difficult, too much effort.

Vampires, your thoughts whispered, before the pain covered you and you passed out, collapsing completely.

☽༓☾

You woke up in a... cozy cottage? There wasn’t any sign of your attacker and, in fact, no sign of anything vampire esque either. You looked around the single room at the soft fabric couch (covered in boho style throw pillows), the kitchenette (complete with pre packed food), and the window, through which you could see a combination flower and vegetable garden. There were two doors off of the room you were in, one that led towards the lush green outside, and one that must have concealed the bathroom.

The moment you realized this, you also realized that you really needed to use said bathroom, and struggled to plant your bare feet on the floor. Your legs didn't want to hold your weight, and you crumbled to the rug with a whine. Two seconds later, the door to the outside opened with a swish of fresh air and there, outlined by the sun, stood the most gorgeous person you had ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. When he saw you on the floor, he groaned and ran a hand through his pink hair. "Shit, I'm so sorry, let me help you!" He ran over and you allowed him to half carry you into the bathroom. It wasn’t like you had any strength to protest, and he seemed nice. He smelled like sunshine on fresh earth.

Once you had finished using the toilet you tried to stand up again, now that you at least had some semblance of strength in your legs. After a few tries you were able to support yourself against the bathroom counter, with more than half of your weight against the frigid tiles. Your legs shook as you started standing more straight up, and you made a high pitched keening sound that you didn’t even know you could make; the man’s worried voice came through the door. His voice was higher and slightly panicked.

“Are you okay? Do you need help? Are you hurting too much?”

Your voice, which you hadn’t managed to make work properly, came out lower than usual and scratchy. A portion of your throat ached as you tried to make the sounds audibly. “Yeah,” you rasped out. “I can’t stand up properly.”

“Do you need me to come and help?” There was something about his voice that just made you want to trust him. It was soft but strong and even though he had toned down the panic, it still had soft tremors of worry running through it.

You thought about it for a second and considered yourself in the mirror. You looked, quite frankly, horrible. Your hair was a mess (more than usual), your eye bags were sagging unnaturally, and your eyes themselves were dull. You did look like you needed help. You sighed. “Sure.”

A moment later he opened the door slowly and stepped into the space with you, putting one arm around your waist to help support you. You relaxed some of your weight onto him and closed your eyes briefly. It would have been a wholly relaxing moment if not for your stomach. It grumbled up at you and you thought for a moment that it sounded like an angry octopus trapped inside of you. Then you blinked to clear the thought away as the man laughed. It was deeper than you expected from a man with pink cotton-candy colored hair, a low chuckle that rumbled through his body and, in turn, yours. You shook against him slightly with the movement and his other arm came to help you lean more against his body. He was stronger than you expected and you could feel the muscles in his arms shift as he reoriented himself.

“Let’s get you some food,” he said, smiling. “Unfortunately I’m not sure I’ll have much you’ll like.” You just nodded. Your throat was still throbbing uncomfortably where you were bitten and you weren’t sure you had the energy to even debate his statement. You were sure you would eat whatever he gave you. He led you into the main room again and helped you settle onto the couch. He walked over to the kitchenette and picked up a can of soup, then walked back to you to verify it was a kind that you liked. Once you had approved it, he went back and put it in a pot on the electric stove, starting to heat it up. As he stood over it, you had some time to think as you sat on the couch. The first thing you realized was that you still didn’t know what his name was, which was an issue. You couldn’t thank him properly without knowing his name. The second thing you realized was that you didn’t know where you were, exactly. The third was that you had probably missed your flight back home and your parents were going to murder you for it when you eventually got back. You shifted so you were more comfortable before trying to speak again. You started with the easiest vocal warmup you remembered and the man looked over at you with eyebrows raised.

“You good?” he asked. You nodded in response, hoping that your throat would relax and stop throbbing.

“Yeah, I think so,” you told him. “The side of my neck really aches where that man bit me.” His eyebrows furrowed at this and you thought maybe you just imagined it, that nobody actually bit you, but the pain was real enough in that moment and it was certainly real enough when he bit you. “Also,” you continued, “I still don’t know what your name is.” He seemed to think about this for a moment.

“I’m Jaemin Na,” he said eventually. “This is my house. And I think maybe we need to take a closer look at your bite, I didn’t realize it still hurt. Usually the throbbing goes away after a day or two.” You found yourself nodding along before his words sank in.

“Okay, uh, nice to actually know who you are now. I’m Y/N,” you said. There were suddenly many more questions floating around your brain. Usually he had said, which meant he had dealt with vampire bitten people before. How? Was he one? Why weren’t you a vampire? And how long had you been asleep for? They circled around your head like a dog chasing its tail until you realized that Jaemin was in front of you. It seemed like he was waiting for you to say something.

“Sorry,” you murmured. “What was that?”

“I said we have all the time in the world for you to ask me the questions I know you must have. Don’t psych yourself out. You’re safe.” Despite the fact that you knew next to nothing about him you found yourself once again trusting him without reason. He just seemed like a genuinely nice person, someone you could believe to tell you nothing but the truth.

“Okay,” you agreed, and it came out like a sigh. Your throat gave a particularly unpleasant throb and you unconsciously brought a hand up to rub at it. Jaemin’s hand fastened around your wrist and pulled it away, looking closely at your skin. He sighed.

“You’ve probably figured out by now that the man who bit you was a vampire. If you haven’t, have your moment of denial now.” You just looked back at him, surprised.

“Denial?”

“Yeah. Usually when humans find out about vampires for the first time they aren’t very accepting of it. I’ve had to replace my windows a few times from thrown objects.” You almost laughed before realizing that he was serious.

“Okay, well, I already got that, so go ahead,” you prompted.

“Great!” His eyes got just a little bit less heavy with your statement and he continued, “contrary to popular belief, vampires don’t actually turn humans all that often. If we had that little self control the whole population would be dead or turned already.” You noted his use of the word we and shuddered a little. He could attack you too? He seemed so gentle.

For the first time you noticed your soup in a bowl on the coffee table. Jaemin reclaimed your attention by speaking again. “We’re also pretty good at choosing who to bite, and when. We’re not heartless. We try to choose people with good metabolisms so that we can return them to Earth quickly.” At this you inhaled so sharply that he paused, looking over at you.

“We aren’t on Earth anymore?” you asked shakily. He shook his head with a quirk of his lips. That distracted you enough to calm down for a moment. He really was a gorgeous person. Was the word person still applicable to vampires? You didn’t know. He sucked you out of your thoughts again with a hand waved in front of you.

“No, we’re not on Earth. Where we are… it’s like a parallel plane of existence. Vampires can live here, do live here, in bigger bunches than we can on Earth. We call it ‘Vahmpyr.’ I always thought that was a really unoriginal name, but I was turned after it was discovered so I didn’t have much of a say. It would be like you trying to rename Earth.” He picked up your bowl of soup and stirred it around, handing it to you, before continuing.

“This is my vacation house of sorts, where I nurse humans who have been bitten back to their healthy selves. Generally we vampires try to keep one certified nurse or doctor in each coven just in case, more if the coven is large. It’s a handy skill to have. Especially if you happen to have parts of your coven who are as chaotic as ours.” He looked over at you and smiled wryly before adding, “I didn’t poison the soup, you know.” You looked down at your lap where the warm bowl sat and laughed under your breath before picking up the spoon and taking a bite. It was delicious. You flashed him a thumbs up with your mouth full and he smiled brightly again.

Once you had swallowed you asked, “how can you bite humans and not turn them? I didn’t know it was possible to not turn us.” He nodded like he was expecting this question.

“It’s kind of a strange feeling,” he told you. “Biting, I mean. It’s not like the human feeling of biting into a piece of meat. It’s just… it’s amazing. It’s like cold fruit on a summer’s day, hot chocolate while snow falls. It’s at once a feeling of absolute power and absolute devotion because tasting a human’s blood puts them above everything else, at least for a few moments. At the same time you’re aware that their body is falling apart and right into you. It’s intoxicating. Every once in a while you’ll bite someone that just tastes extraordinarily good, or meet someone with a unique and, pardon my language, delicious, smell. Then your body sort of automatically realizes you want them to stick around and releases the venom.”

“So,” you said, interested by his version of vampires, “if you bit me right now, I’d be fine?”

His eyes sparked with something new. Anger, you thought, or something close to it. “I just spent four days nursing you back to health and you want me to bite you just to see what happens?” he asked incredulously.

“No! I was just confirming. I’m sorry,” you murmured, and shoved another bite of the soup into your mouth for good measure. He sighed.

“I’m sorry too, it feels so easy to talk to you. I forget that you’re new to this.” You choked on your soup while he and he hurriedly patted your back as you regained your breath. “Are you alright?”

“Did you say you spent four days nursing me back to health?” you asked, head spinning. Four days. Four days. Four days. “I’ve been missing from Earth for four days?”

He deliberated for a moment. “Yes, and no. You’ve been off of Earth for four days, yes, but you aren’t missing.” You raised an eyebrow in response and he hurried to explain more. “I mean, obviously you’re here, and yes, you’ve been here for four days, asleep, recovering from Jisung’s bite. On the other hand, there’s still a you on Earth right now. That’s the interesting thing about Vahmpyr. We can bring humans back, with some effort, and while they’re here, a version of them is still on Earth. It’s still you. And if you go back, from what I understand, you get your other half’s memories back, like you never left. It’s quite the phenomenon.” He seemed completely serious and you were inclined to believe him, but this was insanity. Another you, a perfect copy, walking around on Earth while you hung out with the vampires in their parallel plane? You pinched yourself. It hurt, and you winced. Jaemin looked at you with this horrible understanding glimmer in his eyes like he was saying I know how this is. It’s weird and unimaginable but it’s here. Please don’t break any of my things.

Eventually you just kept sitting and looked back at him. “This really is good soup,” you said. He looked at you in surprise before bursting out laughing, face lighting up like the horizon at sunrise.

“You’re not going to attack me?” he asked between chuckles. “That’s the normal response. And thank you, that’s my favorite kind of soup too.” You shook your head, smiling back at him.

“I decided that there’s no changing it even if this is just a fever dream induced by an infected human,” you explained to him. “And wait, can you actually eat still? Like stuff besides blood?” In response he ran over to the small kitchen and grabbed a spoon of his own, dipping it into the bowl and moving it to his mouth. When he was done he smiled at you.

“I can still eat human foods. Nothing is as good as blood, of course, but I can still enjoy it. It’s just dulled by the transformation. And I’m glad that’s the stance you take on being transported to a different plane, I’ve known humans to react rather badly.” He took a moment to think. “For example, there was a woman who was convinced we had sexually assaulted her, which is a fair thought, but she wouldn’t let me explain anything to her. She ran outside as soon as her legs were strong enough and ran right into Lucas. He’s a really big guy, wide and tall and strong and such. She was so terrified she ran into my bathroom and I had to give her the spiel from through the door. Not the finest of interactions.” In spite of yourself you laughed. You could imagine the woman’s fear, especially if this Lucas was as infuriatingly gorgeous as Jaemin and the man who had bit you. You probably should’ve felt the same way, but something about Jaemin was just relaxing, and you felt safe with him.

“I get it,” you told Jaemin. “All of you guys; the guy who bit me - what did you say his name was? Jisung? Yeah, him. Jisung and you and probably Lucas, you all look like models which I guess goes with the vampire narrative, but it’s a little shocking since I’ve never seen someone so good looking. It’s nearly scary.” You looked back up to see Jaemin looking surprised.

“You think we’re good looking? Even after you got bitten by one, abducted by another, and have only heard of the third in a story about someone running away screaming?”

You shrugged. “All of that doesn’t change the facts. You’re still some pretty perfect looking human beings.” A moment later you realized what you had said and wrinkled your nose. “Sorry, uh, creatures. Is that offensive?” Jaemin laughed again and wow you could get addicted to that laugh. It was so carefree. You supposed that came with immortality.

“Technically ‘creatures’ is more accurate but isn’t very nice-sounding, even if we are unnatural monsters.” He said this as though he had come to terms with it. Even if we are unnatural monsters.

“I don’t think you’re unnatural,” you told him. “I mean, if there is a higher power out there then He or It or They created a whole plane for you and if not then nature did. I don’t think Vahmpyr would exist if you were unnatural.” He looked at you without speaking as you took another spoonful of soup.

“That’s… that’s a new way of looking at it.” He looked conflicted, like he was trying to reconcile your view of him with his view of himself. “I don’t think our plane was meant to exist though, by higher power or nature. Humans are beautiful because they age and there is room for change within your society. It’s hard to change an entire plane full of the unchanging.”

“Maybe so,” you argued, “but you’re obviously gorgeous on the outside, and on the inside it seems like you have a good system too. If I was a vampire I don’t think I’d take care of the humans I had bitten. It wouldn’t have occurred to me. They would all die. I would be dead, come to think of it.”

“That’s true,” he conceded. “You really do have a unique view of things.”

“Thank you?” It came out sounding more like a question than you intended. You finished your bowl of soup, licking the excess off of your upper lip. Setting the bowl back down seemed to break whatever spell had kept you in eager conversation with him. You supposed all of your questions had been answered, for now. Jaemin helped you get set up with Netflix on his TV and went back outside to his garden. He explained that you could call for him through the open window if you needed him, he would be right nearby. You nodded, already distracted by the opening scene of your show.

After a while you realized that there were low voices coming from outside. It sounded like Jaemin was talking to someone. You turned the volume down on the TV a little bit to listen. Maybe you could meet the infamous Lucas or someone else in Jaemin’s vampire family.

“... have to bring him to me?” Jaemin was saying. “You tasted him, you know his scent. This is painful. His scent is all over my things, my bed.” He let out a small groan and the other man with him chuckled breathily.

“Hyung, I didn’t mean for him to smell so good I swear, it was a spur of the moment decision. I was hunting in his area and his scent was so enticing. Plus, I was hungry!” You shuddered at the mention of hunting. This one, who must be Jisung, was far less civilized than Jaemin, it seemed.

Jaemin made an angry noise and his words hissed out when he spoke. “You think it was enticing out in the open air of Poland? On a windy day? I’ve been smelling him acutely on my things, in my house, for four days and it hurts. My venom has been going non-stop for the entire period and it’s not like I can just change him, he’s got a life ahead of him!” Part of your heart went out to Jaemin - he was trying so hard to take care of you and even caused himself pain for it. That explained why he had reacted so negatively when you asked what would happen if he bit you. You wouldn’t have been fine. You would’ve become like him. The thought didn’t cause the anger or disgust you thought it should have. It sounded nice, almost, to be like him. To stay in his safety for eternity.

“Jaemin,” said a new voice. It was strong and rough like tree bark lined his throat. “You can return him back to the real world in just a few more days and you’ll be free of him. It’s not like he’d want to stay here anyway, his friends and family are back on Earth. We can keep Jisung home and have him feed on Chenle until he learns his lesson.”

Someone, presumably Jisung, made a wounded noise. “I can control myself, I promise. Don’t make me feed on Chenle, Hyung, he doesn’t taste anywhere near as good.” Definitely Jisung.

“Jisung,” said Jaemin’s voice. “Don’t argue, you brought this on yourself. And me,” he adds as an afterthought.

Jisung’s sullen voice responded, “fine, Hyung, but Chenle isn’t going to be happy either, you know.” You thought maybe Jaemin must have nodded or something because nobody said anything for a while. You turned off the TV, suddenly bored with the program and head full of new questions. The top one on the list was why. Why did you affect them this way? Why did Jaemin treat you so nicely when you were hurting him? Why did Jisung sound like a puppy who had been reprimanded? Why did Jaemin and the other man have the power to ground him, essentially? Then there were the who questions. Who was the man with the voice like tree bark? Who was Chenle, and why wouldn’t he be happy? Lastly were the when questions. When would you be going home? When would you see them again? Would you see them ever again? When would Jisung be allowed to hunt again?

You were so deep in your head that you didn’t notice the door opening and Jaemin coming in, two men behind him, until he stopped and waved a hand in front of you.

“Y/N, you okay? I brought you some people to meet.” He stepped back and you forced your eyes to refocus on what was in front of you. When you looked up at him, he presented the two other guys like he was a car salesman and these were his favorite models. “This is Jisung, you’ve met him already although I don’t know if you remember him.” You nodded, looking over him. He had on a grey crewneck sweatshirt over a pair of black sweatpants today and looked far less terrifyingly beautiful flanked by his hyungs.

“I remember him,” you told them. “You’re the one who bit me.” You didn’t think it was possible for him to look more sheepish than he already did but he managed to, and shrank back so that he was standing half-behind the other man. The other guy had bleached hair falling messily over his forehead, and even though he was shorter than Jisung, he seemed to command your attention more. He had on a green sleeveless shirt that showed off arms rippling with muscles. You gulped, looking up at him, but then he smiled at you. His whole demeanor changed. He felt less like he was about to kill you and more like he might accidentally strangle you to death in a hug. His eyes scrunched up into little crescents and you found yourself smiling back.

“I’m Jeno,” he said, walking forward to shake your hand. “Sorry I didn’t come to visit earlier.” His voice still sounded like bark lined his throat, but less so now that he wasn’t bothering to limit his volume.

“That’s fine,” you replied. “I just woke up earlier today.” You glanced towards Jaemin; he looked like a proud mom watching you interact with his friend. “Jaemin fed me, and since then I’ve just been sitting here watching TV. I can’t find my phone, and even if I did I’m not sure I could walk over to it. My legs are out of practice.”

Jeno smiled again. “That’s pretty common for Jisung’s victims. We found out he has these little back teeth that make it more painful for the people he bites so they usually need more bed rest to recover from the strain on their bodies and the blood loss.”

You nodded, as though that made sense. They still let Jisung hunt with his unpredictability and extra teeth? That seemed a little irresponsible of them, but you supposed that Jeno and Jaemin weren’t that much older than him in the first place. You tried to bring up your next subject subtly.

“Speaking of recovery, when do you think I’ll be going back to Earth?” The change in the room was immediate. Jeno’s smile faltered enough for you to see his eyes, Jaemin’s shoulders slumped, and Jisung’s foot started tapping against the rug. “It’s not that I don’t like it here,” you interjected, “I'm just worried that my, uh, double self will get up to trouble and stuff. What if someone notices it’s not me?”

Jisung looked at Jaemin. “You either did a really bad job of explaining this or he wasn't listening, Hyung.” Jaemin glared at him in response and chose not to dignify the statement with an answer. Jisung huffed at him and turned to you. “It’s you, y’know, back on Earth. Like… when a starfish gets cut in half, both halves grow into full starfish again. Something similar happened to you. Same organism, same guy, just two different places. Is that a weird comparison?”

“What he means,” interjected Jeno before you could reply, “is that the you down there has all of your experiences and memories and the same brain. It’s the exact same person as you, just two versions of you. When you go back you won't even have a bite scar.” At this you lifted your hand to rub at the mark on your throat. You saw Jisung’s eyes follow the action and he licked his lips. You put your arm back down into your lap and swallowed, the sound echoing in your head.

Finally Jaemin spoke. “And to answer your question, as soon as we get you strong enough to walk on your own you can go back. I mean technically there’s a body waiting for you down there, but we don’t know what would happen if we sent you back faulty, so we like to be careful.” You laughed at his use of the word faulty and nodded.

“Okay. Do you guys have a portal or something that’ll take me back?” At this all three men burst into laughter and a high pitched squeal joined the mix, coming from the doorway. Yet another man was standing there, thin orange-dyed hair flopping as he doubled over laughing.

“A- a portal,” he wheezed out between laughs. “No, we don’t have a portal.” You threw him a disgruntled look.

“I was just asking…”

Jaemin looked equally off-put and said, “Y/N, this is Chenle, Jisung’s best friend and our second child. Sorry about his lack of a filter.” His lips pursed unhappily and you rushed to reassure him.

“No, that’s okay, I don’t know if that was stupid question. No feelings hurt, he’s fine.” Jaemin looked unconvinced, so you sat up more towards Chenle and reached out a hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“Oh is that your name?” he replied breezily, shaking your hand quickly. “They were right, you do smell good.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jaemin shift protectively.

“Chenle.” His voice came out a growl, raising hairs on the back of your neck. “Don’t you dare.” It was interesting, you thought, how this dynamic worked. From what you had heard with Jisung, Jaemin had always contained himself, like he was reprimanding his favorite child. With Chenle he seemed almost dangerous, like it was possible for him to hurt a fly, and things much bigger than a fly. You wondered if he was this way with all of his patients, or if Chenle just bothered him more with you than usual.

“I’m not going to, mom, chill out a moment.” Chenle, you decided, must be the bad egg of their group. Every family had at least one, and here was theirs. He seemed the most likely to hurt something for the fun of it, and it almost seemed like he should have been the one to attack you, not Jisung. You wondered, in the distant back of your head, whether he had extra teeth for biting like Jisung did. Maybe it was better not to find out.

“Please don’t call me mom,” Jaemin sighed in response, all of the fight leaving him a rush. His muscles were still tense, though, and he ran a hand through his cotton candy colored hair.

“Chenle,” said Jeno, “I think you and Jisung should go talk. He has news for you.” Jisung shuddered slightly, his nod small and tense. You remembered his reaction earlier, when he had been informed that he needed to feed from Chenle for the time being. Chenle looked between Jisung and Jeno and an expression appeared on his face that didn’t seem natural on him - uncomfortable confusion. What you had seen in this past tension filled minute was that he was self assured and rambunctious. Now you wondered if he respected Jeno, regardless of that. You supposed you didn’t really have time to find out, you would be going home as soon as you could walk on your own. Speaking of which-

“I need to use the bathroom again,” you said as Jisung walked out of the house with Chenle right behind him.

“You should try getting up on your own,” Jeno suggested. “The more you sit around the harder it’ll be for your legs to get strong again.” You nodded and used the arm of the couch to haul yourself to your feet. Your knees started shaking again and Jaemin hurried to support you a little, until you felt a little more steady on your feet. Once you did, you tentatively took a tiny step towards the bathroom. Your arms flew out to your sides to help with balance and Jaemin took the mother bird stance, worriedly standing within arm’s length to catch you if you started to collapse. Jeno watched from a few paces away and smiled at you.

“Let’s see if you can get to me, okay? Then we can help if you need support.” You nodded and gritted your teeth, shuffling forward on your weak legs slowly. The good news: you made it to him without falling or using Jaemin’s ever-there assistance. The not so good news: you practically fell into Jeno when you got to him, using his body for support. He helped you find your center of gravity again before acting as a crutch to get you to the bathroom.

“If you need anything,” Jaemin told you, “I’ll be right out here. Don’t over-exert yourself.”

“I’ll be fine, it’s just like one step to the toilet, and there’s a nice strong counter” you assured him, and closed the door behind you as you stepped away from Jeno’s warm strength. Immediately you felt weak again but you reached out to hold on to the edge of the counter while you walked and got safely to the toilet. Your legs screeched at you as you lowered yourself onto the seat and you relaxed a little bit once you were seated. Recovery was going to be hard.

☽༓☾

Two days passed in a blur of pain and people. You met quite a few new people, like the infamous Lucas (who was a giant baby and who adored you), a woman named Joy who had actual red eyes like the legends said, and a man that everyone called Ten. Actually, you weren’t sure if Ten counted as a man. He dropped by Jaemin’s house the third day, right after Jisung and Chenle had just left after getting some flowers from Jaemin’s garden. He walked in on tentacles, long and thick ones that wrapped around the door frame and curled and uncurled as he talked. He muttered something about wishing they would just admit they were gay and asked Jaemin if he happened to have clams. Jaemin, looking amused, supplied him with an entire bucket of the little creatures. Ten gave him a jar in response and flounced out the door without even looking at you.

“Jaemin,” you asked, “what, or who, was that?” Jaemin laughed happily and the sound was so perfect that you wished he would just keep laughing forever.

“Ten is kind of unique,” Jaemin said. “Obviously, he’s got tentacles, which is unusual, and then he’s also not a vampire so none of us can quite figure out how he can get here, to Vahmpyr. But he can see the future, sort of, which is pretty helpful sometimes. Warns us when we’re getting too active and need to be careful of humans. He’s also convinced that Chenle and Jisung are gay and that they just need some guidance.”

You couldn’t decide on a question to ask about these revelations, so you settled for a very intelligent sounding “huh,” and continued your walking around the house. You were doing a lot better now with your exercises and had been able to make it around the room without holding onto anything for support four times now. Jaemin laughed again and you felt yourself actually flinch from the force of his happiness. It was addicting, almost. He went back to his Gaelic scrolls, which he was translating for a man called Kun, who you had yet to meet.

You had a sudden thought and you found yourself needing to talk, to explain about the other day. “Jaemin,” you said, dropping into the seat across from him at the table with a low groan. “The other day when Jisung and Jeno came, you guys were talking outside, you know?” He looked up from the scrolls, giving you a raised eyebrow like ‘so?’

“So I may or may not have listened to your conversation,” you told him, watching as he gave you his full attention, clicking his pen closed and rolling up the scrolls gently. He didn’t look angry, exactly, more apprehensive than anything. Like he was back to worrying about you throwing things and breaking his windows.

“And?” he prompted, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them you saw something strange there, like fear. But certainly the immortal and beautiful Jaemin couldn’t be scared of you. You must’ve been interpreting it wrong.

“Well you guys were talking about my smell,” you started slowly. “And, uh, you said that you- that I was causing you pain. And I was just wondering, why keep me around? Why not take me to a human hospital, or just kill me? Or turn me? Why did you make yourself suffer?”

He inhaled deeply and then shivered a little bit. When he spoke, his voice was soft and a little scratchy. “For one, we’ve never had a case like this before. I mean obviously there have been people who have smelled good to me before, but usually I’m able to ignore it. With you… it’s like my vampire body can’t get enough of your scent. It wants to turn you, to keep you, in its selfishness. That part of me is weak, in its greed. And of course I couldn’t kill you, I could barely control myself when Chenle- when he-” Jaemin took a deep breath to steady himself. “He wanted to bite you. You smell good to our whole coven, to everyone who’s met you, at least, which is a first. Thankfully you don’t appeal to Jisung the same way you do to me though, because by now you’d be a full fledged member of the family. Jeno is really good at hiding it, but I could tell he wanted to drink from you too, when you used him to help you walk the other day. I think the only ones not affected by it are Lucas and Ten, although that could be because they’re both straight, I’m not sure.” As an afterthought, he added, “actually Lucas is demisexual, I think.”

Skipping over the bit about Lucas’ sexuality, you spoke, horrified. “I’ve been hurting all of you? Seriously, why not just make me go to a regular hospital on Earth?”

“Well it would be a little hard to just give you to a hospital on Earth and be like, ‘here, take this body which may or may not have a vampire bite in its neck,’” Jaemin told you. “And also because I haven’t given up on a patient yet, and I didn’t want the first to be because I can’t control myself. And as to why I didn’t turn you… I didn’t want to take your life away. I still don’t. I think your life is going to be a good one and I don’t want to steal that. That’s why you’re going back tomorrow.”

An empty feeling settled in your chest. “You’re sending me back tomorrow? I still haven’t met so many of your friends though!”

He leveled you with a stare. “The rest of my patients never got to meet any other members of the coven. This was a one and done. You don’t need to know the rest of them. Especially not Yuta or Hyuck, good gracious.”

Who are Yuta and Hyuck? you wanted to ask, but his tone implied the end of the conversation, so you refrained from forming the question. “Okay, uh, I’m going to go sit in the garden.”

Jaemin flashed you a barely-there smile, opening his scrolls again and clicking his pen open. “Mhm. Be careful.”

You went out to sit under a tree in his front yard. Actually there were a lot of trees in his front yard - his house was in a forest. He had neglected to mention that when he first told you about his home and you had found it fascinating how it worked. When you walked out, there wasn’t any path out of the small clearing that housed his cottage. When you imagined a person, though, a tree tunnel would open and you could go any which way you wanted. You had tried imagining your parents the first time Jaemin told you about it and it hadn’t worked. He had explained that it only worked for people on this plane of existence, which made sense. When you had imagined Joy, it had shown you a way to a small town. Jaemin had forbidden you to go anywhere without him in case someone got territorial or hungry and killed you by accident. You respected that, you didn’t want to be murdered, but you wanted to see Lucas, and talk to him. He had fun stories to tell of his best friends. Jaemin seemed a bit huffy. It would be fine to go and see him, right? You’d just go and be back quickly before Jaemin even realized you were gone.

You decided that you just needed to talk to a friend right now and focused your mind on Lucas, finding an apartment building in the largest vampire city you had seen so far. With a little more effort you could find his apartment, although you couldn’t see him. The trees opened and you glanced back at Jaemin’s cottage before setting off.

As you walked down the path you reveled in your ability to walk. After two days of walking in short bursts and trying to regain strength in your legs you were finally able to walk like a normal human being, no flailing arms or stops every few meters to take a break and rest your muscles. It was nice, after so little freedom within Jaemin’s one room cabin. You liked being out here better. You avoided tree limbs and roots as you went, always focused on getting to Lucas. At one point your focus switched from his apartment to a convenience store and you panicked, realizing that you couldn’t go there. There, you might actually get murdered like Jaemin had predicted. He hadn’t nursed you back to health and struggled through your scent just for you to go and get yourself killed. You waited, walking more slowly, until the view at the end of the tunnel switched back to Lucas’ apartment’s front door. You breathed out a sigh of relief and continued on your way.

It was fascinating to you how there was no life in the forest besides the plants. You didn’t hear or see any insects or birds and you wondered if that was because they were afraid of the vampires or if they just didn’t exist on this plane. You decided to ask Lucas when you got to his house. After a while you realized that the image at the end of the tree tunnel was no longer a moving image of where you wanted to go, but rather the actual thing, growing bigger as you progressed down the path. You found yourself increasing your pace in your hurry to see Lucas.

When you left the comfort and relative safety of the forest, you nearly ran across the street separating the apartment complex from the trees. You stumbled at one point and almost fell to the pavement but recovered and kept going. You entered the main door and started up the stairs, still hurrying a little faster than your body thought was necessary. You speed walked until you reached the third floor and started looking through the numbers, looking for a door marked with ‘311,’ the one you had seen in the forest while looking for Lucas. After a good few minutes searching, you located the hallway his apartment was in and walked down it, looking at the odd numbers on the right. They counted down from 39, so you had a ways to go. Part of you wondered if the vampires just didn’t care about your presence, because apparently your scent was pretty strong and you were sure that you were stinking up the whole hallway with your human-ness, but nobody had come to murder you yet.

When you finally got to the door labeled with a faded ‘311,’ you stopped to take a breath before knocking on the door. An uncomfortable pause (where you wondered if Lucas was out after all) later, the door opened and you breathed out a sigh of relief, only for the air to stick in your throat at the sight of a man shorter than Lucas, but much scarier.

He had dark brown hair, obviously lightened but only a bit. It fell over his forehead and stopped just short of his eyes. His lips set in a grim line as he looked over you before they pulled back into what should have been a heart stopping smile, but was instead a snarl, a grimace of distrust and anger. The feature that stuck out most to you were his eyes. You imagined that when he was happy, his eyes would glow with an inner light. Now they were dark and they promised violence.

No sooner had you come to this conclusion before he had you pinned against the opposite wall. “Give me one good reason,” he hissed, “why I shouldn’t just kill you.” His arm pressed into your throat, keeping you pinned against the wall, on your tiptoes to accommodate the height of his arm.

Lucas, I came to see Lucas, you tried to say, but it got stuck on the way out of your throat and instead what came out was a weak, “Lu…” followed by a wispy groan. The man furrowed his brow and moved to hold you against the wall by your arms so you could speak. “Lucas,” you gasped, air rushing back into your body and allowing you to speak once more. “Friend.” The man put you completely down now, on the floor, and you moved to massage your throat before his eyes, dark and threatening, halted your movement. Lucas certainly has a knack for choosing friends, you thought.

“Don’t move,” he growled, “Or I’ll throw you out our living room window. It may not kill you, but it will hurt.” Then he turned around slightly and called, “Xuxi! There’s someone here to see you!”

You heard shuffling inside before the figure of Lucas appeared, tall and thick and seeming like safety incarnate in the presence of someone as terrifying as the man who still had one hand next to your head.

“Yang?” he asked. “Is everything alright?”

The man, Yang, shifted so that Lucas could see your face. “This one just came knocking on our door and said he wanted to see you. Do you know him?”

Lucas gasped slightly and sped up, blurring a little, so that he reached you in less than a second. “Oh my gosh, Y/N, are you okay? Yangyang, this is the human that’s been staying with Jaemin for the past week, he’s my friend!”

“Hey Lucas,” you said weakly, finally reaching up to massage your throat now that you had someone to protect you from being thrown out the living room window. “I’m okay, I think. Just a little lightheaded.” Part of you wanted to add, Is his name Yang or Yangyang? but you figured now wasn’t the time to ask.

A strange look crossed Lucas’ face. “Well, I’m glad you’re alright, come inside and sit down, I’ll get you some water.” You followed him into the apartment, Yang (Yangyang?) behind you. He still slightly scared you and you stayed as close to Lucas as possible. Lucas spoke again as he grabbed a water bottle for you. You noted idly that it was Dasani. “But, uh, didn’t Jaemin tell you to, like, not come out here? So you didn’t get murdered? Cause that could’ve ended a lot worse.”

“Not you too!” you cried, exaggerating the syllables. “I know I could’ve died, but I wanted to see my friend! How hard is that to understand? Did it bother you so much that I wanted to see you?”

Lucas figited uncomfortably. “Well I appreciate that you came to see me, that’s really nice of you. It’s just that Jaemin was right. This really isn’t a safe place for you to be. I mean Yangyang could’ve killed you if he didn’t have such a heart of gold.” You threw a disbelieving glance towards the man in question and he shrugged, mouth tugging up in a mischievous grin.

“Okay, I mean, I can go back if you don’t want me here, I have to be back before Jaemin realizes I’m gone anyway,” you said, drinking more of your water. Yangyang and Lucas both froze.

“You didn’t get his permission?” Lucas asked in a tone that confused you. Was he scared of Jaemin? “Or tell him you were going for a walk? Or anything?”

“No, of course not. He would’ve said no!” you protested unhappily. This was not how you imagined this trip going.

“Okay,” Lucas said. “I’m taking you back right now. Jaemin will- well, he won’t kill me, but he’ll be scarily close if he finds out you came here.”

With a heavy sigh, you stood up. You knew that if he needed to, he could just throw you over his shoulder and carry you all the way back to Jaemin’s cottage. Darned vampire strength. “Fine.”

You got down the hallway and into the stairwell before Lucas tensed up again. “Shoot,” he muttered, looking down the stairs below. You couldn’t hear or see anything, and you were about to tell him so when he sighed and you heard a pitter patter like rain, growing louder by the second.

Moments later Jamin appeared in front of you, pink hair mussed and eyes wild with a mix of fear and anger. For a moment he didn’t even speak, just glared at you. The fear faded from his eyes. When he did speak, the words seemed like poison being spit off the tongue of a snake.

“I can’t believe you,” he seethed. “I kept you in my house, fed you, nursed you back to health. I let you use all of my things and was even going to send you home once you were perfectly healthy again. I gave you one rule. One! Just to keep you safe! And you go and break it. You could have died, Y/N, do you understand that? I did everything in my power to keep you in an environment where you weren’t in danger! I didn’t allow Hyuck to come over, I made sure that you were prepared to meet Lucas and Jeno and even Jisung! But all of my efforts faded to nothing when you opened that doorway to the city. I’m taking you home right now, I can’t bear to keep you here any longer, not when you obviously have no sense of self preservation!”

He picked you up before you could even blink and you felt a sharp wind on your face as he ran home. His steps sounded like raindrops falling on pavement, sharp but small, a pinprick of sound in an otherwise silent stairwell. Lucas had disappeared from view in less than a second and you shut your eyes against the vertigo of being carried at such a speed. Everything blurred, everything was indistinct and most things weren’t even worthy of notice. Jaemin smelled like ink, and you had space in the very back of your mind to wonder if he had spilled his, in his haste to find you. It didn’t seem like a very vampire-like thing to do.

A few moments later you entered the canopy of the forest and every once in a while you heard a stick break under his foot or a rock get catapulted out of the way. Then you felt the sun on your back again and you gasped as Jaemin dumped you onto the warm grass, standing tall before you. He said something in a language you didn’t know - it sounded vaguely like Latin - and the grass fell out from under you as the ground opened up and you fell into space.

☽༓☾

When you woke up the next morning to your alarm, you wondered briefly if your entire experience with Jaemin and the other vampires was a dream. The puncture wounds that had been on your neck were utterly nonexistent, and there was no evidence on you that you had even left the comfort of your bed. On the other hand, you had clear memories of your time in Vahmpyr, short as it was. You remembered how it smelled and how the trees had felt as you walked outside. You remembered the feeling of the cool granite of the bathroom countertop. Mostly you remembered being with Lucas, Jeno, Jisung, and Chenle. You remembered almost dying at the hands of Lucas’ roommate and you remembered the terrifying flight in Jaemin’s arms.

Jaemin.

You grimaced at yourself in the mirror and spit out your toothpaste. There was no way your mind could have made up someone as excruciatingly kind and beautiful as Jaemin was. At the same time you felt anger bubble up inside of you. He hadn’t even given you a chance to say goodbye - he had just put you through to your Earthly self without any words between the two of you. You hadn’t said goodbye to Lucas or Jeno either, nor had you seen the rest of your new acquaintances. The anger flared, hot against your insides, and you could swear you actually felt your chest twinge. You spat out the last of your toothpaste and replaced your toothbrush in its holder, going to get ready for your day.

The next few days were spent alternately missing the simplicity of life on Vahmpyr and being angry at Jaemin. Assignments piled onto your shoulders and in addition to that, you discovered some sort of disconnect between you and the part of you that had stayed on Earth while you were out. That part of you seemed to dismiss your time in Vahmpyr as something it had dreamed up all on its own. It didn’t acknowledge you and liked to take control of your body whenever you weren’t paying full attention to it. Every time it did that you felt the twinge in your chest again, except it got more and more painful. You started having headaches that the other part of you didn’t seem to feel but which pressed against your skull like tiny war hammers thudding into the bone by your temples and occasionally your eyes.

Your vision would go blurry and you started having lapses of consciousness, only to wake up and find yourself doing just fine with your other part in charge. During these lapses you would dream of being in Vahmpyr again, and you saw Lucas smiling with Yangyang, Chenle rolling his eyes at Jisung before hugging him tightly. Other men you didn’t know and other women you hadn’t met also flew across the screen of your eyes but they disappeared quickly. Ten even passed by once, haughtily scrolling past everyone until he sidled up to a tall man with long blond hair who smiled down at him and pressed a gentle kiss to one of Ten’s tentacles. A man with red hair and an eyebrow slit served coffee to a man who chewed like a rabbit. A group of three guys held up a sign that said “Go Taemin!” as a group played football. A woman in a suit jacket over jean shorts sat with a box of papers, crying. Joy played a game with other girls where they tried to push lockers over on each other. Everything (with the exception of the lockers) looked like fun. It was better than Earth, at any rate. Every night you went to bed wondering if you might just die by morning and leave the other half of yourself behind to control the body. You were just along for the ride at this point.

The evening of your fourth day back on Earth you went to sit outside the dorm building on a bench, just for some fresh air. For once you had control of the body and you let your head tip back, closing your eyes and just feeling. The bench pressed up against your back in a way that hurt slightly, but your body had been wracked with pain for two days straight and it didn’t ache so much as behind your eyes or inside your skull. The evening breeze blew across your eyelids and brought with it the scent of sun-warmed dirt.

It smelled like Jaemin, that first morning you woke up in his house. When he had helped you across the cottage towards the bathroom and been outlined by the sun, when he had made you soup and sat with you on the couch while he explained where you were and what he was.

Your body shook with a particularly painful pound on the inside of your ribs. You let yourself relax against the bench again and the sensations enveloped you once more. You felt yourself let go of your body on Earth and float away, less falling and more weightlessness, floating away on a wind that smelled of sun on dirt and felt like arms wrapping around you while rain fell on summer-warmed pavement. You floated away on this wind and it lifted you endlessly until you nodded off, finally free of the pains that had kept you company for the past few days. You wondered if perhaps you had died of it, if being back on Earth had perhaps been more detrimental to you than beneficial.

Then your back hit something hard and the breath was knocked from your lungs, waking you up again and telling you that something had gone very very wrong or very very well. You gasped air back into your body and rolled over weakly, now in a body you recognized as the one you inhabited on Vahmpyr. Grass poked your inner arms and you pushed yourself up to sitting with your legs crossed. You massaged your chest as you inhaled and found yourself miraculously free of pain, aside from the slight burn of breath inhaled too quickly after loss of oxygen. The war hammers in your head had vacated the premises and the aches of your ribs had subsided, making it easier to breath and just sit without drawing in pained gasps.

You registered a return of cold as a shadow fell over you and looked up to see none other than Chenle, with Jisung behind him. Did they never go anywhere without each other? Well, besides hunting.

“Y/N?” He gaped down at you, and you looked back up at him.

“The one and only,” you said, before you realized that didn’t apply to you anymore. “Well, one of only two in existence.”

He laughed that weird dolphin laugh he had again and reached out a hand to help you up. You took it, standing unsteadily on two feet that didn’t ache the moment you put weight on them. “What’re you doing back here? Jaemin-hyung said he sent you back to Earth.”

You feel the corners of your mouth tug down almost instinctively at the mention of Jaemin. “He did. I don’t think Earth agreed with me,” you told him. Jisung walked forward and looked you up and down.

“Maybe we should take you back to Jaeminnie hyung, he’ll know what to do.”

You groaned. “I really don’t want to deal with him at the moment.”

“We can take him to Kun-ge,” Chenle interjected smoothly. “He’ll know better than Jaemin-hyung anyway, he’s been a doctor and a vampire longer.” A side of Chenle appeared that you hadn’t seen yet, a side that took charge in a way that wasn’t just insulting anyone near him. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. He took your hand with one of his and grabbed Jisung’s arm with the other.

“Come on, let’s go see Kun-ge!”

☽༓☾

Kun, as it happened, lived in the same building as Lucas. Actually he lived one apartment over, behind the door labeled ‘313.’ When he opened the door he seemed strangely unsurprised to see you there, just breathed out a sigh and let you in. He had nice light brown hair that worked well with his skin tone and eyes that smiled even when he wasn’t. He had this aura of parenting around him, like he took care of everyone he knew. It was comfortable to be around him from the start. Once Chenle had explained where he found you, Kun sat you down and asked exactly what had happened.

“Listen,” he said seriously. “I’ve never seen a human react the way you did. Nobody has ever come back, from what I know. We have to figure out exactly what happened, why you came back, and how to get you back to Earth.”

You inhaled deeply, relishing in the painless breath. “Okay, uh, I’m not really sure where to start,” you told him.

“Tell me about how you got sent home.”

“Okay. So, I left Jaemin’s cottage to come and see Lucas and I guess Jaemin is a lot scarier when he gets mad, because he was not happy when he found out I had left. He did this, like, superfast running thing, very Twilight, and carried me to this random clearing, I guess, I didn’t look around much.” You paused to let Kun write that down on his very professional looking clipboard, but he waved you on. Right, he was a vampire. He could write stuff fast.

“So he sort of dumped me on the ground and said something in a language I didn’t know, it sounded like Latin but I’m not sure. Then the ground sort of opened up and I fell and fell and fell until I rejoined my, uh, Earthly body.” You paused to take a breath and think about how to convey what happened when you got back to Earth.

“When I got back there was this weird disconnect with my body. Like, uh, there was me, in my body, and there was also this other part of me, the part of me that stayed behind when I came here the first time. That other part sort of took the main control of the body we lived in, and it felt like I was along for the ride. It liked to pretend that I wasn’t there, that my time here in Vahmpyr wasn’t real. It was weird. Then a little into my stay, I started getting these super bad pains all over my body.”

Kun interrupted you by holding up a finger. “How long were you home before the pains started?”

You thought back, struggling to pinpoint when they had started. “I think maybe a little longer than twenty four hours? When I got back I woke up in that body, and about one sleep later I started getting the pains, which would be like twenty five hours. Twenty four and a half, maybe. At first it was just these weird twinges in my chest, like my ribs were popping every time I took a breath, then it progressed. I got these horrible headaches, and my chest hurt all the time, and walking felt like attacking my feet, and my neck was always super achy. The thing is, my other half didn’t feel any of that. It was just my half of our consciousness. Then about on my fourth day back I went outside and sat on the bench outside my dorm. I laid back and, uh, it felt like I died or something. I just felt my consciousness leave the body and I guess the other half is still there living down there and now I’m here.”

Kun, Chenle, and Jisung all sat on the couch together, Kun looking over his notes while the other two guys just sat in silence. After a minute Kun spoke. “I don’t really know what happened to you, but I’m almost certain that your connection to your human self is gone. Or at least, your Earthly self. I don’t think we can send you back anymore, I’m sorry.” He looked at you, eyes full of remorse. You expected to mirror that feeling, but you discovered that it didn’t bother you so much. The other half of yourself would keep all of your friends and family from having to mourn you, and you could stay here, painless.

“I’m actually kind of glad about that,” you told them, and Chenle’s head snapped from picking at his jeans to look at you.

“Glad?” he demanded, incredulous. “To stay here?”

“Well yeah, I mean I was in pain most of the time I was back on Earth so it’s not like I’m eager to go back there. Plus, since I didn’t actually die nobody has to mourn me. And part of the time I was like… seeing Vahmpyr. Like is Ten dating this super tall guy with blonde hair? And Joy was pushing lockers over on her friends? And you two!” You turned an accusatory finger at Jisung and Chenle. “You two are adorable together!”

Jisung sighed. “Not you too…”

Kun shushed him. “You could see what was going on here in Vahmpyr?”

“Well, sort of,” you told him. “I saw that Lucas and Yangyang were having, like, a picnic?”

Kun’s eyebrows furrowed and he muttered, “I knew they had one without me.”

“I also saw this guy with red hair giving coffee to a man who sort of chewed like a bunny. And there was this group of three guys holding up a sign that said “Go Taemin!” I think, and I guess Taemin must have been playing football with the others I could see, although I couldn’t recognize any of the people playing. Oh, and there was this lady with really pretty hair who had a box of papers and she was just, like, sitting there and crying. She had the part of her hair near her neck bleached and the outer layers were still black, and she was wearing a suit jacket with jean shorts, which is kind of a weird combination.”

Kun looked over his notes. “That’s really interesting. All of those things have happened since you left, definitely. Joy and her friends like to play games where they try to kill each other, because they’re all immortal. The red haired man was probably Taeyong, and the bunny man would be Doyoung. Ten is dating Johnny, and yes, he is pretty tall and has blonde hair. I haven’t seen Taemin-hyung in a while so I don’t know if he’s playing football again or not. I don’t know about the woman with the cool hair either.”

“Definitely Taeyeon-noona,” Jisung interjected. “She broke up with her boyfriend a few days ago, and she does have hair dyed like that right now.”

Kun raised his eyebrows in curiosity. “Huh, I hope she’s doing okay. Actually I think maybe we should worry more about whoever she broke up with, she’s not exactly good with breakups.”

As though it’s a secret, Jisung’s next words came out in a whisper, and he leaned closer to Chenle and Kun. You had to strain a little to hear. “I heard it was a human. He, like, got super insecure about the fact that she wasn’t aging with him and broke up with her. It’s killing her. She really liked that guy.”

“Why did she get with him in the first place?” Chenle sounded absolutely confused. “She knew it would end like this. That’s how the last two ended.”

“I don’t know, but now I’m really worried for the guy,” said Kun. “We might have to cover up for her.” The implications of his words sank in and you made a small sound. All three men snapped their heads up and it looked as though they forgot you were there.

“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry Y/N! Do you have anywhere to stay where you’ll be safe for at least a few days? Jaemin’s cottage should be pretty easy to stay hidden in.”

“He doesn’t want to go and see him after what happened,” Chenle supplied helpfully. “I’m taking him back to my place once we’re done here.” Kun appeared to consider that, and then nodded his approval.

“That sounds alright. Tomorrow we can go out and get him some things to make his stay more comfortable. Maybe we can find one of the Outer Plots to put him on.”

“Outer Plots?” you asked, because the way he said it demanded capitalization in your head.

“They’re sort of exactly what they sound like,” Kun explained. “There are these pieces of land around the edges of the towns that nobody really lives on but they’re solid places to live, if we can get a good one. It’s a little bit like Jaemin’s land out there, lot’s of forest, so we can set up tree tunnels for you to get here fast, if you need to.”

You nodded. “That does sound pretty good. I don’t know what I’m going to do though, it’s not like I have all that many hobbies. I was midway through getting my bachelor’s when I left.”

“That’s fine,” Chenle said. “I have plenty of things to keep you entertained, and we can get some of the other guys to keep you company if we’re busy. There are a lot of us with a lot of open time. I also have a ton of extra textbooks from learning languages, so if you want you can spend your life becoming fluent in Japanese, Latin, French, German, Scottish Gaelic, Hawaiian, or one of the others I have. Or multiple, if you learn fast.”

“Thanks Chenle.” He wasn’t actually so bad, you thought. He had brought you to Kun and he was offering to let you use his house and his things. “I might just take you up on that.”

“You guys should probably leave now, actually,” Kun said. “At human speeds you’ll get home right on time.”

Chenle checked his watch and nodded. “He’s right. We should get going.”

You thanked Kun again and Chenle led you out the door, Jisung following behind you. You separated ways with him once you left the apartment building, his figure disappearing swiftly into the trees. Once you blinked there was no finding him again.

You walked behind Chenle quietly, choosing to observe your surroundings. You didn’t see much in the way of low quality or old houses here. It seemed as though a lower class had been eradicated entirely and the vampires could choose where they wanted to live. When you asked him how that was possible, Chenle laughed that peculiar screech of his and said, “when you’re reborn into a family of beings that has been around for millenia, you accumulate some shared wealth. Especially when some of the coven members have doctorate degrees and work on Earth full time, and some of us had familial connections as well, like money left in wills and such.”

You nodded. “So you guys are basically like the elite class of the universe.”

“Pretty much. My house is probably the biggest you’ll ever be in, because I like to splurge a little bit. Unfortunately you might get lost, though, and if you do, just call for me. I’ll make sure to be listening all night in case you need me.”

“It’s that big?” you asked in disbelief. “Do you live in Buckingham Palace?”

He grinned, showing off his incisors. “Bigger.”

“And you live alone?”

“Well, I haven’t always. Jisung and I will probably have sleepovers for all of eternity, and whenever a new coven starts they stay with me for a few days while they get their own living quarters set up, but for the most part , yes. I don’t actually spend a ton of time in the house, it’s more just for the sensation of owning a building that large.”

You shook your head. “As a broke college student, I find that completely unfair. I was working two jobs just to keep my head above water and you’re on this alternate plane just chilling in your house that’s bigger than Buckingham Palace.”

He smiled again. “Nobody said life was fair, Y/N. Nobody.”

☽༓☾

Three days and a shocking amount of Gaelic verbs later (you only got lost in Chenle’s palace four times), a house was ready for you to move in. Johnny and Ten had furnished it for you, and Chenle had explained that the two of them were the stylists of the coven, for the most part. The mysterious Yuta had also taken part in finding high quality fabrics to fit their vision. You had thanked the whole group of vampires who helped with the house profusely for not only building said house, but also for getting you a bunch of comfortable furniture. They had smiled and said it was their pleasure and all of the typical things, but what really stood out was Ten’s reaction. He had barely paid attention to you - he barely paid attention to anyone besides Johnny and Yangyang, who he called their baby - this whole time. When you had thanked him, however, he wrapped all but four of his tentacles around you in a surprisingly dry hug.

“It’s refreshing to have you around,” he had told you. “I’m glad we could help you get settled.”

Later as you reflected on it, you figured that it probably got pretty boring to know what was going to happen all of the time, and maybe you had disrupted the usual happenings of his visions and the vampires in Vahmpyr. Maybe you made other people happy too, to have a new person around.

One person who didn’t seem thrilled to have you back was Jaemin. Every time you made eye contact with him (twice, over the three days), he grimaced and turned away like the sight of you hurt him. Maybe he was mad that you were back within scenting range. He wouldn’t get near you, so it wasn’t like you could ask.

While settling into your new normal, you discovered that Chenle was actually a good friend. His love language was insults and pointed jabs, but he actually did care for his friends quite a lot. He had watched Jaemin from across your front yard as they were laying down grass seed and sighed.

“I wish he would just talk to you,” he told you sadly. “I’ve never, in all our years together, seen him like this. I’m not sure anyone has, even Taeil-hyung.” He didn’t elaborate on who Taeil was, and you didn’t press him. Was Jaemin really so mad that he couldn’t even look at you?

“Well,” you had said, “I don’t want to talk to him. He dumped me through an interplanar tunnel without warning me and yelled at me like the world was ending when I took a walk. I don’t think there’s much to be talked about. He must hate me.” Over Chenle’s shoulder, you had seen Jaemin flinch slightly. How strange. Part of you hoped that he felt the same pain that you did, a sort of ache that told you that you were unwanted. Another part of you murmured quietly in the back of your mind that you were being petty. You had chosen to ignore it for the time being. You were being petty, but so was he. He had thousands of years on you, so he should be the mature one, right?

“I don’t think he hates you. I think you both need to grow up and talk like adults,” Chenle had said flatly, orange hair seeming to flash in the sun. Jaemin sort of curled in on himself.

“Tell that to Mister Millenia before you lecture me on growing up,” you had replied. Then you reopened your Gaelic textbook and pretended to bury yourself in it, blatantly ignoring Chenle’s judgemental gaze.

“Fine,” he had muttered angrily. “You can both suffer for all I care.” Then he had stalked off and started pounding fence posts into the dirt so hard that Jeno had to tell him to take a break before he broke them.

You found yourself thinking about that moment as you walked through the trees, ironically on your way to see Jaemin. Since you had close to nothing to do , you had offered yourself up as an errand person to anyone that would hire and found yourself working for Kun running scrolls across Vahmpyr while he translated and examined them. It kept you busy and in shape, and Kun seemed happy with your service. This morning he had sent you to get the Scottish scroll back from Jaemin, along with a few other documents to pick up and drop off. You had saved this one for last, procrastinating on having to see him again. As his cottage came into full view, you sighed, preparing yourself for a cold shoulder and a very quick visit.

“Jaemin?” you called, knocking on the front door. It was closed for once, usually he kept it open for better air circulation. A moment later the door opened and there he stood, in all his cotton candy colored glory.

“Y/N? What’re you doing here?”

“Kun sent me, he wants that Scottish scroll back. He said he hopes you’re done translating it since you’re had it for a few weeks now,” you replied, willing your voice to stay professional. You were here for the scroll. When Jaemin didn’t reply, you looked up at him. “So? Where is it?”

“I don’t know why he sent you out like this, but I sent that scroll back three days ago, on our agreed upon date. I know he got it, because he sent me back a thank you with those little stickers he likes to use.”

“Oh. Um, I’ll just go then,” you muttered, turning around as you spoke. “Sorry I bothered you.”

Suddenly a hand was wrapped around your own, keeping you in place. Your breath caught in your throat, remembering the last time that had happened with a vampire. All that came out of Jaemin’s mouth, however, was, “Can I talk to you? Please?”

“Jaemin, please let me go,” you said, trying to keep your tone even. His hand released you immediately and you stepped a pace away from him and turned around so that you could see his face. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Well, uh, do you want some tea? I have some inside…” It was clear he hadn’t expected you to actually agree and he needed to collect his thoughts, so you nodded and he led you inside, sitting you on the familiar couch while he busied himself in the kitchen.

“I actually wanted to apologize,” Jaemin said after a minute. “I worried so much about protecting you that I forgot to let you enjoy your time here. It scared me how good you were at adjusting to this world, how much you liked being with Lucas and my other friends… I’m not used to humans reacting positively.” The kettle whistled and he took a moment to pour water into the mugs, steam rising gently from them in silvery whisps.

Once he poured the water, he continued speaking. “I wanted to make sure you knew that it wasn’t all fun and games here. I didn't want you to go looking for a place in our community because I was worried that you’d get killed. Vampires are pretty possessive of their property on Vahmpyr, for the most part, and you went right into one of the biggest apartment complexes within a day’s travelling distance - and that’s vampire distance, not human distance. Lucas told me about what happened with Yangyang, and I almost tore Yang’s arm off, I was so mad. He could have actually murdered you, and I couldn’t stomach the thought. What if Lucas hadn’t been home? What if Yangyang hadn’t given you that one moment to explain yourself? What if you had met another one of us on the stairs, without any protection? It terrified me to consider.” He walked over, a mug carried in each hand, and sat on the couch, leaving a large space in between you. It was strangely reminiscent of that first day, when he had explained Vahmpyr to you over soup.

“Of course,” Jaemin started, and you refocused. “That was only after I had sent you home, that he told me about that. When I dumped you in that tunnel, it was just fear of you being unsafe that made me so mad. The fact that you would willingly put yourself in danger, when I valued you so highly? Inconceivable. And yet, it happened. So I made another big mistake: I sent you home. I thought you would be better off there, regardless of what was happening. I knew you were healthy enough to walk to the city, so I thought you were fine. Apparently not. I heard from Chenle and Kun what happened to you back on Earth and it broke another part of me apart. I hurt you, in sending you back, not just in temporary emotional pain, but in physical pain that persisted through your entire stay. We still don’t know why you reacted the way you did, but it scared me to hear of it. I had made yet another mistake that could have killed you.” He paused to take a sip of his tea, and you did too. It was pleasant, not too hot and not too cold, just warming up your insides.

“Then the last straw came when you said I must hate you…” Jaemin’s voice broke slightly. “If anything, it’s the exact opposite, I realized I missed you more than I should, given you should be just a patient. I wanted to hug you the second I saw you, but you looked so mad to see me that I couldn’t do it. I was literally building a house for you and still couldn’t look you in the eyes for more than a moment. So I went home in shame, knowing that you were right, with thousands of years under my belt, I should be the more mature one. I decided that the next time I saw you, I would talk to you, no matter the circumstances. I couldn’t have you keep living thinking that I hated you. I didn’t actually expect you to come in when I asked. I thought I’d have to follow you through the woods, honestly.”

He fell silent, took another sip of his tea, and for the first time, you spoke. “I really didn’t want to talk to you. I wanted you to realize how much I hurt from your actions, but I think maybe I took that a little too far. I knew you were protecting me, but I really wanted to see somebody, and I knew you wouldn’t let me out, so I ran away. I didn’t really know what I was getting into. I probably should have asked you to accompany me, at least. Not my finest moment.”

Jaemin laughed weakly, taking another sip of tea. “Not mine either. I should have trusted you more.”

“And I shouldn’t have run off without even asking for your help..”

He smiled at you, that gorgeous little smile that made your heart smile back.

“Friends?” you asked.

He hesitated for only a moment, a strange sort of disappointment flashing across his face, before he was extending his hand to meet yours. “Friends.”

You grinned at him, finishing your tea. “Great. Now I need to go yell at Kun for sending me out to see you when I didn’t need to.”

“Isn’t it good that he did?” Jaemin asked with a confused frown on his face.

“Well yes, but it was a very Cupid-like thing to do, wasn’t it? I don’t tolerate my friends trying to play Cupid with myself and my other friends.” You stood up and walked your empty tea cup to the kitchen. “Do you want to come?”

He laughed. “No, you can just tell me all about it tomorrow, okay?”

You nodded. “Alright.”

You walked out into the cool twilight and started going towards Kun’s house. He had a big storm coming.

☽༓☾

A few days later, you were sitting in Jaemin’s cottage again, Gaelic textbook open on your lap. Since he was close to fluent in the language, he was helping you learn it. It wasn’t an extraordinarily difficult language, but some of the words were hard to pronounce and he had been eager to help you.

“Look here,” he said, pointing at some words on the page. “Say this for me.”

“Tha gaol agam ort,” you replied. He grinned.

“That’s how it’s written, but not how it’s said. Okay, now listen to me pronounce it. ‘Ha geul akeum orsht’. Repeat that for me.”

“‘Ha geul akeum orsht’? That’s how you say that?” you demanded. “This is like French! They don’t spell things anywhere close to how they’re said!”

“Unfortunately, most languages don’t. The same goes for Korean verb conjugations and English words and, yes, French everything, but it’s just learning new rules. After a while you understand it. I promise that you’ll get it eventually. You have the rest of your life.”

You looked over at him suddenly, questions rising to the forefront over Gaelic words. “Am I really going to stay here forever? Am I never going to see Earth again, just sit here as a useless human surrounded by powerful and immortal vampires, until I die?”

He seemed surprised by the questions. “I’m not sure any of us had really thought about it,” he said carefully.

“You all had just accepted the fact that I was stuck on your plane of existence with nothing worth doing to do? When am I going to use Scottish Gaelic, Jaemin? When will this actually come in handy, except to distract me? I’m here to do nothing, and the moment I go back to Earth, I start suffering. What am I meant to do here, Jaem?”

Jaemin gently lifted the textbook from your lap and put in on his coffee table, then pulled you into his side for a hug. You snuggled into him, inhaling the scent of sunshine and warm earth. Comfort.

“I don’t know exactly how to make you feel better,” Jaemin murmured from somewhere above your head. “But we all like having you around, you know that. It’s nice to have someone young around. We haven’t turned a human in about thirty years, so the novelty has worn off, and here we have this beautiful creature who is new in so many ways. You’re refreshing, and you’re human, so you’ll continue to be refreshing.”

“Well, thank you,” you said, muffled in his side. “But still, I don’t feel like I have anything worth doing here. You can all do anything I can do, just ten times faster. I have no unique skills or brains or anything. So what am I meant to do? I can’t even go spy on the other humans or anything because I can’t go back to Earth!”

Jaemin shifted you a little bit in his arms and started rubbing your shoulder softly. “Is there anything you particularly enjoy doing? Maybe you could do art, or gardening? Or I have this book of old forms of witchcraft?”

You turned to face him. “You have a book of witchcraft sitting around?”

He released you and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I found a papyrus scroll in this ruined Egyptian city, and I kept it just ‘cause it was cool. Then I learned hieroglyphics so that I could translate it and made a copy. Unfortunately, witchcraft is… not my strong suit, and I’m somewhat afraid of giving it away in case I never see it again. I spent a lot of time and energy on that translation.”

“And you want me to use it?” you asked, confused. Why on earth would he give it to you if he didn’t trust the perfectly composed vampires around him? “I mean it sounds super cool, but aren’t you worried about it being in my hands? I am a human, after all.”

“Well-”

Jaemin was cut off at that moment by a sharp knock on the door. At least, you assumed it was a knock, it sounded a little bit more like a wet thwap than a knock. Jaemin blurred slightly as he ran over to the door and opened it, revealing cloudy skies dropping rain onto a harried-looking Ten.

“Ten-hyung?” he asked, sounding as confused as you felt. “I’d say this is a nice surprise, but why are you here? I thought today was your Earth day? Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” Ten said, gasping slightly as he spoke. “I ran straight here from the Pacific.” You took a second to think about the fact that Ten was swimming in the Pacific Ocean before refocusing on him. “-future just completely shifted, a few minutes ago. Y/N-” He turned to face you completely. “Whatever you two just did, it caused you to become a vampire in the future.”

“But we were just talking?” you told him, confused. “It wasn’t like Jaem was about to bite me.” You turned to Jaemin. “Right?”

He looked at you solemnly. “If you were going to have been bitten by me, it would have already happened. Ten-hyung, are you sure that he’s a vampire in your future? Can you see more details?”

Ten closed his eyes briefly like he was trying to focus, and in the meantime a tentacle wrung the salt and rain water out of his hair. Jaemin wrinkled his nose at the growing puddle. Ten spoke, eyes fluttering open slowly. “In the parts I can see, he’s covered in this, like, tree? It’s a little bit fuzzy. It’s green, and looks like it has brown splotches like branches. Maybe a tree falls on him or something. Anyway, you take one look at him and bite ‘im. He goes limp... After that? Fuzzy scenes of him waking up and you taking him running. Like, really running. Vampire running.”

Jaemin took a shaky breath. “Okay, I don’t know why our conversation would have caused a tree to fall on him in the future. We were talking about, like, Earth and art and stuff. Oh, and my witchcraft book.”

Ten’s eyes refocused on him, narrowing slightly. “You’re going to give him your witchcraft book after not letting me touch it? That’s a little underhanded.” His eyes narrow briefly before looking at you. “But maybe that’s it. You’ll just have to make sure that he doesn’t practice any witchcraft under the cover of trees. Otherwise I think you’ll be fine. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Thanks Ten,” you murmured. “For warning us and stuff.”

“Of course. Now I need to go back to the Pacific. Ta ta!” Ten waved to you and walked out the door.

“Well,” Jaemin said, “that’s some news, huh?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled. “Do you think that it’s okay for me to practice witchcraft with this in my future?”

“I do. I think you’ll be fine. We’ll keep you as safe as we possibly can, and if you become a vampire… at least it won’t be because I gave in. I’ll still be strong.”

“Jaem, I don’t think that was ever in question.”

“It was for me.” His voice went dark momentarily, then he brightened up again. “At any rate, I think we can safely teach you some things that’ll keep life interesting.”

You grinned. “Then let’s get started.”

☽༓☾

You were surprised at how easily witchcraft came to you, in the beginning. Jaemin insisted that you had some sort of gift with it, and as much as you told him that was silly, it seemed possible. You could easily understand instructions on Jaemin’s careful translations that even he couldn’t decipher. You gave up on Gaelic after a while, focused more on learning the original Egyptian Hieroglyphs of the spells and potions. You trusted Jaemin’s precise translation, but there was something unique about seeing an instruction in a new language and being able to understand it.

Days turned to weeks as you experimented with the materials growing in and around Vahmpyr. Taeil, who you eventually met, turned out to be a valuable resource. He was an avid collector of ancient written works, including but not limited to an original Greek copy of The Odyssey, Chinese bamboo books saved from the book burnings of Emperor Qin Shi Huang, and an exact replica of the Rosetta Stone. Taeil must have been ancient himself to have all of these valuables, but he still had the energy of the far younger members of their coven, which amazed you. He showed you different specialties of different cultures within witchcraft, ideas born from scrolls and tablets, bamboo strips and wax blocks. It was far more information than you could ever decipher or use during your short human life, but every day you got better, starting out small with poultices that you had to injure yourself to try and ward spells that exhausted you but could make your home more secure than any in Vahmpyr (or on Earth).

At one point Chenle gifted you a book covered in old stains and strangely familiar drawings that you started to use before abruptly realizing that it was an old chemistry textbook. You invited him over that afternoon and whacked him over the head with the thick pages. He told you with a disgruntled look that he put a lot of effort into that, thank you very much. And besides, chemistry was a magic in itself. (His words, not yours.) After that you made sure to thoroughly inspect any gifts you received from the more mischievous family members.

Lucas came over and helped you set up more complicated equipment that you couldn’t lift, like a big cauldron, which you actually did use on the regular after you learned how to use it, and after some consideration you set up a chemistry station for the odd experiment. At this point your house was more magical items than actual living space, something that Kun was quick to point out when he came over.

“You know, you should really be more careful about having all of these powders and dusts and-” He cut himself off with a distasteful wrinkle of his nose. “Things.” He pursed his lips, looking at you. “We don’t really know what these things will do to you in the long run. You have to be careful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you responded distractedly, making his coffee and a drink for yourself. “Maybe I’ll clean it all up sometime, but you know I’m awfully busy these days.” You used a spoon to stir in the milk and sugar, tapping the metal against the china in a soft clink.

He sighed tiredly. “Your health is less important than staying busy?”

You gave him a look that you hoped conveyed your need to stay busy, to continuously learn and improve. “Keeping my schedule full keeps me healthy, Kun. At least mentally.”

Kun didn’t look impressed by your reasoning. “I think your mental health will go down pretty quickly if you get sick and can’t do anything because you’re stuck in bed twenty-four-seven.”

You gave a sigh of your own at that. “And as always,” you announced to the room at large, “Doctor Kun gives amazing advice that I shouldn’t ignore but probably will.”

Y/n,” he said in a warning tone. “Seriously. You need to be careful! No human has ever lived here for so long, and I worry about you catching some mysterious illness that nobody has ever heard of!”

“Kun, I will do my best to keep myself healthy. I’ve put every kind of ward that I can around my house to protect me, I have magically circulated and cleaned air, I have literal superhumans to protect me from anything else, and I’m happy here! I finally have something to contribute. Maybe someday I’ll find some concoction or enchantment that will let me visit Earth, even. I just don’t know. But I’m going to keep trying.”

He took his coffee out of your grasp and walked back into the living room, which housed your indoor plants, magical and earthly. “That’s all I can ask,” he said, voice betraying his disappointment in that fact. “I’ll still give you monthly checkups for a while though, just to make sure.

“Can’t Jaemin take care of me?” you asked, thinking of Jaemin with his warm smile and caring words and the smell of sun on dirt and- well. Jaemin felt like safety in a person. Kun was wonderful, but Jaemin was just that little bit better, that little bit more comfortable to be around.

“He could,” Kun replied after taking a sip of coffee. “But I know he’s been busy lately though, he’s been on Earth for a few days checking on all of his businesses and stocks and his human personas. On the other hand, I hardly go back to Earth for more than a twelve hour shift here and there.”

“I understand.”

“Plus, I’m about two thousand years older than Jaemin, I have a lot of experience.”

“How old are you?” Two thousand years older than Jaemin would make Kun… pretty darn old.

Kun grinned. “I was around before and after Jesus came to Earth. I was around before the Terracotta Army was built. I was born in China circa when the Hanging Gardens of Babylon are said to have been built. Taeil-hyung turned me into a vampire when I was twenty five, and I’ve been twenty five ever since. None of us know when he was born. When you’re as old as he is, even with a vampire’s memory, history starts to blend together. He says he remembers the Pyramids at Giza going up, though, and that was after he had been a vampire for what he thinks was a few hundred years. He’s literally prehistoric.”

“Wow,” was all you could think to say. No wonder Taeil had so many artifacts. He was one. Kun was too, for that matter. And Jaemin… Jaemin would have been born AD, but how far into it? You asked Kun this question and he chuckled.

“Jaemin was born in fourteen forty two. He was twenty when Jeno turned him, and he’s still twenty, five hundred years later.”

“Who turned Taeil, then? I can hardly imagine a vampire older than him, even.”

“We’re not sure. Whoever it was is so unimaginably old now that even I can’t comprehend it. But whoever the original vampire was must have turned a whole lot of people. There are dozens more vampires just within our small community, and an entire plane full of them. From what I can tell, Taeil isn’t even the oldest. There’s this man who lives in the mountains by himself, and from what I hear, he hasn’t been seen by another vampire in nearly three thousand years. He’s almost a myth around here anymore. Taeil knew him back when Vahmpyr was sparsely populated, and he told us that the man - his name is Jinyoung Park - is older than him by so many years that he is to Taeil as Taeil is to me. He probably lived before Mesopotamia existed, even, or was right at the beginning of it. Before him, we have no idea who the first vampire was. If that vampire is still alive, he she or they hasn't been seen since, well, before living memory. If they still exist that would mean that vampires have been around since before modern humanity. I really wish we knew.”

“I wish you knew too,” you breathed. You had never really considered that immortality meant that the same vampires who existed before the Pyramids at Giza still lived among humanity today. It was mind boggling. The history in just their brains alone could fill thousands of textbooks and solve history’s greatest mysteries. But they couldn’t show themselves to the humans without risk. Even the people that they bit and sent back to Earth wouldn’t dare talk about their experiences, for fear of sounding crazy. Their gift to the world would never be wrapped up in gold tissue paper and presented with the proper awe, but here you were, in this modern metropolis of history. It truly hurt your brain to consider everything that came with that sort of age.

Just then a yell came from outside. “Kun-ge! Are you with Y/N?!” It sounded suspiciously like a panicked Yangyang. He never got panicked.

Kun stood up and hurried over to the front door, blurring in his hurry. “What happened?” he demanded.

“Well, uh, we may or may not have set Yuta’s house on fire…” Yangyang’s voice trailed off as Kun’s face reacted. First his eyebrows raised, then his mouth dropped open, and finally his eyes squeezed shut before reopening after a moment.

“You did what?”

Yangyang’s voice was small. “We set Yuta’s house on fire?” His voice was so high and squeaky that it sounded more like a question than a statement.

“Who is ‘we’?”

“Me, and Hyuck, and Taemin-hyung.”

“Oh my,” Kun said, running a hand over his face and through his hair. “I am going to murder Taemin-hyung.” He turned to Yangyang. “I might murder you and Donghyuck too.”

“We didn’t mean to,” Yangyang said. “It just happened.”

“You didn’t mean to set Yuta’s house on fire? How do you accidentally set someone’s house on fire?”

“You put on an impromptu fire show right next to the house, mess up a trick, and accidentally throw a flaming baton on their house. It was surprisingly easy. Anyway, I know that you would know what to do. You and Y/N both.”

Kun ran his hand through his hair again. You watched as a few light brown strands flew to the carpet with the force of it. “Y/N, do you have anything for flaming houses?”

You looked around your living room as though that would help you remember whether you did or not. “I think so, let me check my storage room,” you muttered, already dashing away. You did, in fact, have something that you loosely translated from the Egyptian spell scroll as “Fire Away Goop,” or something similar. It was a green, nearly transparent goop that sloshed in its bottle but it was too thick to really flow. It oozed more than anything. When it hit heat, it tended to solidify into a more solid green that would be easily removable from Yuta’s house, if said house was still there by the time you got to wherever it was. You grabbed the bottle and rushed back to the living room, panting. Kun turned to you.

“Is it okay if I carry you, to make sure we get there in time?”

“Won’t I be too heavy?”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “We’re literally the strongest things known to man. I’ll be fine.”

“Then sure. Let’s go save Yuta’s house!”

Kun carried you piggyback as fast as he could, your face tucked into his shoulder to avert most of the vertigo induced by such high speeds. Trees flashed by in browns and greens, and then you were going through the city, past the city, through more trees, in a rush that you couldn’t quite comprehend but which caused a sinking feeling to settle in your gut. Yuta’s house was far away. By the time you got there, the house was fully consumed by the flames, the fire burning merrily without knowledge that it was ruining a man’s home.

A man, presumably Yuta, stood out front, another man on his knees next to him. Once you were next to them, you realized that the standing man had the kneeling man’s ear in a tight grip. You figured that the man on his knees must have been the infamous Donghyuck.

“Yuta-hyung, Hyuck,” Kun greeted them as he set you on the ground.

“Yangyang,” said Yuta, turning around, “You’re a bit late.” He nodded at you and Kun in acknowledgement, as Donghyuck yelped at the tug on his ear. Yuta had black hair streaked through with neon green, and it framed a narrow face and startlingly pink lips. You wondered, in the back of your head, if he used lip tint. You also briefly entertained the idea that he contoured his face, because there was no way that he looked that good without makeup. He’s a vampire, your consciousness provided. All of them look that good.

“Sorry hyung,” Yangyang murmured. “We came as fast as we could!”

Kun stepped forward. “We brought Y/N, as you can see, and he has something to put the fire out.” Something like hope sparked in Yuta’s eyes as he looked over you again, taking in details of your appearance.

“Do you really? Well, go ahead.” He gestured to the house and the flames danced in your face, leaving you to hope that this gloop worked for fires this big. You took a deep breath and poured the goop onto the grass, where it oozed between the blades of grass like a big blob of snot on the lawn.

“Atlaq alnaar,” you murmured to it, and it rose into the air, following your mental directions toward the fire. The moment they made contact, the goop started to solidify and expand, covering the fire rapidly. Green overtook bright reds and oranges as you focused on the fire and made the goop cover it.

“Y/N!” Someone was calling to you, their voice out of focus as though you heard them from underwater. “You’ll get covered!” You were vaguely aware of a hand trying to lead you away, but the spell kept you rooted in place, your feet seemingly super glued to the lawn. You kept focus on the fire as the last flames were overtaken and put out. Yuta’s house was now a giant green blob. From what you could see through the jello-like goop, it had sustained a minimal amount of damage considering the amount of flames you had seen. You were so engrossed in the green substance that you missed the warning signs before it swallowed you up too, ever expanding.

It took your outstretched hands first, pulling you forward into it. Through your panic you had just enough brain power left to be amazed at how thick it was before your feet and legs were covered too, nearly encased in the goop. You leaned your head back as far as you could, trying to keep yourself in the open air, but the goop kept expanding. You felt more than saw the vampires try to dig you out, but while the spell still fueled it, the goop was surprisingly strong. A hand grasped your elbow as the goop grasped your neck and chin, keeping you completely still as it covered more of you. The hand let go. It couldn’t do anything now.

You took a deep breath just before the goop covered your mouth, nose, and eyes. You thought you felt something on the back of your neck but didn’t think much of it until it started burning. Any strength you had left crumbled as your eyes started stinging and your oxygen ran out. You couldn't see, but it felt as though the world was spinning around you, as though you had been disconnected from everything but the pain. Even through your lightheadedness the pain persisted. It had spread now, from your neck over your shoulders like the creeping vines on the back wall of Jaemin’s cottage.

Jaemin.

You realized through your hazy thoughts that you would never see him again. Your eyes and nose burned now, from tears you couldn’t cry and the pain slowly enveloping you.

You couldn’t hold on any longer.

Black.

☽༓☾

Across a forest and a small town, Jaemin was working on his Hindi pronunciation when Ten burst into his home for the second time in what seemed like a very short period. He wasn’t dripping this time, just looked thoroughly terrified of something.

“Jaemin! He needs help!”

“What? Who?” Jaemin stood up and walked over to his friend. Ten’s tentacles curled and uncurled repeatedly as he spoke.

“Y/N! The vision got sharper, which usually means it’s happening. The green blob wasn’t a tree, it was some sort of spell! He’s going to die if we don’t get there fast.”

“Where are we going?” Jaemin demanded as they ran through the trees around his cabin.

“Yuta’s house. Or, at least, where it used to be.”

“What happened to Yuta’s house?”

“Yangyang and Hyuck burned it down.”

“Ah.”

Ten was panting as he continued speaking. “I think that must be what the spell was for. Some sort of fire putter-outer.”

Jaemin tried to think back to all of the books he had given you, recalling a spell that sounded suspiciously like what Ten described. “If the one I think you’re talking about is the spell he used,” he told Ten, “we might not be able to save him by the time we get there.” A pang echoed through his chest. An empty feeling, as though your small human life had affected his own so strongly as to make him miss you without knowing that you were gone. Jaemin ran on, leaving Ten behind when he paused to rest, sprinting at his highest speed towards where you were.

When he arrived on Yuta’s plot, most of his vision turned green, not because things were actually green, but from the sheer size of the lime coloured stuff all over Yuta��s house. He had been correct when he guessed at which spell you had used. His gaze fell on Kun, Yangyang, Yuta, and Donghyuck, who stood at the still-expanding base of the blob, seemingly trying to get something out. He gasped. You were in the thing. He ran up and tried to help the others dig you out, to no avail. They couldn't do anything against the spell so long as you were alive, and he wasn’t about to kill the person he had worked so hard to protect. He tried to hold onto your elbow as it was swallowed, but was afraid of hurting you. They all watched as you took a deep breath and the gloop covered your face.

Jaemin slumped, out of ideas. There was no way to save you that he knew of. Then he thought back to Ten’s vision. He had to change you. It was the only way. You wouldn’t need to breathe, wouldn’t need to do anything. You could still be here with him. It was with that in mind that he lunged forward at the last moment and latched onto your neck, stretching his jar as wide as it would go. His fangs, already dripping uncomfortably with venom in your presence, sank into your veins, and he felt it as you stiffened slightly. You couldn’t move much in your current situation, but your muscles seized all the same. He stayed next to you as long as he could, until he was in danger of being swallowed into the goop as well. He licked the wounds closed as efficiently as possible and stepped back with the others to see what happened.

It was obvious that you had gone unconscious. The goop stopped moving so rapidly and seemed to pause in its conquest of the front yard. It started oozing slowly around again, creating something of a reverse muffin top as the top shell hardened and the bottom bits leaked out. They backed up to the edge of the yard and Jaemin used his (admittedly small) knowledge of spellcraft to create wards that would protect the house down the street and hopefully contain the goo. They watched in silence as the green kept expanding. Then Yangyang spoke.

“Will Y/N die?”

“I don’t think so,” said Jaemin slowly. “He shouldn’t, at any rate. I bit him.”

A collective tremor went around the group, as though none of them wanted to appear surprised but they all were.

“It was the only thing I could think of that gave Y/N a chance, so I had to try it,” Jaemin continued. “But Kun-hyung knows more than me on that subject.”

Kun looked pensive as he considered what Jaemin had said. “It should work, in theory. But between the wards always up around Y/N’s house, this spell, and the venom in his system, his body might now be able to take it. It’s just a game of chance, unless we can find some way to take some stress off of his body.”

They all looked to Jaemin again.

“Is there some way to break the wards that he has up?” Yuta asked.

“I don’t think so,” Jaemin said, frowning. “Not without taxing him further. We definitely can’t affect this spell without killing him, and as far as the transformation goes, we’d need to be able to get to his body in there. That’s obviously not happening either.”

“So what can we do?” Donghyuck’s voice was small and he sounded almost repentant, as though he thought this whole thing was his fault. It sort of was, but it was odd to hear that tone from him.

“We ask Ten what he can see of the future and go from there,” Jaemin said. “There’s not much else that we can do, unless anyone knows someone better with spells than Y/N.”

The whole group shook their heads. Spells could be cast by any human variant creature that they knew of, but spellcraft was a human specialty. You in particular were gifted beyond what they had seen in a very long while.

While they thought about it, Ten burst forth from the trees down the street and ran towards their group. He slowed down as he took in the blob, now pressing against the wards that contained it. Jaemin could feel a subtle sort of pressure in his head as his spells kept the goop within Yuta’s plot.

“So?” Ten asked Jaemin as he walked up. “Did it work?”

“We’re not sure. He’s not dead, or the Fire Away spell would have gone small and liquidy again. On the other hand, none of us know any way to get him out, and Kun-hyung’s worried about the toll that all of this” - he waved his hands at the blob - “will kill him while he turns. We wanted to ask what you were seeing as of now.”

Ten closed his eyes, most of his tentacles going still as he focused. There was one that whacked anxiously against the dirt beneath him, beating a steady rhythm against the earth. After a few minutes, his eyes opened and he refocused his eyes on the group around him.

“Well?” Yangyang prompted when he didn’t speak. Ten sighed.

“Good news is that he’s probably not going to die.”

“And the bad news?”

“He might die.”

“What do you mean, Ten-hyung?”

“I can’t… I can’t tell which future is the one that will come true. It’s like there are two possible ways for the future to go, and neither of them is solid. Either he makes it through, or he dies. The worst part is that I can’t tell what causes his death. It could happen two seconds from now, or two hours, or two days. I just don’t know.”

“I don’t remember your visions ever having two outcomes,” Kun said, brows furrowed.

“I haven’t ever had one like this.”

“Well,” Jaemin said, “I’ll just stay here until he wakes up.”

“And where should I go?” asked Yuta. “Maybe nobody told you, but this is my house that just got burned down.” He threw a glare at Hyuck and Yangyang.

“Go stay with Mark-hyung or something. You sleep over with him all the time anyway,” Donghyuck suggested, and Yuta grinned, a complete change from two seconds before.

“He’ll hate that. See you guys later!” He skipped a few steps before running full tilt, phone in his hands and fingers tapping. The glow of the screen disappeared quickly from Jaemin’s view, and he turned back to their now-smaller group.

“Are you sure that you want to stay here until Y/N wakes up?” Kun asked Jaemin. “I know that you don’t need sleep or anything, but that seems like a waste of time.”

“I have eternity,” Jaemin told him. “I just need to be here to watch it deflate, whether it’s because he’s turned or because…” His voice went weak. He couldn't see you die. He just couldn’t. Kun patted him on the shoulder.

“Okay. We’ll come check on you tomorrow.” As he walked away with Yangyang and Donghyuck, Jaemin heard Kun’s ‘mom voice’ come out as he lectured on the dangers of playing with fire. It made Jaemin smile a little.

His head was starting to feel uncomfortable with the pressure of his wards, so he carefully widened them, centimeter by centimeter, until there was less gloop on them. He couldn’t keep this up until you completed the transformation, he knew, but it would work for now. Maybe he could call Kibum-hyung tomorrow for help.

Until then all he had to do was sit and wait, and look at your form encased in neo pearl champagne colored jello.

☽༓☾

It was exactly twenty five hours, forty minutes, and nine seconds since Jaemin had first settled in when the goop started deflating. The hard casing that had developed collapsed in on itself when the slightly softer insides began to shrink, reminding Jaemin slightly of Honey Lemon and her chemical reactions in Big Hero 6. He sprang to his feet, rushing forward to where he could see the outline of your body inside the collapsing bubble, grabbing the empty decanter that the goop had once been held in. He scooped up the small oozing goop that remained from the spell and plugged the decanter, turning around slowly to look at your body once more.

As your still-limp body collapsed to the ground, Jaemin felt his unbeating heart sink. You didn’t move, there was no rise and fall to your chest. There was no sound of your breath in the air. Your eyes didn’t roll around under your eyelids. You seemed… corpselike. Dead. But it couldn’t be. Ten had said that you would probably survive! Jaemin opened his phone and pressed Ten’s contact to call it. He answered on the third ring.

“Jaemin? What’s up?”

“Ten-hyung,” Jaemin said, and his voice cracked. He cleared his throat before continuing. “Y/N… I think, is dead?”

Ten sucked in a breath, audible even through the phone. “Jaemin I’m so sorry-”

Jaemin cut him off. “Hyung, you said he would make it!”

“There was always that chance that he wouldn’t-”

“But you said-” Jaemin’s voice cracked again and he fell into silence. He couldn’t cry, and he had never wished he could until now. Tears might convey the hole in his chest, the emptiness of his existence without your life to partner him.

“Jaemin,” came Ten’s voice, and it was soft, delicate. “I’m so so sorry. I thought that he would make it, but there was always that second path. I can’t-” He took a deep breath. “I can’t see him anymore. I think… I think he might be gone.”

“No!” Jaemin exclaimed hotly. “He can’t be!”

“Jaemin-”

He hung up. Whatever Ten-hyung had to say wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t bring you back. He was along now, with your body and this stupid Flame Away Goop that had managed to take your life despite Ten’s prophecies and Jaemin’s best efforts. The person that you were was gone. Now you were just a still corpse, a painful reminder of what could have been and what should have been and what couldn’t be.

“I’ll give you a proper funeral,” Jaemin told your body as he lifted it into his arms gently. “I promise.”

☽༓☾

For the next three days, Jaemin worked non-stop. He prepared a funeral for you, ignored everyone except to invite them to the event. He could still picture your smile, the way he had to support you those first few steps. He remembered how you had called him gorgeous, how you had said I love you in Gaelic to him without knowing what it meant. He recalled the trust you had for him despite his own occasional self-loathing, the way you had reminded him of his worth every time you were around him.

He missed you. He missed you a lot.

People had called him, came knocking once an hour. He eventually just shut off his phone so he didn’t have to hear their pleas for him to let them in. All of his hyungs and all of his noonas came to make sure he was okay, but would he ever be? There was a Y/N shaped hole in him that he didn’t think could ever be filled up again. Jeno came around three times a day with hug offerings, but Jaemin shut him out. He knew it hurt his friends, knew they only wanted to help, but you were gone and nobody understood. Nobody had loved you the way he had. Nobody had your blood quite literally on their hands, flowing through their veins.

It hurt to think about that. He “lived” while you were dead; he had gained life through your death and that was the most ironic thing. In his attempt to save you, he may have killed you.

He hurt.

On the fourth day since your death, Jaemin gently dressed your body in the best clothes he could find, brushed your hair, and put you in a casket, standing you in an open clearing, the one where he had tried to send you back to Earth. It was the largest clearing nearby, and all of the vampires that had met you plus Ten came to pay their respects. They spoke about the short time they had known you, and the strong impact you had made despite that. They told of how you had gone back to Earth and suffered until you had returned. They told of your feats practicing witchcraft and most of all they spoke of your kindness, the lack of repulsion towards them. They spoke of your kind smile and the way you had fit in so nicely with their community.

Jaemin started not-crying, as vampires did, and he thought he would be alone, but Jeno joined him. Lucas joined him. Jisung and Chenle joined him. Ten and Johnny joined him. He was not the only one who had loved you. Donghyuck joined him. Yangyang and Yuta and Kun joined him. He was not the only one who felt that your death was his fault.

Jaemin was not the only person who choked out their words in an imitation of crying. Jaemin was not the only person who missed you. Jaemin was not the only one who wanted you back. Jaemin was not the only one.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed his friends until they surrounded him in a huge hug. It wasn’t a warm hug, necessarily, but it was a hug nonetheless and made him feel better. He was not the only one.

He was still dealing with the hole in his chest, but he had others to patch himself up with now. Like each person who had known you could bring a part of you back through their memories of you. It was nice, almost.

☽༓☾

The first thing you realized was that you could hear again. Your ears were uncovered, and you vaguely registered words being choked out somewhere near you. It sounded like a large number of people were very sad about something. You wondered what it could be. The second thing you realized was that you were laying down on some sort of padded… thing. It felt like too much work to open your eyes, so you felt around and realized that you were in a padded box. A padded box? That was new.

You tried to sniff the air and were met with the smell of cologne, not too strong but apparently on enough people that it permeated the air. You got hints of perfume too, but it was far less strong. Something in the box shifted and you felt breaths on your face. Were people looking at you in your sleep? Come to think of it, why were these many people around you while you slept at all? That seemed sort of rude. You tried to remember getting here but came up blank. Your last memories were of the pain before you passed out. You shivered at the memory.

“He’s awake!” someone shouted. The noise hurt your ears after the deafening silence of your previous state, and you itched to get away from them. A murmur of sound rolled through the room and then a familiar scent invaded your senses, that of sun-warmed earth.

“Y- Y/N?” Jaemin asked hesitantly. “Can you hear me? Are you in there?”

He sounded absolutely wrecked, like his voice had been stripped of his usual honey and sunshine. You tried to open your eyes, but it was too bright and you just couldn’t, so you nodded slightly.

“Oh my- Y/N,” he continued. “Can’t you open your eyes for me, please?”

You shook your head no.

“Okay, that’s fine, sweetheart. Let me get you out of there.” There was the sound of something wooden being bonked against a wall, but that faded in comparison to the name. Sweetheart. Sweetheart.

You were lifted gently from your padded box and carried somewhere shady and cold. It felt nice against your skin. He felt nice against your skin. He carried you gently, like you were made of glass, but you felt surprisingly strong, just out of sorts. As though while your mind struggled to catch up, your body had strengthened. It was a very different sensation to that of your first time waking up in Jaemin’s house. He walked you through what you thought must be the forest for a bit before he sat down and nestled you into his side. You felt as though some muscles should be unhappy about the position, but you felt completely comfortable.

“Y/N.” Jaemin’s voice came to you, soft and warm and familiar. It was shaking slightly. “Can you open your eyes for me now?”

You focused on your eyelids, raising them slowly until you could see Jaemin. He had on a suit; black jacket over a white shirt, accented by a thin black ribbon tied loosely around his neck. His pink hair fell neatly in waves over his forehead and you reached up to brush away a piece that had fallen over his eyes, smiling.

“Hey Jaem. What happened?” Your voice wasn’t weak, like you supposed it should have been. It came out like a melody into the air, and you marvelled internally at the sound of it, how smooth it was. It felt nice.

“You-” Jaemin broke off for a second, rearranging your limbs next to him. “You were trying to save Yuta’s house. We had to rebuild part, but it’s fine. He stayed with Mark for a few days. For the most part, your spell worked. But then, it- it swallowed you. I got there in time to watch as you were absorbed by this green goop and I thought I was too late. I bit you, back here.” He brushed his fingers gently over the sides of your neck and you shivered. “But you didn’t wake up… I thought I was too late. You weren’t breathing, and you weren’t awake… I have no idea how you managed to cancel the spell without waking up or dying. So I-” He made a choked up sound and tightened his arm around your shoulders. “We’re at your funeral. Ten couldn’t see your future anymore, so we thought you were dead…” He trailed off.

“Wow,” you said. “I died? Then how am I here now? I feel alive?”

“It worked. It must have. You don’t have a heartbeat, but you’re awake. I don’t know what happened exactly, but you must be a vampire now.”

“Huh. I thought I’d feel more… hungry.”

He laughed. It glittered over your ears and you smiled, an involuntary reaction to him. “It’ll kick in, don’t worry.”

“What about the others? I mean, Lucas and Kun and everyone? Are they just at my funeral right now? Without me?”

“Oh.” Jaemin looked as though he had forgotten about them. “I guess they are. Let’s go see them?”

“Let’s.”

☽༓☾

After that day, it didn’t take you long to realize that the other vampires were purposefully putting you with Jaemin for just about everything. On days where you went to hang out with Lucas, he would ask you how Jaemin was doing. If you didn’t know, he would suggest that you go and visit him. Kun asked you to make sure that Jaemin was feeling okay. Yuta, who you were finally allowed to meet and hang out with, constantly suggested that you should spend more time with him. It was strange. Nobody had seemed to mind that you had your own hobbies before your transformation, but now that you were a vampire, it was as though you were meant to be with Jaemin all of the time. You asked Lucas about it once you got sick of the mysterious treatment and he looked at you heavily.

“When you got trapped in that goopy stuff, Jaemin went all weird. He didn’t move for, like, more than 24 hours, and once he thought you were dead… he didn’t talk to any of us until the funeral. We worry about him, and you seem to make him really happy, so we’re trying to keep you two around each other.”

You didn’t really know what to say to that, so you chose the very eloquent “oh,” as your response. Lucas chuckled.

“I know. It was really weird, I’ve never seen him like that. I think we’ve seen a lot of new sides of Jaemin since you came along.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It’s… well, I don’t think it’s bad or good. It just is. You affect him differently than anyone else we know.”

“Why is that, do you think?”

“Y/N, you idiot, he’s in love with you.”

“He’s what?”

Lucas sighed. “He’s in love with you.”

“Why do you think that? This is Jaemin we’re talking about here. Jaemin. He’s, like, beauty incarnate and he’s smart and kind and wonderful in every aspect of everything. He just can’t be in love with me.”

“He’s in love with you.”

“He’s not.”

“He is.”

“He can't be.”

“Why not?”

“I just told you why.”

Lucas sighed again, more deeply. “But you’re in love with him.”

“I-” You consider that. “I guess?”

“That wasn’t a question.” He rolled his eyes.

“Do you think it’s possible that he actually does like me back?”

“Yes.”

Somehow, after that, Lucas managed to steer the conversation onto other subjects and you refocused on those things, but it echoed in your head. He’s in love with you.

☽༓☾

Even with this new information bouncing around the forefront of your brain, you still had to go and spend time with Jaemin. Maybe it was a little strange for your thoughts to short circuit when you saw him, the little whisper of what if in your head. Maybe it was a little peculiar for a vampire such as yourself to stutter through sentences because you were busy thinking about what life would be like if he really did like you back. Maybe you spent less time talking on your walks together because you wanted to lay next to him in a clearing and watch the clouds instead. Just maybe.

If Jaemin noticed any of your strange behaviour, he didn’t call you out on it. He either really wasn’t paying all that much attention, or he knew enough about you to know that you wouldn’t want him to pry. It was strange, really, how well you knew each other in such a short time. You supposed that since you spent so much time together it wasn’t improbable, but he knew you nearly as well as your old human friends back home.

Thinking about your old memories was a strange experience. You could remember everything as clearly as your human self could, but you noticed more the lack of detail within the images, the way your human eyes couldn’t move as fast as your vampire ones, and your reflexes weren’t as fast, and the way you fixated on one part of the picture without taking in the details of the rest of your vision. You had entirely blocked out memories of driving, they were too harrowing. You recalled more easily now all of the times you had nearly hit something or someone, and while you couldn't die now, at least not that easily, you could have easily fallen prey to the fatal blind spot more times than you’d care to admit.

When you told Jaemin about that, he laughed that laugh you loved so much. “I was born in fourteen forty-two, Y/N. We didn’t have cars back then. The only thing on the street that would run me over was a horse-drawn carriage.”

“Well,” you retorted, “you should consider yourself lucky then. Carriages and horses don’t sound half so bad as giant hunks of metal flying at each other at eighty miles per hour.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he mused, stroking an imaginary beard. “Maybe I was lucky to be born in Korea during the 1400s. You may have heard of the emperor Sejong the Great? I was born during his rule. He was one of the best emperors Korea ever had, he introduced hangul and united the country under Confucian principles so that there was more love for the country and the people living in it. Peaceful few years we had there, from what little I remember. After that, though? Lots of killing, children on the throne, et cetera et cetera. Not so fun. And I was actually able to die through all of that, so that wasn’t pleasant. But then King Sejo, the one who did the killing, actually did a pretty okay job of ruling the country and we had a few more years of prosperity. He died six years after my transformation. I missed that event because I was here in Vahmpyr getting to know Jeno, who turned me.”

“How much of the group was around, at that point?”

“Well…” Jaemin closed his eyes briefly in thought. “Here, let me draw you a family tree.” He grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and wrote ‘Moon Taeil’ at the top. “Okay so as you know, Taeil is here as the first of us. He turned Yuta-hyung, Kun-hyung, Johnny-hyung, and Taeyong-hyung.” He wrote in their names under Taeil’s, spacing them out across the paper.

“Yuta-hyung turned Sicheng-hyung and Shotaro; Kun-hyung turned Dejun-hyung and Lucas-hyung; Johnny-hyung turned Jungwoo-hyung and Mark, and Taeyongie-hyung turned Hyuck, Doyoung-hyung, and Jaehyun hyung.” He labeled all of these names, then drew more stems leading from Jaehyun, Lucas, and Dejun.

“Jaehyun-hyung turned Sungchan, Lucas-hyung turned Hendery-hyung and Yangyang, and Dejun-hyung turned Renjun.” He drew all of these connections and stemmed Renjun’s name down even farther.

“Renjun turned Jeno and Chenle, then Jeno turned me, and I turned Jisung and now you.” He finished the tree with a flourish, black ink stark against the creamy paper. They were all connected, in some way, to Taeil’s venom. And there was you, at the very bottom, your name small next to Jisung’s.

“You guys are all so… connected.”

“Yep! We’re all one big family.”

“Do you guys have, like, family reunions? And who changed Joy and her friends? Or what’s-his-face? Taemin?”

“We don’t really all get together a lot, just because most of us have jobs on Earth or spend our days doing stuff on our own. Some of them like having flings all the time. Obviously none of us can get STDs or get pregnant, so they can do that, no strings attached. We sort of hang out in our individual groups for the most part, and then hang out every once in a while. As far as the others, we think that they must have come from the same person as Taeil-hyung, a very very old vampire. There are other stories like ours across Vahmpyr, where one vampire created one member of each coven and let us grow from there. The difference is that some of them actually have good relationships with those older vampires, whereas I’ve never met ours. I’ve heard that there’s a man called Park Jae-sang who actually comes around to spend time with the vampires he’s changed. The closest we have to an old vampire is Leeteuk-hyung, and he isn’t really around much, plus he’s not that much older than Taeil-hyung.

“Anyway, to answer your question, when I was turned, nearly everyone was around already. Only Yangyang, Sungchan, Shotaro, Chenle, and Jisung are younger than me. And now you.”

“Wow, so you had to meet everyone right after your transformation? I bet that was chaotic.”

“It was, but it was also fun. I got to be the baby for a while. Then the others came around and I somehow became a mother figure.”

You laughed. Jaemin was a mother figure, for sure. He liked to take care of the people around him, including humans that his brothers had brought home for him to patch up. “That doesn’t surprise me one bit.”

He giggled along with you, that laugh you adored so much, and grinned. “I guess it sort of fits me, doesn’t it? Mother Jaem.” He rolled the name over his tongue and you collapsed into laughter again. “I think that works well, yep.”

The next few days, you called him Mother Jaem, and everyone gave you weird looks, but it made Jaemin laugh hard enough that it was worth it.

☽༓☾

One day after this, Chenle pulled Jaemin aside to ask him what on Earth was going on with this whole “Mother Jaem” thing. Jaemin explained happily how it had come about. Chenle rolled his eyes dramatically.

“When are you two getting married?”

Jaemin just gave him a blank stare. “What?”

“It’s so disgusting how much you guys love each other! When can we shove you two together in a house and call it a day?”

“Um, okay, first of all, that is not how you get rid of somebody. Second, he doesn't love me? And third, there is definitely not enough space in his house for me, even if he did.”

Chenle pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lucas was right, you guys are blind fools. Of course he loves you! He goes to see you all the time! And enjoys it! You’re both in love with each other and both of you are cowards.” He ran his hand through his hair, knocking a piece into his eye. He squinted unhappily but didn’t try to move it.

Jaemin sighed as he got the chunk of hair away from Chenle’s eye. “This is Y/N we’re talking about though! He might hate me for everything I put him through and only stick around because I turned him or something. Plus, he spends as much time with Lucas as with me.”

“My God, your logic is terrible. You love him, he loves you, you need to get together. Watch some dramas and kiss him in the rain or something. Lucas even told me that he loves you!”

“That’s astonishingly specific for someone who doesn’t have a romance under their belt.”

“That’s besides the point!” Chenle grabbed the sides of Jaemin’s face and held him still while he spoke. “You need to confess sometime or another before the rest of us go crazy watching you run in circles around each other.”

With that he stalked away, leaving Jaemin rubbing his face where Chenle’s fingertips had pressed into the skin. It didn’t hurt, but the echoes of his voice and his fingers held Jaemin still for a long time afterwards.

☽༓☾

The next week, Kun and Taeil invited the whole coven to a reunion at Kun’s country estate. Having never been, you looked forward to seeing the giant house as much as meeting the rest of the family. It didn’t disappoint, it was absolutely massive, at least four or five floors and extensive gardens in front. Kun gave you free run of the place, asking you to please not enter rooms marked with a “Do Not Enter” sign. Simple rule to follow. You entered the main hall first, feeling like royalty in such an elegant room. Twin staircases led from the upstairs, leading your eyes to an extravagant chandelier covered in hundreds of crystals, and a mint green ceiling. From either side of the large room extended hallways with lush pale blue rugs and endless vases on platforms. It felt as though you had entered the past, or maybe a very expensive movie set. You moved through hallways and rooms, gazing at velvet chairs and old paintings that screamed money. You wondered if someone in Vahmpyr painted them, or if they were from Earth. You found only two rooms marked “Do Not Enter,” one of which was in a long hallway of bedrooms, so you assumed it was Kun’s.

The other was in the back of a positively colossal library. The library caught your eye because of the sheer size of it. Rows upon rows of books lined the walls and seemingly endless freestanding shelves. It was as large as the main public library back home, taking up at least four average rooms worth of space per floor. Not to mention the height. You estimated that it was at least three floors high, perhaps four. An entire long wall was devoted to Kun’s studies in medicine, dating back to leeches and poultices on open wounds through Magnetic Resonance Imaging and the most advanced of current surgeries. He had records of patients stacked by century, and a desk that popped out of the wall to reveal his own notes on developing vaccines and other medicines. Had you still been human, you were certain that a room like this would have given you a headache, from the size and the amount of books to look at.

From the medicine section you moved to other sciences like forensics, geology (although that section was considerably smaller), and astronomy. You also discovered an entire section on aviation. In the astronomy section, you found cork boards with maps pinned to them, stars drawn in detail, space stations built for both humans and vampires, and more drawings you didn't know how to interpret. You pulled out a few books at random and flipped through them, smiling at the notes in the margins. Past those sections were books on every type of science you had ever heard of, and some you hadn’t.

Beyond those were histories, and Kun’s travel section. He had bins filled with brochures, maps, and travel magazines and accounts of, from what you could tell, every war known to have occurred past Kun’s turning. That blended into social studies, and you found books on language next to copies of the Bible in seemingly every version, translations of the Quran, and more religious texts. Stock market trends were recorded and stored next to books on how to hire smart and anthropology. Cultural studies were stored with ethics and political records. Newspapers appeared as well, although those were fewer than the books by far. They appeared to be from a singular area, a place called Taining County, in China. Kun must have some sort of tie to it. You made a mental note to ask him when you rejoined the others.

You climbed a staircase to the second floor, where you found a fireplace and sitting area within the books. It appeared that the entire second floor was books organized by language, starting each section with children’s books and working their way up to novels. You found all of the Romance Languages, German, Hindi, Greek, Tagalog, Russian, Dutch, Japanese, Cantonese, Thai, Korean, Arabic, Bengali, Telugu, Tamil, Urdu, Latin and more that you didn’t know. In the back was a small compilation of different countries’ sign languages, as well.

You climbed the next flight of stairs to the third floor, finding the fiction section. These were organized by genre, with horror on one shelf, science fiction hogging four shelves on the opposite walls, romance taking up a large section next to that, et cetera. You spotted a section marked “Transcribed” and walked over to it, finding books handwritten by Kun, presumably taken from other forms and written over to fit in his library. You imagined the wax tablets and stone slabs of old books and shuddered. Even as a vampire, transporting those wouldn’t be easy. This floor was open in the middle, looking down at the second. Above you, the next floor was open as well and housed more shelves.

You walked up the last staircase and came upon a musical archive. There were phonographs on tables next to more recent record turntables, followed by cassette players and CD players. Each one was in impeccable condition, and behind them were shelves of every format that would work with those machines. These were shorter shelves, since the music was thinner than books, but there were still many many of them. You saw cassette boxes labeled with the albums contained within, records in yellowed sleeves, and CDs in thick storage cases. They were organized by decade, with the earliest dating back to the late nineteenth century. You guessed that was when recorded music had been invented. Perhaps Kun could still remember older pieces though; something else you would have to ask him about. You were looking through the most recent music to see what he liked and if you had heard of it when you heard someone calling your name.

“Y/N? Where are you?”

“In the library, fourth floor!” you yelled back.

“Will you come back to the kitchen and help me with this?”

“Sure!”

You weren’t sure who was calling you, but it sounded like Lucas, so you ran towards the kitchen. You weren’t sure entirely why there was a kitchen, since you all drank blood anyway, but you figured there was a good reason. You added that to your growing list of things to ask Kun. You understood why you had a kitchen in your house since you had lived in it while you were still human, but Kun hadn’t been to Vahmpyr before he was turned as far as you knew. Besides, he usually lived in his apartment next to the other guys. Maybe it was just necessary to have a kitchen in a house, you didn’t know. It would have felt weird, you guessed, to live in a house without one.

When you arrived, Lucas was outside as you had guessed.

“Will you run in and grab these things for me?” he asked, handing you a sticky note. “I’ve been tasked with rounding up everyone else.”

“Yeah, no problem,” you replied, walking through the doors into the room. It was industrial, like Kun cooked for dozens of people at a time, and there was a surprising amount of cooking utensils that wouldn’t work on raw bodies, like spatulas. You looked down at the sticky note for the first time. If you don’t confess, it read, I will smack you when you come back out. And you know how big my hands are, I will make it hurt.

“What?” you murmured to yourself as Jaemin walked into the room.

“Oh hey Y/N, did Chenle send you?”

“No, Lucas did. But did Chenle perhaps give you a sticky note with things to get for him on it?”

Jaemin glanced down at a hot pink slip of paper in his hand. “Yeah.” He looked back up at you before his brow furrowed and he looked more thoroughly at the writing on it. He groaned. “I am going to kill Chenle.” He ran a hand through his cotton candy pink hair. “I guess I should just get it over with then.”

He walked closer to you, setting the sticky note on the counter as he came. “I’m kind of in love with you? And I have been for a while? I mean I get if you hate me after everything I put you through, but according to Chenle you like me back? And… yeah?”

You were left speechless. Hate Jaemin? Never. And he… loved… you?

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Jaemin waved a hand in front of your face. “I’m sorry, I’ll go, Chenle must have set up a prank.” He started walking away and you grabbed his wrist.

“Jaem, hold on. I’m just in shock. I thought there was no way you could like me back…” Your voice got steadily smaller until it trailed off at the end of your sentence as a whisper.

His entire face lit up like a Christmas tree plugged in for the first time, glowing and cheerful. “It’s not a prank?”

You rubbed a hand over your face. “No, it’s not a prank. I thought Lucas was kidding when he said you liked me back. Or at least that he was wrong. You- you’re actually telling me that you’re in love with me?”

“I am.”

“Holy shit.”

He laughed, a ringing sound in the quiet of the kitchen. It echoed back at you as though the happiness of the laugh had been multiplied. “They’re going to be so smug,” he muttered.

“Oh yes they are. We’re going to have to get back at them someday.”

“Well, we have forever,” he reminded you. You grinned and held out your hand. He took it.

“Let’s go get the teasing over with then.”

You walked out of the kitchen and down the hall. “What did Chenle threaten you with if you didn’t confess?” you asked.

“Oh, he was going to tell the group about the fling I had with Jeno when we were younger.”

You looked at him in shock. “You had a fling with Jeno? Why would you choose me over him?”

“It was just sexual attraction. While that works for some people, both of us were happier just being friends, so we ended it. I actually am in love with you, which makes all the difference. Anyway, Chenle got that story out of me on a dare once and has held it over my head ever since.”

“I wonder if he’s told Jeno he knows?”

“Probably.”

You had reached the front room, and you took a deep breath as you walked forward, though it did nothing for your undead body. “Let’s throw ourselves to the wolves.”

As you walked out into the sunlight, a cheer rose up that would have sent birds flapping away, had there been any. You heard Chenle’s unique laugh paired with Lucas’ happy shouts of “yes!” and the voices of the other men you had gotten to know, paired with ones you didn’t. They stood in a group in the garden, whooping and throwing up hats if they had any. Lucas was the first to reach you.

“I can’t believe you actually did it! I thought I’d have to smack you!” He sounded far too happy at the prospect for your liking.

The rest of the boys ran over. There was a repeating round of “finally” until someone mentioned the food getting warm and there was a great rush to get back to the patio in the garden. You sat next to Jaemin in patio chairs as the sun slowly sank past the tree line and talked with friends old and new.

There was something new, something warm inside of you. A feeling of belonging more than ever when Jaemin fed you a little and the rest of the guys booed jokingly. Under the rising stars you kissed him for the first time, a quick peck at the behest of Yangyang. There were more cheers and hugs and someone had a polaroid camera out, the flash lighting up the scene as everyone laughed.

This was where you were meant to be.

End.

!!Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated!!

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spidersbane · 3 years

Note

Hello! Can I get MCU, The Hobbit, and The Man From U.N.C.L.E. ship? 💚

Appearance: She/her. 179,5cm tall, rectangle body shape. Fair skin complexion with quite a few birthmarks. Dyed brown with honey-red highlights, shoulder-length, straight hair with bangs. The left eye is a mix of two colors – a smaller portion of (darker) greyish-blue and a larger portion of hazel; while the right eye is just a (lighter) greyish-blue. Heptagon face shape with two dimples on the left cheek and one on the right cheek (only visible while smiling). A gap between the upper front teeth.

Personality (good and bad traits): Ever since I was a kid, I was always quite mature for my age – I identify myself as an old soul. I come off as polite and well-mannered to strangers, yet I tend to keep it to myself by being reserved. But, that’s because I have social anxiety and I’m nervous and shy when meeting/talking to people. The only people I’m comfortable with being with my inner circle – closest friends and family. I am usually more “open” with my friends than with my family. With my friends I can be my “truest-self” – I smile more, I laugh more, I feel more accepted and understood. I am the mom and the fashionista of the group. Don’t get me wrong, I am fiercely protective of my family, especially of my mother and younger sister. But, lately, I’ve been feeling like the “black sheep” of the family, Cinderella who’s been taken advantage of. I express my affection for the people I care about in little, but practical, ways. I can be a little stiff when it comes to open, gushy displays of affection. Others turn to me for help and advice. I’m kind-hearted and generous, always ready to help a person in need. Always have been motherly towards children. Very awkward at keeping small talk (usually with people that I’m not that close with). Absolutely, hate speaking in front of a public, and if I do, because of my nervousness, I tend to mess up my words and/or I practice whatever I’m about to say in my head at first. I appreciate the simplicity and am often most comfortable when I’m not getting too much attention from the world. I am sensitive – both to criticism and to others’ feelings (I sponge up the feelings and moods of people and the environment around me). Have a hard time saying no or expressing my true thoughts, feelings. I get influenced by other people’s opinions/thoughts quite hard (I take everything to the heart), that is why I tend to keep a lot to myself (may come off as a little bit tense, secretive, mysterious). I avoid the harsh reality by daydreaming (almost every day) – imagining myself in situations far from my current circumstances. Sort of like a self-escape. I worry a lot and overthink almost everything. I am easily distracted and my attention span can be quite short. I have an internal struggle between my needs and wants. I can lack focus and be indecisive as a result – when I decide on one route, I am pulled in another direction at the same time (“But what if…”, “on the other hand...”). That is why I’m having a bit of a struggle with deciding what I want to do in the future (career-wise). I am easily overwhelmed by pressure and stress. There is a self-destructive side to me (self-critical, lack of self-confidence) that I’m working on by confronting my fears (coming out of my shell). Don’t like taking pictures, or other people taking pictures of me. I feel most content when I’ve straightened out all the details of everyday life. I have a routine, that I follow by mostly every day, and if something small changes in that routine, I start to have a small internal anxiety attack. Also, I like to do things my own way, like, when it comes to cleaning the house or organizing stuff, etc. I get triggered even if people don’t do the laundry the way I do. I guess you could describe me as a perfectionist, clean/control freak. In triggering situations I can be impulsive, spontaneous, quick to act. Quick flare-ups of anger/annoyance when being provoked on my patience. Even when I’m feeling low, I manage to find humor in life and have fun with whatever I do have. Although I tend to bottle things up, I am an emotional person and my emotions are genuine – I love and care deeply and passionately and wish no ill will upon anyone, yet it hards for me to imagine someone falling in love with me or just liking me.

Hobbies, likes: My hobbies are cleaning, writing (re-writing song lyrics, making small notes, writing stories), listening to any type of music, catching up on my favorite films and TV shows, hanging out with friends, going to the cinema, or the club, being out in nature, reading, traveling. I like history, cooking, fashion magazines (or fashion in general), road trips, spirituality, mythology, books, orange juice, previous decades, cottage-core, dark academia.

Overall: Hufflepuff. INFP-T. Bi-sexual. Pisces-Aries cusp sign. “Looks like could kill you, but is actually a cinnamon roll.” A feminist, support LGBTQ+ community. That’s it, thank you!

hey @pataim ! thanks so much for sending in your request, and thank you so much for your honesty about yourself. like it takes a lot to air yourself out like that, and I admire your strength for it. but also fINALLY a 'Man from U.N.C.L.E' ship! I love that movie and attempt Illya's accent all the time, so this will be fun :)

For the MCU/Marvel - I ship you with Steve Rogers/Captain America !

no one can tell me that Steve doesn’t have a set routine honestly, so let me just get that out there

he seems intimidating at first, esp as a public figure and Avenger, but Steve is nothing but passionate about what he does. so it may clash w your lack of direction, but I could honestly see him envying that a lil bit, like it’s not that you don’t have direction, it’s the fact that you still have a choice in the matter.

your love of history put you in a museum, here you bumped into Steve in a horrible disguise. he struck up the conversation first, and once you got past the whole “holy crap that’s Captain America”, you could actually engage with him in the material and boi was he smitten

he would love to join you when your rewatched your fave things, bc not only is he catching up on more media he missed out on, he’s also getting to know your interests in a way that’s comfortable with you. it avoids all the small talk, but leaves room for discussion after the film/show !

since you tend to sponge up a lot of what other people believe, it’s totally Steve who actually tries to question what you think and what you feel about things. he’s someone who encourages you to have your own opinions and to stay true to those thoughts. so while with him, you can rely on him to learn about yourself, you also gain skills for independence

overall, Steve is super patient, and despite his chaotic job as Cap, he takes comfort in his routine, and would find comfort incorporating a partner’s routine into his life. and as you grow in a relationship with him, he’s patient about teaching you how to be your own person, and helping you learn more about yourself. and while it’s uncomfortable, you grow stronger throughout being with him :)

For The Hobbit - I ship you with Bilbo Baggins !

Bilbo is the definition of introvert, and you're right there with him

not that introversion is ever a bad thing, bc it isn't. but Bilbo is quite content to sit in his little hobbit hole and vibe. like Gandalf had to come find him, ya know. dude disappeared from his own bday.

but anyways. it's not that Bilbo lacks purpose, it's just that he's more content with a quieter life. and it seems like his quiet life would balance you out well! like the Shire is so so chill, and there doesn't really seem to be a lot of pressure on the hobbits to pick a profession. like they just genuinely do what needs to get done.

similarly, Bilbo is the type who seems a little bothered by mushy displays of affection. exhibit a: disappearing from his own bday. like he's much more the type to refill your tea when y'all are reading by the fireplace, which he would totally do w you

it will probs take you a little while to warm up to each, given just how introverted you both are. but when he explains that he has set ways of doing things, then if they're compatible w your ways of doing things, then it doesn't take you long to open up to him

like it'll be a little jarring, but he takes comfort in his routines too. and it'll be an event trying to incorporate both of your ways of life together, but he's willing to do it

overall, yours is a very quaint partnership, built on deep respect for one another. neither of you are going to push the other to do things you aren't into. and y'all just live your best lives together tbh :)

For The Man From U.N.C.L.E - I ship you with Illya Kuryakin !

I love my big Russian spy so much, so this is fun for me

so Illya is the epitome of reserved and generally quiet, so it might take a while to really break down his walls and talk to him. and he's not quite sure what to do with you once you join the team

but, he's playing his game of chess alone, and when you sit down and ask to play with him, he opens up a little more after that

if you're one who get sent out on mission with the team, get ready, bc sometimes those missions require a lot of improvising. but you'd probably be at whatever 'base' was, helping run operations from a more secure place. but Illya and Napoleon improvise a lot, leading to a lot of headaches for you and Waverly

Illya has small bursts of anger, but similar to Gaby, most times, you can intervene and he doesn't get violent. or when he does, he tries to make sure it isn't in front of you. but bc you care so deeply for him, you're there for him in the aftermath. and that's how you show your love for him.

by patching him up if he gets cut, by talking him down when he's angry. and just generally trying to take care of him. and he totally does the same for you, especially if you get sent out into the field

and much to Illya's dismay, Solo doesn't refrain form making jokes about you. but if you can take them in stride, then Solo welcomes you into the team just as well :)

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canyouhearthelight · 3 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 125

I am so sorry that this is posting late today!! I didn’t realize my queue ran out, or that I didn’t load these in there.

Thank you, every day, to everyone who helped me hang in there as long as I’ve been lucky enough to write this story. As much fun as the weapons expo was, I swear we are working towards everything else that has changed in the time skip! I would love to hear what y’all are most excited to find out about.

Shoutouts always go to @baelpenrose, @charlylimph-blog, and @the-raven-fae for all your encouragement, plot bunnies, and beta-reading.

The day after the weapons exhibition, the air on the Ark was still crackling with excitement. Every time I overheard people chattering over a specific performance, I smiled to myself. That particular event had been the first that Parvati and Hannah planned without my help, and hearing the overwhelming approval for it was something I would be all too happy to convey back to them. They really had done a great job.

Sebastian ended up bowing out after the first year, because he was unable to balance the demands of the mentorship and the Undine. As the only one of the three who could not just change their job responsibilities, he had chosen his passion - which absolutely no one was upset about. Parvati had even joked that we had backup Councillors, but only one Undine.

The response I received from my mentees when I shared what I heard, however, was underwhelming. Hannah gave a small smile and nodded, while Parvati waved off the praise with a scoff. “We were essentially following a template,” she pointed out.

Hannah nodded at me with a rueful expression. “Unfortunately, she’s right. There wasn’t much of a challenge, there.”

Just as a full pout was settling into my chest, Alistair breezed in and took off his scarf - for once, I couldn’t tell myself it was just for dramatic effect, as the climate controls in public areas were phased in to mimic what was projected for seasonal changes on Von. Currently it was the cold season, and Alistair was miserable about it. “Of course it wasn’t a challenge,” he scowled. “You both have been assisting Madam Reid since the exhibitions began. However, it is profoundly rude to ignore the feedback you received.” He glared at Parvati and Hannah, who managed to look sheepish. “One of you will be Councillor one day, and your responsibility will be things just like this. You should be pleased with a job well done, not resting on your laurels.”

I nodded and didn’t bother hiding my grin. “He’s right, you know. Besides, don’t forget that this is when the hard part starts.”

Two sets of eyes widened at me, with Hannah adding a gasp of horror. “Oh gods. The feedback…”

“Yep.” I popped the last letter as I took my seat and the coffee that Alistair offered, noticing that he did not retrieve any for my mentees. Apparently he was really miffed by their attitudes before. “And, along with coordinating the event on your own…”

“Sophia, you’re joking,” Parvati glared.

“I am most certainly not,” I shook my head. “Every event, you have to read the feedback. You can filter it all you want, narrow down the categories, whatever. But I strongly recommend that you read all of the negative feedback if nothing else.”

“But you’ve always had help,” Hannah pointed out calmly.

“I did,” I admitted, “but that doesn’t mean I ignored or delegated the important parts. Having people who you trust to do a pulse check of what is being said unofficially is an extremely valuable tool. However, at the end of the day, the performance of the events, or the projects, or the staffing balances, comes right back to this office and only this office. I can listen to Tyche, or my partners, or other Councillors until my ears fall off. But if something went wrong, or could have been done better, I’m the one who catches fault for that. Which means, eventually, it will be one of you.”

With a deep breath, both women nodded and opened the files in question. After simply staring and scrolling for a few minutes, Parvati sat back and tapped the side of her chin. “Can we filter out all comments under five words and comments with only positive adjectives that do not contain a conditional statement?” She glanced at me and I nodded my approval.

That seemed to spark an idea in Hannah. “Prioritize comments including the words ‘dangerous’, ‘barbaric’, or synonyms of.” When her co-mentee gave her a quizzical look, she shrugged. “It’s good to have at least a count of people who object to the weapons exhibitions, and if they are just a small number at least there are guaranteed to be a few in there that are pretty funny.”

Parvati still looked like she wasn’t convinced, so Alistair spoke up. “If you do not enjoy the weapons exhibitions, why are you attending?”

“Ahhh,” she smiled. Clearly the thought had never occurred to her, which was entirely unsurprising. Parvati hadn’t dated Xiomara as long as she did by harboring a secret grudge against self-defense and proper applications of force.

Now that they found a starting point for weeding through the feedback, it was clear they were engrossed in gathering information. Periodically, I would hear one make a considering noise before jotting down a note to come back to later. I quietly moved to my desk and observed how differently they handled the process - When I went through feedback with Alistair, we shared it on the table emitter so both could see. Parvati and Hannah, however, sat across from each other, on their singular data pads, flicking particular pieces of information back and forth to each other without even glancing up. The partnership they had developed over the last four years of working with me was astounding to watch.

“What you are feeling now is exactly what it feels like to watch you and Tyche,” Alistair murmured, startling me out of my reverie. When I glanced at him, he simply lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head. “Even after working with you both for so long, there are moments where it is clear you both are working on some sort of wavelength the rest of us are not aware of.”

“Charly is pretty tuned in to it. And Arthur, when he wants to be.”

“Miss Harper is a force unto herself.” The corner of his mouth lifted in one of his rare, fond smiles. “As for Farro, I am beginning to believe that Reidish is one of the languages he learned for historical manuscripts.” Snark dripped from his tone out of old habit - if there had ever been any animosity between the two, it was long gone.

Although, apparently the hypothetical existence of ‘Reidish’ as a language was still bopping it’s merry way around the Ark.

“Noah,” I pointed out. “They understand us perfectly well.”

“Yes, let us all congratulate you two, not only on the fact that a mind-reading alien understands your communication better than your own species, but also on the fact that you have tainted them with your mannerisms.” The sarcasm would have stung, had he not felt the need to demonstrate by tipping his index finger and thumb over his eye in imitation of an eyebrow with one hand, while making a sock-puppet nod with the other - both of which were gestures Noah used as filler for human body language. The contrast between his words, the gestures, and the absolute deadpan expression on his face sent me into hysterics.

I didn’t realize we were being watched until Hannah’s voice broke through my laughter. “Derek actually taught them the eyebrow one. That wasn’t Sophia or Tyche. He started doing it because he can’t just lift one eyebrow, and Miys started mimicking him when they saw how useful it was to convey tone.” When Alistair only stared at her in disbelief, she huffed and turned to her datapad before flicking a recording to the table emitter.

Sure enough, there was Derek, adjusting Miys ‘fingers’ and repeating the gesture for them to imitate. After several adjustments of where the vomu was held, Derek seemed satisfied and flashed a double thumbs-up, which was returned in triplicate. As the recording ended, Hannah turned back with the smuggest expression I had ever seen on her gentle face.

“I’ll be damned.” Alistair’s voice was soft with surprise and a hint of admiration.

“Hannah, how do you have that?” I asked, concerned for Derek’s privacy.

She waved me off. “Zach was doing routine security sensor testing, found that in the process, and asked Derek if we could keep a copy of it. Derek said it was okay, and asked for a copy for himself.” She shrugged. “I’d never seen him voluntarily touch someone that much before, and even without that, it was adorable.”

“I’m glad he knows you have it,” I sighed in relief. “But yeah, it makes sense, honestly.” Hannah nodded in agreement, while Parvati and Alistair were clearly waiting for an explanation. I started ticking off reasons on my fingers. “Miys is very careful of personal space because they know how large they are, and Derek hates having his space invaded without permission. Miys is never ‘too loud’ for Derek, or touches without permission, or even speaks to him without Derek speaking first. There’s no pressure for eye contact, even just in Derek’s head, because Miys doesn’t have eyes.”

“Your mind is a strange and wonderful place,” Alistair stated drily before turning to Hannah and Parvati. “I hope you two have been taking notes on it. I happen to know what your next event is, and you’re going to need that level of insight.”

Arching an eyebrow at him, Parvati did not even look away to pull up her calendar, dragging it into her line of sight. Her eyes widened suddenly.

“You have three months,” I pointed out.

She reached out and shook Hannah’s arm vigorously. “Han.”

A quick glance and a second horrified expression looked at me from the table.

“Three months.”

“Sophia.”

“You’ve both helped me with it, for at least the last four years. And you said you wanted a challenge.”

They both groaned comically, but I struggled not to smile at their antics. I knew they weren’t really as worried as they pretended to be.

Alistair leaned over the whisper again. “I thought Tyche was the evil one.”

That did get me to smile.

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#the miys #humans are weird #found family #humans are space orcs #earth is space australia #survival #apocalypse #aliens #haw #hfy #humans are space fae #science fiction #scifi #original scifi #original writing #my writing

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ask-artsy-oncie · 3 years

Text

So I’m kinda in a meh/apathetic headspace in regards to my mental health right now. Maybe it would be best to just let some thoughts out.

Firstly, I do want to apologize for making stupid, borderline inflammatory posts and throwing them out there onto tumblr dot com, I know that’s never the best course of action. However, I really, really do not appreciate anons sending vague “are you okay”s at me. If you’re not close enough to me where you can’t PM me (relatively) face-to-face, then I really wouldn’t like random inquiries about my mental health from you. Maybe it’s just because I don’t 100% trust anons (I’ve been here for a decade, I’ve seen some shit, can you really blame me?) but I think I ought to make myself clear on that. Are we clear on that? cool.

I don’t know... I’ve felt so lost and tired recently, moreso than usual.

I’ve always had a massive complex about annoying people, being too self-indulgent, not having good ideas or opinions or what-have-you. People who have known me for a while almost definitely know that. I don’t think it all necessarily exists in a vacuum, either I have a genuinely hard time coming up with objectively good ideas. Sometimes I’m just straight-up “head empty” mode. I’m also often really opinionated and sometimes intend to die on hills that people aren’t really meant to die on (or are even necessarily worth dying on). I can get way too wrapped up on meaningless things because my brain is too hyperfocused on this one thing, or maybe something I rely too heavily on for comfort is... I don’t know how to put it.... put at risk? Challenged? I have a lot of mental issues and real life issues, though I’m not claiming to be massively oppressed or anything, but I tend to cling to comforts a little too desperately. And I’m not just talking about like. Media. Just comforts in general. Sometimes I’ll spend too much of the day laying in bed. Sometimes I cling to old relationships or old forms of relationships or I constantly worry about the day I’ll inevitably no longer have the same relationships I have now.

I’ve known I needed therapy for a while now. I’m waitlisted and everything, but I need to go about actually choosing a therapist to see and I’ve been dragging my feet on that so I guess that’s my bad. I’ll get to it. Shit’s overwhelming, yknow?

Anyways I know I have a lot of these flaws and problems and I think my horrible anxieties about being too annoying and whatnot is just a really extreme form of self-reflection. Maybe. Not entirely sure. Maybe a therapist could tell me.

I get way too passionate, way too easily, and it’s almost always followed by a super intense period of shame, like, to the point where I’m desperate to isolate myself and destroy my relationships with other people, because then at least I’m actually trying to destroy a relationship by being a bad person, rather than someone leaving me for... I don’t know, being too happy? Caring too much? Talking too much? Just. Shit I have less control over.

I’ve tried putting a cap on it, suppressing everything. Trying not to indulge too much, trying not to be so happy and talkative, straight-up deleting messages I think might be too annoying the second I send them. Trying to be inoffensive through being unnoticeable. I’m trying to do that now, honestly. It’s why I joked about deleting my blog. All it does is hurt and make me go fucking nuts because I’m bottling up a lot in doing that, I know. I’m just not fully convinced I don’t just deserve to feel that way.

There are a lot of points in my life where I’m convinced that my best course of action in succeeding or keeping people from being put-off by me is to just sit down and shut up and draw what I’m told to draw. To just completely lose my agency in drawing. It makes sense, when you feel like you don’t have any good ideas of your own, you just illustrate others’. And there are many, many points where I have done this out of a place of love. Fuck, most of what I’ve drawn for Lolly’s writing has come out of a place of genuine love, not just for her work, but for her. A lot of what I’ve drawn for Bethany (for any REAL long-time followers reading this) has been like that, too. But there are also points where it honestly just feels like my only purpose is to be a tool through which others may visualize their whims. That if I dare inject too much of myself into things, they’ll be permanently ruined. And then there’s the shame I feel in having wanted to impart a piece of myself into a work - a demerit for being too selfish or self-important to deem my whims anywhere near good or important enough to be included.

I have so many ideas. So many opinions and thoughts and feelings and genuine insight that I’ve suppressed or deleted because I either feel like that’s what’s expected of me, or I’m straight-up told that my thoughts and opinions are bad and wrong. Like. Fuck me for having opinions on animated media levels of being shut-down. And you know, I’ve noticed something in the past decade of being an insufferable opinionated prick about things like that - that it’s actually easier for me to enjoy media when I’m allowed to be negative and critical of it. When I am allowed to just share my thoughts. And I don’t mean like, without being disagreed with, I mean like, in an environment where I’m made to feel like I actually can share these thoughts. When I can pinpoint and analyze what I didn’t like or what made me upset, it can be a lot easier for me to then move on and be able to focus on aspects that I genuinely do like. Like, holy fuck, it is SO much easier for me to pick-and-choose aspects of a certain sequel film that I actually like and feel comfortable saying I like than it was for me to do with the original, because I no longer have an incredibly toxic person in my life (or at least, in my life as much).

But that doesn’t mean I haven’t had this kind of experience since then, like. There are STILL things I struggle to move past because I have been made to feel like I just can’t fucking talk about them without being insufferable (sorry if I’m overusing that word - it just feels like the best word the feeling I’m trying to describe) or just straight-up ruining something for someone I care about. Keeping shit like this in does crazy shit to me, for real, and there’s still a large part of me that tells me “Fuck you. Suck it up. None of this shit matters.” Y’know? Because in the grand scheme of things, I know it doesn’t. And then there’s the shame that comes from having cared so much in the first place. It’s a fucking cycle. There’s some shit that’s just irreparable ruined for me because of this and that SUCKS.

I don’t like losing comforts. Fuck, I hate it, really. And I’m not talking about new comforts coming along and catching my attention as an old comfort begins to wane, I’m talking like. Destroying relationships, feeling SO MUCH shame surrounding a comfort media that it’s too difficult to enjoy it no matter how hard I try, or having too hard of a time disassociating a comfort with a horrible event or person. And it’s feeling like at LEAST one of these is starting to happen to me again and Good Gods it’s just. It’s so terrifying.

But who do I tell? When my primary worry is annoying or offending or hurting people? Y’know? I can’t just vent to one single person to this all the time, that isn’t fair. But it gets to a point where my brain tells me “No, you can’t talk to ANYONE about this because that’s rude and wrong and a true friend wouldn’t do that. There’s a reason why you can make any number of concerning posts, messages, private ramblings, whatever, and the people you’re closest to won’t ask you what’s wrong.”

And, yeah, honestly, I do think it’s true that the people I consider my closest friends won’t read this. I actually don’t believe the average person will read this, or at least get this far. I genuinely do just talk too much and it’s a lot for most people to deal with. Otherwise, I talk too little, and probably enter the “you should be able to read my MIND” level of expectations, which, of course, isn’t far. I understand, I swear I do, it just takes some time to come to terms with every time I get wrapped up in my stupid mental stuff. And I also promise that I try to give these people the same kind of response I want, y’know? I try to look out for any worrying behavior and try to offer an ear and help in any way that I can. I don’t think expecting the same in return is fair, I just worry about any of them being like me, and I’m willing to play to that if it’s necessary. I’ll break quiet streaks for that shit, y’know?

Honestly, these stupid quiet streaks are probably more unbearable for me than they are even noticeable for most people. It sucks. I just wish my mind was normal so I A) wouldn’t have these insecurities to begin with, because B) I would never end up exhibiting the behavior to warrant such insecurities.

There’s so much shit I want to talk about, to analyze, or explore, that I want to share with the world, or at least with people I love, that I probably never will because my stupid brain has already decided that all this stupid shit is better kept to myself where it can rot and be forgotten eventually. Which is fine, in the grand scheme of things, I guess, because I functionally have never really been the guy who comes up with ideas (at least, good ideas) I’m just the pencil, the one who I guess makes things visual? I can’t even bring myself to say “I bring the ideas to life” because that’s pretentious and untrue. These ideas are already alive because they come from brilliant minds.

I don’t even think it’s fair for me to call myself a character designer unless the characters are my own. Otherwise, I’m just following the directions of a much more competent conceptualizer (there’s a reason my characters barely have any... well, character). That’s the reason why I removed my unearned credit as the character designer for Ty from Swindle’s description, because I really don’t deserve that kind of credit. It’s why the asks about the designing process of Ty have been left unanswered, because, fuck, what do I even say? “I just did what Lolly told me to do, just like I did with all of Swindle. Please don’t give me that kind of credit, I know I falsely ascribed it to myself earlier, and I want to rectify that”? I guess I could have, actually, now that I’m typing this. But people always get fucking upset with me when I try not to take credit, even when it’s shit that isn’t mine!! So I don’t know what to do!! I don’t know what to fucking do!!! Because I just don’t fucking want to make people upset or unhappy!!!!!!!

I’m sorry, this post is too long and I’ve worked myself up and I’m no longer apathetic. I’m gonna go cry myself to sleep so big win for my complexion, honestly.

Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I guess getting this shit out of my system is probably best to do in a big tumblr post no one will read.

I don’t want anons about this. If I can just ask one thing. Please.

#do n/ot reb/lo/g #rant #vent #long post #probably won't delete tbh #i don't know it's the most competent i've been about weird mind shit for a while now #so maybe it would be best to just leave it

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a-simple-imagine · 4 years

Text

What if we kissed in the Museum Basement?

Synopsis: Y/N and Helena go on a date to the museum but it’s all feeling a little... awkward.

Pairing: Helena Bertinelli x reader

Words: 2k

Helena Bertinelli wasn't someone you expected to share a first date with. You definitely thought she was out of your league. Not to mention that she presented herself in such a way that left you feeling a little insecure. It was through no fault of her own simply a side effect of her being a badass. You lived in different worlds but you'd be lying if you said you weren't infatuated from the moment you saw her. It had taken every ounce of confidence you possessed to ask her out and after a little hesitation, she agreed. Hours were spent planning today; you were just too nervous not to. It wasn't like you planned every detail simply that you had thought about where to go and what to wear. When the day finally came you changed outfits like five times before finally settling on one. Even as you left through the door, you were unsure. Your entire body felt like the havoc of a beehive. Your body filled to the brim with the buzzing off nervous bees. She was already waiting for you when you arrived and when she saw you coming her lips curled into the softest of smiles. You exchange pleasantries before leading the way down the bustling street of Gotham City. Now you were walking a few steps ahead of her; you couldn't figure out if you were purposely walking too fast or she was just walking too slowly. The distance wasn't major; you just weren't side by side.

"Are you okay?" You wonder, glancing in her direction. Helena on a normal day was very different to how she was acting today. She was being painfully quiet and you were beginning to feel a little awkward about it. You had been leading the conversation but it didn't matter what you said, she mostly just smiled and nodded. Occasionally she would breathe out a laugh but that was about as much as you were getting.

"Yeah just a little nervous," Helena admits, she drops her eyes off you. Keeping her head down. "I've never really done anything like this before."

Her voice is so quiet you just about catch what she's saying among the noise around you. You took her nerves as a compliment, it was sweet that someone so confident was so nervous about being out with you. "It's okay to be nervous,"

You reach out slowly to take her hand in yours. You were helping it would help her relax but it was more for you. Her hand felt cold locked with yours. "Is this okay?"

Her eyes fall to your hands before she nods just a little. The corner of your lips fly up into a bright grin as you continue to walk down the street. "If it makes you feel any better, this is the first time in a long time I've been on a date. I feel like I'm gonna throw up but in like, a good way."

"You want to throw up... in a good way?"

You chuckle a little at the confusion in her voice. "I just mean I have like butterflies."

"So we're twelve-year-old girls now," she hummed softly. "Where are we going?"

You ignore the comment because you did, in fact, feel like a giddy twelve-year-old. "Assuming it's okay with you I was thinking we could check out the natural history museum?"

"Oh,"

"We don't have to," you shrug, now doubting all your choices. "we could just go see a movie or something?"

Her head shook as she squeezed your hand a little. "I've never been to the natural history museum,"

"What? Not even as a kid?" You don't mean to sound so surprised, you just assumed that everyone had been. It was a free day out.

"Not really,"

"I've been a few times but I always enjoy it," You express; thinking fondly of your past visits. It was your favourite place to go as a kid. "It's very popular with criminals so let's hope nobody is after any ancient relics today."

You were joking but she seemed to tense at your words. Maybe you shouldn't have mentioned criminals but in all fairness, you weren't wrong. Gotham city was practically known for its high crime rate and the museum was a treasure trove.

The museum was grand in size and located in the lower east side of Gotham. They have all kinds of exhibits from a Hall of Exotic Birds to a botanical garden; there's something here for everyone. You make your way around the museum and Helena hardly says a word to you. Getting anything out of her was like pulling teeth and it was beginning to grow a little tiresome. As you head downstairs into the basement you're transported into a world below the water. While small in size, you always loved this aquarium. Under the calming blue of the aquarium tanks, you stand beside Helena watching the fish swim past so carefree. It was never busy down here but today it was a ghost town. Just you two and the fish. As you spot the small shark swim past your lips curl into a small smile. "I've always liked sharks," Your voice seems extra loud in the silence. "They have a bad rep but were a bigger threat to them than they are us. Shark attacks are rare."

You glance in her direction but Helena doesn't reply causing your smiles to falter. It felt like she was uncomfortable with you; simply waiting for the entire date to be over. Maybe you were talking too much? Had you done something wrong maybe? Leaving her side, you take up a seat on the viewing bench. Helena watched you go, turning sharply when you catch her staring. A heavy sigh leaves your lips. This definitely wasn't how you imagined this date to go; you at least expected more of a conversation. "When I was a kid, whenever I got really upset I would beg my parents to take me here."

Helena joins you on the bench after a moment. You hear her take a deep breath before beginning to speak. "So... did you come here a lot? As a kid?"

"I guess." You shrug a little. "I would spend hours just sitting here watching the fish, I'd even come alone if I had to. It was like my happy place."

"I..." Helena trailed off and when you look to her she's staring at the big tank before the both of you. You always found the sight peaceful. "I- I'm sorry."

"What for?" You ask softly.

"I just I... I don't know how to act around you. This is all so new to me."

"You don't have to apologise for that," Helena always held herself with amazing confidence so it was sort of strange to have her apologies for not knowing how to act. It was also kinda adorable that she found herself so vulnerable and shy when it came to dating. You could relate in a sense. Dating was always rather awkward for you but this time around you had really been trying to make this as enjoyable as possible. "If I'm making you uncomfortable or you want to leave Helena, we can go? I don't want this to feel like too much for you,"

"I like being here with you," Helena finally meets your gaze but she can't hold the contact long. "I just don't know what to say. Every time I think about saying something it seems silly so I don't bother."

"At this point, I would just like to hear you say anything," you tease, hoping it comes across well as you nudge her slightly with your shoulder. "I feel like I've been talking to myself this whole time."

"I'm sorry," Helena wore a soft expression, one that made your heart melt in response; it was such a stark contrast.

"It's okay," You offer up a warm smile, "I just want you to be you. I want you to be comfortable with me and we can go at whatever pace you like,"

"I appreciate that," you watch her hesitantly reach for your hand so you take the lead and grab hers. "I want you to be comfortable with me, too."

"You know how I said I used to come here a lot?" Helena nods. "Well, let's just say that when they finally added that shark there I got to name it."

"What's its name?"

"Sammy,"

"Really? That was the best you could come up with?" She chuckles to herself and it brings a smile to your lips. It seemed like she needed to express her struggle to feel a little more relaxed.

"I was a kid, okay," You protest playfully. "At least I gave it a normal name or it could be swimming around being called sparkles or some shit.

Helena seemed a lot calmer now as you sat there together, her hand still in yours. It was nice to hear her talk about herself and her life. It certainly felt like she wanted to be here. The problem now was how far do you take it? One minute she oozed confidence the next you felt like she didn't want to be with you. An hour or so passes and you're still sat together talking. The odd visitor would join you to look at all the fish but left shortly after.

"Thank you for today, I'm honoured you brought me somewhere so meaningful to you." Helena expresses warmly.

"You're welcome," you give her a smile. "I thought it'd be a nice spot to just talk. Most of my dates are not this chill,"

"Sorry."

"No no, it's a good thing," you assure her quickly. "There's always so much pressure around dates but sometimes all you need is a place you love and some good company. Don't get me wrong I enjoy a dinner date but this was more fun for me- this was more personal."

"I've never dated anyone so I don't really have that experience," she explains. You expect her to continue talking but she doesn't.

"I really like you Helena," you admit, standing up you hold out your hand. "It's no fancy restaurant but if you wanted to grab some food with me this place does have a nice little cafe?"

Hand in yours, you pull her upwards. The girl stumbles into you and a shade of pink floods her cheeks. It's hard to make out in the dim light but you could tell. You meet her curious and innocent eyes and all you want to do is lean in but you don't. You don't want to do something that will make her uncomfortable. You hate that you can't completely sweep her off her feet with a spontaneous kiss but consent was important. "Can I kiss you?" You ask quietly, keeping your eyes on hers. You're a little surprised when she nods. You place a hand delicately against Helena's jaw, thumb dancing softly over her cheek. The other hand rests against her arm, urging her a little closer. "Just follow my lead, okay?"

Your lips meet in the slowest of embraces. You had given her every opportunity to back out before it happened. Helena's lips felt warm and soft. You're a little sad when you pull away. Taking a deep breath before your lips curl into a smile. That small kiss felt like something out of this world but a hint of doubt creeps in when Helena doesn't seem to react. You can't read her expression at all. Maybe you were a bad kisser? Maybe she didn't feel the same way it made you feel? A wave of relief washes over you when the softest of smiles graces her lips and this time it's Helena who leans in first.

#Helena Bertinelli #helena bertinelli x reader #Birds of prey #mary elizabeth winstead #huntress x reader

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demonwriterx · 4 years

Text

Epithet Erased:A show centered around Kindness (and Barriers!)

*teleports behind you*

Epithet Erased was created by Branden Blaber, a guy known around Youtube by the name of JelloApocolypse He is known for his famous comedy sketch series of “This is basically...” where he takes a certain show, video game or social media and makes them into parodies, now he had created an original series called Epithet Erased, escluviely being premiered on VRV and on Youtube!

The summary of Epithet Erased will make anyone new to the series interested enough to check out the episodes.

Epithet Erased is set in the world of Sweet Jazz City, where a lucky few are born with powers attached to their very souls known as “Epithets”. An Epithet stems from a single word attached to a users soul that can grant them any kind of power. Words like “Fire,” “Coupon” or … “Soup”. A magical artifact known as the “Arsene Amulet” is rumored to be able to steal an epithet away from its user, and they say it’s hidden somewhere in the Sweet Jazz Museum. Thieves burst down the doors in the middle of the night! Inscribed warriors do battle in the dark of the abandoned exhibits! Dinosaur bones come toppling to the floor! And a little girl named Molly is trapped in the middle of it all. Will her epithet, “Dumb” be enough to save her? Or will her epithet be… erased?

I stumbled across Epithet Erased a little late to the party with three of the episodes already released on JelloApocolypse’s channel. Even being a subscriber, I never got around to it until I decided to sit down and watch the first episode. But now, I wished I would have seen it sooner because of how much I love Epithet Erased!

Epithet Erased is centered around the world of Epithets where certain people gain epithets, but only around one word. Many Epithet users have very powerful Epithets that they use for battle, protection, healing or even turning things into gold. But one main character, Molly, descibes her epithet as useless and “dumb” because it literally is her Epithet! Her Epithet is “dumb” which means that she can “dumb” down anything into literally nothing or just to negate attacks or special abilities. Epithets can also give people special passive abilities, one example is from Molly herself which she can make a bubble of silence around herself and others, as long as they are in the bubbles’ radius.

Epithet Erased has a unique narration style and animation. Their animation budget is small as it feels more like a motion comic without the speech bubbles, but don’t let sway your opinion of it as the voice cast, art style and storytelling carries the series into comedic satisfaction. The episodic series go through arcs and the first 4 episodes take place in a museum! Where characters fight over the mysterious arsenic amulet which can steal other people’s epithets and gives it to the user.

Epithet Erased also does a top down narration, where the audience is looking down on the characters as the characters are moving around as profile boxes. If I would describe it, it is similar to a DnD board, which I suspect Epithet Erased was inspired from and also known RPG mechanics as most users of epithets run on stamina and creativity.

Let’s introduce some characters and the face of the series, Molly.

Molly is 12 years old, and works in her family’s toy shop! (sometimes all on her own, because her father is worthless garbage...but let’s not get into that now) Molly has issues with her self-esteem which stems from the fact that she has to be the adult in her family since she cannot count on her father and sister. It all stems from the fact that the family fell apart from the death of her mother five years prior, ever since then, Molly has been the one to keep her family going. Molly wears a bear hoodie at all time because it was created by her mother. But even with problems at home, Molly is genueriely nice (and secretly savage, mostly savage....you’ll see). She cares about others, likes to talk to them, and understands what is going on in their point of view. She is struggling to be more assertive, but she is getting there!

Giovanni (one of my favorite characters so far!) is the leader of the Notorious BONZAI BLASTERS! A group of rapscallion and ruffians trying to make a name of themselves, consider them like team rocket from the Pokemon series. Giovanni is trying to be known in the criminal underworld, he has his devoted minions who follow him and express their undying love for him. Giovanni may act tough and jerky, but he is a secretly a giant softie. He cares about his minions and takes care of them. Giovanni can even knit! and crafted his own suit from scratch!

Sylvie is a 15 year old boy, who recently graduated college with a PHD in Psychology, his epithet is “Drowsy”, which means he can put people to sleep and make their nightmares a reality! He can even put himself to sleep and summon his alter ego! A raging bull with a Scottish accent! He is a bit pompous and thinks he knows more than anyone in a room. But he secretly wants to have friends, luckily Molly is there to be his friend! and he has a lot to learn.

Mera is an interesting character, with her epithet literally turning against her! I won’t say anything else because I don’t want to spoil anything else from the first arc and trust me! It will captivate you!

Indus is a big soft teddy bear and body guard of Mera, who he refers to as “lady Mera” which is very sweet. He does everything Mera tells him too, including cooking and doing laundry but he is kinda soft-headed (pretty dumb) think of him as Kronk and Mera as Ezma from Emperor’s new Groove.

But these two, these two right here, are my absolute favorite pair! (because I found myself shipping them, im not sorry) The guy on the left is Ramsey, who appears in ep 6 and 7. His epithet is Goldbricker, which he can turn anything and himself into solid gold. A con man at heart, constantly on the run from a bounty hunter finally finds relief when he becomes partnered with a law abiding officer, Percy.

Percy (right), is one of the top officers in her field. Her epithet is creating small buildings with magical abilities but her stamina is very low, if she makes too much or fights for too long, she can literally pass out and becomes defenseless. She is very direct, strong, serious and little innocent, (especially around Ramsey and his constant innuendos, which is very funny). She doesn’t really respond to his comments and his sarcastic jokes, one of which he says to her “your cop is showing” and she gets very embarrassed and says “oh, I’m sorry” so she take things very literally. These two remind me of Judy and Nick from Zootopia, and I also love the good cop, and criminal partnership trope.

Epithet Erased is an action-packed, comedic masterpiece centered around great narration, voice acting and wonderful characters. The show constant theme being kindness to others and most characters of the series are very nice people just trying to make it in a cruel world. It is heartwarming and very funny! I highly recommend everyone to give it and chance and check it out on VRV and on youtube, I will provide a link to the first episode below. I really want this show to succeed and gain a following of support as not a lot of people know about this show, and I would hate to see it end early! This type of show does not come around every often, it is like a secret prize hidden away and everyone deserves a prize! Epithet Erased is a masterpiece of animation, storytelling and character that is unlike any other!

Please check it out in the link below!

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCP4nS6ag1-E6TzlQvaWfiZg

#epithet erased #molly #giovanni #ramsey #goldbricker #percy #indus #jelloapocalypse #shipping #zootopia #nick #judy #review #youtube #show #animation #dnd #mera #sylvie #great show

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hazzastylesfanfics · 4 years

Text

Part 1/?

i’m back bitches

the maddness & boredom of this pandemic have finally hit so naturally i sat down to write for the first time in seven years .....

tell me if it’s shit/if i should continue !!

k thanks love u all <3

239 days. 239 days since him.

1 day. 1 day since him.

Some days I wonder if fate is real. I wonder if there really is a so-called “god” up there. Maybe there really is a divine power running my life, or maybe it’s all just one big shit show I’m struggling to keep together.

It’s 2 a.m. and I’m still pointlessly scrolling through Instagram looking at the same posts I’ve seen already. I open my profile and scroll through. Pictures of me posing with my friends, at wineries, and drunk nights out fill my feed. There’s no mention of him. I finally brought myself to delete them a few months back. I lock my phone and close my eyes. Sleep soon overtakes me.

The morning arrives far too early for my liking. Charlie is biting my hair, demanding her breakfast. I grab my phone to check the time: 5 a.m. I groan and pull the covers over my head hoping she’ll leave me alone. I just about fall back asleep when I hear a crash.

“Charlie, seriously?!” I sit up to see she’s shoved a candle off of my windowsill onto the ground and shattered it. “I swear to god, I’m gonna release you back into the wild,” I grumble.

She meows at me frantically until I give in and feed her. The thing they don’t tell you about getting a kitten is the fact you no longer run your life, the little spawn from hell does. She’s lucky she’s cute. I quickly sweep up the remains of my candle and fall back into bed.

Two hours later my alarm clock rudely awakens me for work. I feel like I’ve barely slept and one glance in the mirror confirms that feeling. A quick shower wakes me up just enough to drag my ass out the door.

I see my bus pulling away from my stop and frantically run toward it, shouting at the driver to stop. Maybe because it’s pouring rain or maybe because I look so distraught, but the driver takes pity on me and lets me hop on. I thank her as I sit in the nearest open seat. I’ve already been late to work three times in the past month and I can’t let Lana cover for me again.

The bus ride is a short one to the little coffee shop I’ve called work for over a year. It’s locally owned and loved by hipsters all around. I still wonder how I managed to get the job since I barely fit the bill of the “alternative” type that work alongside me. Lana was my first friend there. If you searched “Portland native” online, a picture of her would pop up. She’s adorable and dainty, covered in random tattoos she gets when she’s bored. She just dyed her hair blonde and cut her own blunt bangs. Her nose is decorated with a ring that she drunkenly tried to pierce herself, but I convinced her otherwise. She wears whatever the hell she feels like and exudes confidence in it all. She has the type of personality that draws you in but keeps you just enough at a distance to shroud her in mystery. I love the girl as much as I envy her.

We arrive at my stop and I thank the driver as I exit the bus. It’s still pouring so I run the two blocks to get to work. I see Lana happily chatting to a customer as I walk through the front door to the back room.

“Morning, Grey!” She chirps at me.

I drop my bag where there’s space and wash my hands before heading back out front.

“Jesus, girl, you look like hell,” Lana says as she thrusts a double espresso into my hands. “Rough night?”

“I was stuck with my own thoughts again.” I take a sip. It tastes more bitter than usual. “Also, Charlie decided my candle was much better in multiple pieces on the floor at 5 a.m.”

She laughs. “You still feel good about taking a stray in?”

“She was lonely and needed a home, okay?”

“Sucker,” Lana mumbles before turning her attention to the customer walking up to the front counter.

Thursday mornings always pass by fairly quickly. Customers are buzzing about Friday fast approaching, so most are in a pleasant mood. No amount of espresso can wake me up though. Some days I prefer zoning out and making drinks, especially days like this. Interactions with customers take it out of me. I don’t know how Lana does it so well.

“Erm, yeah, I’ll take a small black coffee, please.”

His voice instantly takes me out of my daydreams. That smooth, slow voice. I glance over at the register to see Lana helping the same guy that had captivated me two days earlier. Those chocolate brown curls look even softer than when I saw him in the bookstore. How the hell was that even possible? I stare for so long the milk I am steaming overflows onto my hand, burning me and eliciting a yelp. Lana and this beautiful man both turn their attention toward me. I laugh it off nervously and mumble something about being clumsy. Lana turns her attention back to the man, but he doesn’t break his gaze from me. He holds eye contact for another brief moment before thanking Lana for his coffee and dropping money into the tip jar. I am frozen in place, well aware that I need to stop staring like a fool.

I often visited Powell’s on my days off. It wasn’t hard to spend hours upon hours among the books, exploring each floor of the store. I rarely bought anything; I mostly came for the experience. I loved the smell of a new book. A thrill always came with picking up a random one and delving into what it had to offer between its two covers.

I was doing just that in the World Religions section when I heard his voice.

“Excuse me.”

My eyes snapped up from the current title intriguing me. There he was, clearly trying to get by me. I had absentmindedly parked myself in the middle of the aisle making it impossible for anyone to pass me. My ears grew hot as I mumbled an apology and took a step back.

He laughed lightly and glanced at the book in my hands. “Buddhism, huh? Let me know when you figure out the secret to enlightenment.” He chuckled again.

This is when I really got a good look at him. He was tall with lanky arms and legs to match, and a torso that looked like it never ended. He was wearing a tight black T-shirt that revealed many, many tattoos decorating his arms. My eyes instantly locked in on an anchor inked on the top of his left wrist. My exploration led me down to his hands, adorned with multiple rings. Finally, I brought my eyes up to his face. My god, did it take my breath away. His jaw was sharp and covered in stubble. His brunette curls sat atop his head in an impossibly perfect way. His smile though. I nearly dropped my book. If I believed in angels, they would have been singing at that moment.

I made a weak attempt at laughing and stumbled over my words, but nothing that resembled English came out of my mouth.

He flashed an even brighter smile and said, “Let me know if you need any recommendations.” And just like that, he turned the corner and disappeared. I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath until my chest started to hurt from the lack of air to my lungs. I bought the book in my hands and hurried out of the store.

He consumed my thoughts well into the night.

Now, as if a gift from the heavens above, this god is standing in my workplace. I suddenly become very aware of my lack of makeup and haphazard bun.

He catches my eyes once more before turning away from the register and walking out the front door. He was gone. I just let this act of god walk out the door and I would never see him again.

“Um, earth to Grey?” Lana playfully pokes me in the ribs.

“Huh, what? Shit.”

“You need me to finish up that cappuccino there?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” I robotically step back from the espresso machine and let her take over. She finishes the drink in less than a minute and apologizes to the visibly impatient customer as she hands it over the bar.

Lana turns to me. “Okay, what the hell was that?”

I stand with my mouth hanging open, still trying to grasp the past five minutes. “Well, long story short I think I royally fucked up letting that guy walk out the door.”

“You’re telling me, babe, he was gorgeous. Do you know him?” I detect a hint of jealously in her voice.

“No, uh, not really. We had a short interaction at Powell’s a couple of days ago but it was nothing. I made a fool out of myself more than anything.”

“And how do you think you did this time around?” Her laugh rings in my ears.

“Okay, in my defense he ambushed me at my workplace so that is not my fault!” I huff. “You weren’t much help either,” I point out.

“What was I supposed to do?” She is still laughing.

“I don’t know,” I mumble. “He was staring too though, right? That wasn’t my own delusion?”

“Oh yeah, babe he was staring alright. He looked like he wanted to take you right then and there on the counter.”

I bite my lip. That didn’t sound like half a bad idea. My ears grow hot at the thought.

I feel a gentle pinch on my arm and flinch away. “Hello! Grey! Hate to interrupt your fantasy but we have customers.” I glance over her shoulder to see a small line has built up.

Three o’clock finally rolls around and I’m free. Lana had gotten off an hour earlier than me, but couldn’t stay to talk more. My thoughts are too preoccupied with that handsome stranger to be much company anyway. The manic side of me wants to walk straight to Powell’s in hopes he would be there. I get ahold of myself however and make my way back to my apartment.

Charlie greets me with vigor the second I walk through the door. She seems to have gotten this idea that whenever I come home means dinnertime for her. When I don’t give in, she destroys shit. Exhibit A: this morning. It’s not like she’s starving. My neighbor had discovered this little kitty outside of the apartment complex one morning while taking her dog for a walk. The landlord only allows one animal per apartment, so she couldn’t keep her. At the time, Charlie practically sprouted angel wings and a halo so I couldn’t say no. A week into having her revealed her true nature: demon. She’s into everything all. of. the. time. She frequently digs the dirt out of my houseplants and eats it. Her favorite game is launching herself onto the screens in my windows to attack bugs. She even tries to shower with me. Despite her faults though, I can’t help but love her. Living by myself can be lonely. I find myself trying to have full conversations with her sometimes shortly before questioning my sanity.

I change into an oversized band tee and settle onto the brown leather sofa in my living room. Charlie jumps up beside me, purring loudly. I pull the yellow blanket neatly folded next to me onto my lap and try to shut my brain off. The rest of my shift exhausted me and thinking about that guy did not help much. I have to accept the fact that fate was really doing me a solid and in return, I gave it the finger. This beautiful stranger entered my life twice in 48 hours and I didn’t do a damn thing about it. Charlie climbs into my lap and curls into a ball, content.

I wake up hours later to a dark apartment. One glance at my phone reveals I dozed off longer than I intended to. Miraculously, Charlie let me sleep through her dinner. The moment she notices I am awake, she starts yowling at me for dinner. I oblige with a small scoop of food in her bowl. I then venture to the fridge and heat up leftover pasta for my meal. I sit at the small table in my narrow kitchen and stare out the window. My view isn’t much - just a look onto my neighbors’ balconies who also live in this complex. I make a mental note that the plants on the windowsill need water. I rinse out my bowl and leave it in the sink, not bothered to do the dishes tonight. I’m exhausted and welcome the softness of my bed.

I open the next morning and it feels like actual hell when my alarm goes off at 4:30. Charlie loves days I’m up this early though, she gets an early breakfast. I don’t bother to change out of the band tee I slept in and pull on a pair of ripped denim shorts. True to Oregon’s style, today is supposed to be a direct contrast of the previous day: blue skies and sunny. Summers in Portland never fail to keep me on my toes. I quickly fix my hair into messy French braid pigtails on either side of my head and throw on a coat of mascara for good measure.

I never have an issue with opening during the summer. The sun has risen enough that there is a soft morning light to guide me on my walk to the bus stop. Winters freak out because it’s pitch black and weird people ride the bus this early in the morning.

The shop is dark when I arrive. I turn my key in the lock, step in, and lock it behind me. The one time I forgot to do this, a homeless person wandered in and refused to leave. He didn’t want anything, just continued to have a conversation with himself. I always make sure to double-check the door now. I turn on the lights and flip on the espresso machine. I set up the freshly baked pastries in the front case in an attractive manner. Just as I open the register to count the till I hear a tap on the front door. I don’t look up. It’s either a customer trying to come in early or another homeless person. I quietly count each bill out loud, enter the opening total, and tap “open” on the screen. Again, I hear a knock on the door. I look up in irritation. Whoever thinks they need their coffee this early in the morning can wait another 15 minutes until I formally open the doors.

Fuck.

Shit.

Fuck.

It’s him.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic #one direction fic #one direction imagine #harry styles #harry

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sasskarian · 4 years

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I know you're not exactly a DA blog anymore... But... I just finished DA2 for the very first time and, and. I got myself Inquisition with all DLCs. I need to know what happens. I want the poor baby Cullen to be happy :(

Nonnie, I am still at my heart very much a DA blog (and Mass Effect; I just tend to smear new obsessions everywhere. Like finger painting). I curate my experience as much as I can due to the fandom being shit, but my love for DA is strong and steady.

The best thing I can say is, play through the game and DLCs. (Tho suggested order is Jaws > Descent > Trespasser) I promise you, Cullen has the option of being happy. I wouldn’t write about it if I didn’t see those paths, and at least some of them are canon.

I know what you mean, tho. Cullen is, to some of my friends’ dismay, near and dear to my heart. He’s my canon quiz’s romance, for many reasons. The truth is, I struggle with the fandoms’ interpretations of him and was just talking about this with my DA/FO/ME bestie @asaara-writes the other day. I think a lot of Cullen’s trauma is easily missed or overlooked in favor of louder plots (like Fenris’s, who doesn’t get hated on nearly so much for his hatred and distrust of mages, or Anders who hates Templars and is lauded for it. If I see another ANDERS WAS RIGHT banner, I’m gonna overclock somebody’s capacitors)

(Pardon me, I’ll throw this under a cut because wall of text, but I have some got-damn Opinions on Cullen and how the fandom treats him)

But for me, I’m neither in the “Cullen is poor bab who never did anything wrong uwu” or the “Cullen is a horrible bastard and should be set afire” camp. I walk a more moderate line, and here’s why:

I have a Cullen.

My fiance, he’s... so much like Cullen that it breaks my heart. Military vet, disillusioned with his desire to do good in the world and the realities of corruption and power abuse. Substance abuse issues, and recovery from addiction. Said some bad things/had bad opinions when he was younger due to abuse by certain groups of people, and has since reformed and is trying to continue changing. Abuse survivor. Blood on his hands from his career. Trying his best to find his way in a world that he doesn’t understand. So I see the similarities, and I live with the reality of what that kind of history and life is like.

Cullen was a fresh-faced 18 year old in the Kinloch Circle (however old his in-game image looks, he was canon 18-20). Which, by canon, was one of the less problematic, more lenient Circles (though you have to have Mage origin to find that stuff out). I don’t think he’d been a Templar long at that point. And he joined the Templars out of a desire to do good in the world. His examples of Templar behavior were those stationed in a small village, who had more leniency and less lawkeeping duties. Honnleath was tiny, and quiet. I’m going on assumption here, on my own history of small towns vs larger cities, that there wasn’t much evidence of power hunger and abuse an eight year old would notice.

Note that he remains kind and even remorseful at some of his duties (for instance, having to attend Harrowings) even under a hateful man like Greagoir.

When Uldred takes over the Circle and kills everyone, Cullen is the last left. He watches possessed mages and demons run wild in his home, killing and torturing his friends. If you’re a mage origin, he talks about how the demons used his feelings and affection for you, inappropriate though they were, to torment him. It’s implied through dialogue that at least some of those demons sexually abused him.

Yes, in his panic and fresh trauma, he begs the Warden to kill any mages found left in the Circle. I wonder why. Tumblr at large acts like the only way for PTSD and trauma to be exhibited is through cowering and nightmares, but it’s well known among people who have PTSD (including myself) that outrage, hair trigger tempers, and anger issues are as common as crying jags and insomnia.

After the resolution of Broken Circle, Cullen is reassigned to Kirkwall. Arguably, this is the worst possible Circle he could have been sent to in the entirety of the goddamn world. Not only is Kirkwall famous for increased blood mage activity (both due to history and also due to Templar behavior), which is one of his trauma-groups, but Meredith hates mages, and rules over them with an iron fist. She is fucking crazy, and whether her past makes her a sympathetic villain or not (ymmv), she downright encouraged the abuse of mages and as she loses her mind, we see her start accusing everyone of blood magic.

Canon states that there are Templars in Kirkwall who sexually abuse mages, who torture them, and who kill them at will, and these are never dealt with. Meredith has no desire to change the way the Gallows is run, and it’s said or implied that before her reign as the overseer, the Gallows-- while still not great-- was not this bad.

So, freshly traumatized and young Templar is sent to the worst possible place in Thedas, under the command of a crazed mage hater, surrounded by the very thing that will trigger him nigh constantly. I see a lot of the fandom say “well why didn’t he quit/leave?” And I wonder if those fans understand what indoctrination can do. Specifically, military indoctrination. You’re told that the ranks are your home, your family, the only ones who can or will ever understand you. You’re told this for so long that it becomes a life raft. It becomes your world truth. That’s the nature of emotional abuse that fosters codependency: it literally reshapes your world.

Added to that, Templars are controlled by the Chantry through lyrium, an addictive drug that quitting is difficult and surviving the withdrawal of is often fatal. (that’s another rant entirely that can be summed up as tl;dr fuck the fucking Chantry)

The Templars were the only thing he knew. After that kind of soul-shaking trauma, do you leave behind everything you ever knew? (Remember, he was 13 when he joined into this kind of brainwashing.) No. You cleave to what you can, to what keeps you getting through the day.

Cullen spent a further ten years in Kirkwall, watching the city fall apart under Qunari, blood magic, and Meredith’s increasing insanity. There was no reprieve for his PTSD: everywhere he turned, there was Something. And yet, we hear in Inquisition (depending on player choices, ofc) Samson say that Cullen tried to continue to be kind. He didn’t abuse mages, he tried to protect them where and how he could.

[Samson: He arrived after the trouble at the ferelden circle. Cullen jumped at his shadow in those days, always on the watch for abominations and demons. Did right by the mages, though, never played rough with them. Not like Meredith.]

Was it limited? Yes. Was it hampered by circumstance? Yes. Should he have tried harder? Yes.

But he still tried.

Does he say regrettable things? Yes. Does he regret those things later? Yes.

I had a friend, who I am no longer friends with for various reasons, tell me that “If Cullen was a good person, he wouldn’t need a redemption arc.” And... no, No, that’s not how redemption arcs work. Everyone does problematic things. Everyone who grows up brainwashed has to unlearn shit, and atone for shit.

Cullen still struggles with mages. He still has a deep fear of them. Partly this is the Templar in him talking, partly this is trauma. And, here’s where we break from canon and go deep into psychology land: I think partly because he’s projecting. Cullen cannot imagine forgiveness for what he’s done. I wonder if part of him fears mages because he expects-- perhaps even some part of him desires-- retribution from them for his actions and past.

And there’s things that have been retconned or that were misleading in previous games. For example, the rumor that Cullen escaped after Broken Circle and went on a mage murdering spree. That was nothing but a rumor, but the fandom levies it against him as if it happened.

But if Cullen “hated” mages, you wouldn’t be able to romance him as a mage. And honestly, that mage romance in DAI? Is one of the sweetest, most tender things I’ve seen in DA. As a mage, you can choose to help him past his fears, help him with his lyrium addiction. Help him grow as a person, and watch as he becomes a better person. As he learns that mages are more than their magic, and that Templars are so often wrong and awful in their treatment of them.

I find Cullen to be well written. And believable as hell. The portrayal of him-- from the mood swings, to the trauma, to the shaky but steadying growth-- feels real, and I can back that up with my fiance’s own similar path.

So. To wrap up because hoooooo, Opinions, play through the game. There’s a lot of gems there. <3

#cullen rutherford #fandom critical #dragon age #anti-cullen #cullen critical #i have a lot of Opinions on this #also no i'm not taking opinions on this #my real life experience applied to fandom is more important to me than being yelled at for liking a character i find relatable af #Anonymous #food for thought #food for thot

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mego42 · 4 years

Text

1x07 Discussion Questions

My b! My b! I usually try to do these when the episode is fresh but instead I went to sleep, I am at peace with my priorities, tbh. As always, many thanks to @pynkhues for her time and energy putting these together and shout out to @foxmagpie for the assist.

1. What was your favourite scene of the episode? Tell us why!

Lot of contenders, tbh. I really love the scene with Mary Pat when she puts together the (extremely transparent) bullshit that is the whole secret shopper scheme (I mean come on y’all, did you even try????), I love Ruby and Stan’s date (high five to Stan for coming through with my parks & rec reference, it’s nice to know there is one (1) man I can count on). The Annie and Greg bit is REALLY SWEET LEAVE ME ALONE. The god tier brio content, specifically The Grab Heard Round The World My Living Room and the Give Me A Name bit. Some classic Rio nonsense (do you think if we asked him to point to an egg he’d point to an apple?) Tyler and his “reeeeeeally fill out the surveys?” was, obvs, the best moment on the entire show. Anyway, one of those for sure.

2. Was there any scene that missed the mark for you? And if so, how?

The Boomer setting up Annie stuff always falls flat to me and idk exactly why? Like, individual pieces of it are great, Mae does EXCELLENT work post police station and when getting arrested in the first place but ultimately I find it fairly forgettable in the grand scheme of things.

3. Let’s talk about the secret shopper scheme! What do you think were the strengths of it? The flaws? Do you think it had longterm potential? Or was it always going to crash and burn?

I said this during the rewatch but I straight up blocked out the fact that all of the shoppers are hitting the same store on the same day (waving around upwards of $5k in cash???? no less???????) because my brain cannot comprehend how three women we’re supposed to believe are reasonably intelligent didn’t realize this was the stupidest, most transparently obvious, most short-sighted scheme in the entire world.

I struggled with the sustainability of it a bit when I thought they were spreading their efforts around (they roped in A Lot of people, there are only so many Costcos in the Detroit metro area and waving around that much cash and then returning it all, again for cash, is uh, already p memorable) but I could deal with it when I thought they were spreading it around. Short-sighted, immediate solutions are a cornerstone of Beth’s brand, after all, but all of them at the same store at the same day???? Too much. I cannot.

4. The girls spent their money in very different ways! Ruby on romancing Stan, Annie on clothes for her son, and Beth on jewellery for herself. What do you think this tells us about them and their arcs? Particularly coming off the back of Ruby’s conflict with Stan, Ben’s issues at school with clothes, and Beth leaving Rio her pearls?

Love these connects. The show’s got a pretty clearly defined and consistent visual/character motifs (this may or may not be the word I’m looking for, shut up) when it comes to depicting the girls priorities and motivations. You also see it reflected and reinforced with their repeated coping mechanisms throughout the show. Whenever bad stuff happens, Ruby goes home to Stan, Annie crawls into bed with Ben and we usually close with Beth either alone (ouch david) or connecting with Rio in some way (exhibit a: the aforementioned pearls).

In all of the instances it comes back to the heart of their priorities:

Stan is Ruby’s number one, (which isn’t to say her kids aren’t a part of that, I think Stan is both himself in this sense while also representing her whole Hill family unit—TV is all about visual shorthand kids—but also it serves to illustrate that Ruby has something Beth and Annie do not: a true partner).

Ben is at the root of everything Annie does, she makes choices based on not only his. well-being, but how he sees her and he has the most influence over how she sees herself and what actions she takes as a result of that.

Beth, on the other hand, is at a contrasting point. She’s done the devoted partner and mother thing (lowkey implied by the little bits and pieces we get of her and Annie’s childhoods to some degree more or less for her entire life) and is now putting herself first, her needs, her wants. Which isn’t to say she doesn’t give a fuck about her family, she waits until she’s got a fat stack of cash and they’re taken care of before splurging on a thing, but as a symbol I think the necklace pretty clearly illuminates that for whatever Beth tells herself, she’s building an empire for herself, bc she wants it, needing it is secondary.

5. Eddie’s arrest is arguably what sets us on a collision course with the finale! Do you think Eddie was loyal to Rio until the end? How much do you think he told Turner? And what sort of loyalty do you think Rio inspires in his boys? And why doesn’t it translate with the girls?

OF COURSE EDDIE WAS LOYAL TO THE END HE HAS CLEARLY DEMONSTRATED HE HAS SOME KIND OF CODE OF HONOR HOW DARE YOU SLANDER MY BOY LIKE THAT.

Tbh idk how to answer the loyalty question without more information from canon because the gang and how they operate, how they all came together, etc is pretty well shrouded in not-central-narrative-focus, though I think it’s been implied somewhat heavily that what’s going on with the girls is not standard operating procedure.

My personal headcanon for Eddie is tied up in my personal backstory for Rio and Mick that I started for my (lmao first) Mick POV fic. I gave Rio and Mick a friends since we were kids backstory and decided Eddie was a kid in their neighborhood, slightly younger then them, and always looked up to them/followed them around/thought they were cool. He ultimately got involved in crime because they did and they looked out for him and brought him up with them (which, you know, makes how it all turns out that much more tragic). Obvs, this is all just me and my tendency to imprint on random side characters and give them backstories. Let me live.

6. This episode introduces us to Mary Pat, who’s probably one of this show’s most complicated antagonists! What do you think of her generally? And could you have predicted her arc with Boomer and Turner?

I love her and I’m done lying to myself about it.

LISTEN, first off, Allison Tolman is great. Her line delivery is fantastic, she has a knack for subtly adding SO MUCH to every scene she’s in and uses her face and inflection and pauses exquisitely. Top notch comedic timing. Truly a gem.

Second, on a character level, the lady is in a bad spot and the girls basically gift-wrapped the circumstances and handed them to her like here is a present!!!!!!!!!!!! What was a struggling girl to do besides accept what was offered to her??????!!!!!!???

7. This episode features a very pivotal scene in terms of the Beth, Ruby and Annie dynamic. What starts as tension between Annie and Beth quickly pivots when Ruby criticises Beth and Annie leaps to her sister’s defence. What do you think this tells us about the dynamic between the girls as pairs and as a trio?

I am so!!!! curious!!!!!!! about the backstory that exists in the writers’ heads for Ruby and Annie (all three of them, really, but the bff and little sister having an independent friendship is of particular interest to me bc it isn’t something you, or I guess I, run into a lot) and how much of it was defined at this point vs how much it’s evolved/fluctuated as the show goes on. This fight pretty clearly illuminated that when it really comes down to it, it’s Beth and Annie vs Ruby which a) breaks my heart and b) isn’t totally a dynamic I think the show ultimately stuck with? Or maybe intentionally fluctuates? Idk this is a half-baked thought. Ask again later.

8. Greg is the one who kisses Annie! Who do you think left who in that relationship, and/or what were the biggest issues in that relationship?

I feel like there’s pretty much no way Annie wasn’t the one that called things off with Greg. Not just because of how it plays out this time but because he’s got a kind of persistent yet also go with the flow attitude that makes me think he would absorb a lot in the name of making it work whereas Annie seems to have a pretty established history of cutting her losses and bailing when she hits her limit. Based on how fond they are of each other and how much affection they clearly still hold, I tend to assume they just grew apart as they grew up which makes it almost more complicated and tragic because it leaves all of the good stuff and just mixes it with the knowledge that it wasn’t enough.

9. What did you think of Ruby’s sauce story? And what do you think it meant as a turning point for her arc?

I HATE THIS STORY SO MUCH USED BAND AIDS ARE GROSS ENOUGH ON THEIR OWN WITHOUT MIXING IN FOOD SERVICE AND MONTHS, MONTHS, OF MARINATION. I REFUSE TO TALK ABOUT IT. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE.

10. Knowing that Beth, Ruby and Annie’s system of paying Mary Pat off doesn’t work, do you think there was a way they could’ve handled her on their own that would’ve worked? Or do you think Rio’s intimidation (and potential murder) tactic was the only way out?

Idk maybe I’m just cynical, but I take trust no bitch to heart, they pretty well screwed themselves into a corner by being idiots.

#rewatching this ep taught me a lot about my feelings on the secret shopper scheme #gg rewatch #gg 1x07 #gg related #shut up meg

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