#and ironically I will probably feel wistful about these days
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When I'm just about to relax and take my first sip of coffee for the day but hear an ominous crash from the other room.
#spop#shera#she ra#memes#parenting#parenting memes#funny#someday I will get to drink a cup of coffee in peace#and ironically I will probably feel wistful about these days#meme#humor#lol#pet owners
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Ⳑσσƙട ɬιƙҽ 𝜏ԋҽ Լᥙട𝜏 Ꭱιɳց ιട ᥙρ ɳҽχ𝜏 ~ 💋💖
–> So this was honestly a bit tricky at first as, originally, and as much as I criticize her other works within Helluva Boss, I thought Vivzie's overall portrayal of the Lust Ring was pretty on point as it exhibited an environment similar to what I would expect to see in a Red Light District. Then I started the think more about practicality, other-worldly originality, and the fact we only really see Lust at night and have no idea what it's like in the day, so, in the end, this is what I've got...
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Lust's Environment:
♥︎♡ Now, while the whole neon light/Red Light District aesthetic Viv was going for is all well and good, I think that it's also both impractical and kinda boring as A) There's no way the lights would look good in the daytime (especially considering we only see Lust at night) and B) It's kinda boring considering we see this exact thing within the Pride Ring.
♡♥︎ On top of that, I'm not a fan of the whole blue/dark blue thing for the ring, or for Asmodeus in general.
♡♥︎ I mean, yeah, it looks good within the club, but outside of it, it just doesn't suit the lustful prince at all or his citizens as they don't coincide with each other at all.
♥︎♡ Because of this, I wanted to distinguish the ring and it's environment from other places in Hell, so I headcanon that Lust's hues would be pink, hot pink, fuschia, light purple, a hint of red, and white (day) and black (night). Overall, the environment would have a dual nature to it depending on day or night, which I'll explain more in a little bit. The color pallete and general environmental feel of Lust would be similar to that of Spring Broken's.
♥︎♡ Moreover, similar to the canon Sloth Ring, the whole ring would have a wistful cloudy environment, kinda like non-stop aphrodisiacs pumping into the atmosphere, combined with lovecore vibe that frequently toes the line between cutesy and outright raunchy.
♡♥︎ Of course, the whole place will have a general heart motif in skies, the buildings, most of the flora and fauna, the fashion, and especially the people. Because of this, I think Lust would, ironically, give off a sort of faux innocence/Heaven-like vibe as it looks wholesome at first glance but is, in fact, anything but.
♥︎♡ This, of course, brings me to the duality vibe I mentioned earlier. During the daytime, the Lust Ring is arguably a more tame in its hypersexual themes (though admittedly not by much) as, while it's still openly lewd, it's more casual and common since it is the norm for those living there. Also because of the fact that, despite it being Hell, people still have shit to do and can't always spend their time focusing on sex acts (on less, of course, it's their job).
♥︎♡ Also, At night, though, this is where the Red Lights District aspect comes into play. The light pink aphrodisiac environment becomes more bold and vibrant, transforming into hues of hot pink and red that just tempt you and lure you in. The suggestive neon signs begin to shine bright and, overall, everyone is a lot more insatiablly freaky.
♡♥︎ In terms of any thematic layouts in the buildings and the properties themselves, I headcanon that any residential building will likely just be heart-shaped while actual businesses, food centers, whatever, will be some sort of sex-based shape, probably phallic more often than not, if we're being honest here.
♥︎♡ In short, I like to think of the ring as one big 'ol giant sex pun reminiscent of those frequently seen in Panty & Stocking (hense the people's behaviors). Hell, even the most mundane things like restrooms, coffee shops, and even plants will relate to something sexual in some way, because there, that's just normal. 🤷🏾♀️
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Lust's Residents:
• Hellborns: Succubi, Incubi, and Satyrs (Ancient Greek Horndogs)
–> Indentification: Vibrant skin tones (Hot Pink, Fuschia, Pinkish-red all w/ Black highlights); Frequent heart-shaped markings on wings, horns, and bodies; heart-shaped tails, Lust-related abilities [See Abilities]
• Sinners: Any one else who doesn't look like the aforementioned Hellborns, but have a similar heart motif w/ lighter skin tone & white pattern
• (Hellborn) Abilites: Aphrodisiacs, Life-draining of others through sexual acts, shape-shifting, etc.
♡♥︎ Caste System: There is none. Well, no definitive caste system, anyway, though the people here do generally frown upon those who value commitment and romantic relationships as they see it as a waste of time and a boring inconvenience.
♥︎♡ Outside of the Lust Ring, while not as low as an imp or shark, the natives don't really get a lot of respect from others, especially from sinners due to being "easy sluts" in their eyes. Unless they have a substantial amount of wealth, are entertainers (i.e. Verosika), or are connected with royals or overlords in some personal way via concubine, business association, friendship, relationship (rare), then the status quo often won't change.
♡♥︎ Lifestyle: Since sex is easily the norme here, it's incorporated in everything from clothes, to food, to even the people's language in casual innuendos, so much so that they don't even realize it they're doing it nor do they care. The same can be said for hellborn children too, though (thankfully) they're far too young to understand it as "sexual" so much as "normal". The understanding steadily becomes more apparent the older they get, but they're not strongly affected by this.
♥︎♡ Also, going back to the "life-force draining ability", draining a soul via succubus sex, is one of the (many) ways sinners can physically wither away in Hell, toeing the horrific line between afterlife and true death. They become a literal blackened husk of their former souls, unable to feel the sweet release of death, exterminated or otherwise, and unable to quit their vices until then.
♡♥︎ Hellborn demons have more of a resilience to the "Sexy Soul-Sucking" method, as we'll call it, but if they go too hard they, unlike a sinner, will eventually succumb to a semi-quick death. The natives here generally go for Sinners when hungry, though, as they have sinful souls that are long-lasting and, thus, have more to offer.
♥︎♡ Now, you'd think that would ease some of the tension off the overpopulation issue if not for the fact that those who feed often tend to get pregnant immediately after, and healthcare in Hell is both near impossible and (as you'll see in the future) dangerous.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
《This procreation is possible in the event that a hellborn possesses a womb for the sinner's essence to procreate, but not the other way around, btw.》☝️🤓
•°○°•
Cast your votes, please! 😊
#helluva boss critical#vivziepop critical#helluva boss critique#helluva boss criticism#hazbin hotel critical#hazbin hotel#helluva boss#hazbin hotel critique#helluva critical#helluva boss rewrite#Skye Blue's 7 Sins
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{prompt}
after peeta teases her katniss wants to prove she’s not pure. but she quickly finds herself in over her head
It's the middle of the night, and I have no idea what I’m thinking as I beat my knuckles viciously against the door to Peeta's bedroom. This will probably wake up everyone in the entire penthouse, but I just couldn't lie there in that ridiculously huge and fluffy bed staring at the ceiling replaying Peeta's words over and over again.
“It’s you Katniss, can’t you see?”
“They’re playing with you because you’re so … you know.”
“It's like when you wouldn’t look at me naked in the arena even though I was half dead. You’re so … pure.”
Pure.
There’s that word again. It's been paying on a loop ever since he said it. Mocking me. And his eyes, as he said it, the look on his face was just—
The idea really is laughable. Because after all I’ve done, every single vicious, violent, and hateful thing that can never be erased, it's ironic that people would think there’s any part of me left untainted. That Peeta of all people should find this notion both amusing and look on it with wistful affection.
Anger rising steadily, I knock louder until I hear the telltale shuffle of Peeta struggling out of bed and scrambling to the door. I feel guilty for half a minute while I wait, knowing I’ve probably forced him to reattach his prosthetic after he had taken it off for the night. But then I remember his infuriating grin as he chatted with Johanna nonchalantly while her breasts jiggled slightly as she laughed at some witty remark he made about the Quell driving up the price of all his paintings.
He throws it open hurriedly, and stares down at me with a perplexed and sleepy expression.
“Katniss?” His voice is concerned, his blue eyes becoming more alert with each passing second.
I ignore his inquiring tone and shove my way past him into his room, before spinning and facing him, hand braced on my hips, fists clenched, my heart already going a hundred miles an hour in anticipation for this fight.
Because it is going to be a fight, that I already know. If I only have a few precious days to live, and I’m planning on sacrificing myself for this boy—no, this man—in front of me, then I’m not going to hold anything back. I’m going to get this anger, this fury off my chest before I take it out on him while we’re in the arena with the eyes of all of Panem on us, expecting us to be the perfect tragic couple in love again.
Still, as the silence stretches between us I find myself at a loss for how to even start, how to begin saying all the things I really need to say at this moment.
“The door was unlocked, you know.” He informs me quietly.
I blink at him, momentarily caught off guard by his soft voice and his rumpled looking t-shirt and his adorably messy hair that sticks up in all directions because he’s probably been pulling at it, because he does that when he’s anxious and can’t sleep. He probably had a hard time falling asleep without me, just as much as I did without him and now here I am interrupting more precious sleep but-no I can’t think of that.
Peeta made this bed by choosing to join in with the other victors and laugh at me. We’re supposed to be partners. We’re supposed to be friends! At the very least!
“I don’t care about the stupid door! I want you to take it back!” I all but yell at him.
He looks puzzled for a moment, truly perplexed. So I cross my arms and glare at him, fixing him with a look, willing him to remember.
It takes him a beat, but then realization dawns over his features.
“Jeez, Katniss, is that what this is about? That I called you pure?” He asks, raking a tired hand across his face.
In response I simply scown harder at him.
Peeta looks at me like I’m crazy, like I’ve finally completely lost it. Maybe I have. All I know is that after everything I’ve been through in the last 48 hours, enduring a second reaping, not getting to tell my family goodbye, getting accosted and practically propositioned by several other tributes, and finally the sting of Peeta’s betrayal, inconsequential though it may be in the grand scheme of things, I think I’m allowed to go a little crazy.
I think I’m allowed to be a little angry. And I think I deserve Peeta’s apology. And maybe … a conciliatory snuggle.
But instead of doing what I expect him to do, apologize profusely for upsetting me, Peeta, who has been swinging hot and cold for the last few months, does the opposite.
He squares his jaw and looks me right in the eyes and says, “No.”
“No?” I repeat, dumbstruck.
Peeta narrows his eyes and nods his head.
“Yeah, no. I’m not going to take it back.”
“What?” I gasp.
Peeta gives me an annoyed, and slightly exasperated look.
“I said, I’m not taking it back. So you can either continue throwing your little fit, or you can accept it.” He says carefully, almost cooly.
This enrages me. It also baffles me, and for a second the confusion wins out.
“Why not?” I ask.
Peeta gives me a long suffering look, that is mixed with something else as he takes in my disheveled appearance.
“Katniss, it's late, and I don’t really want to get into this right now.” He says with a sigh as he turns away from me, giving me his back and heading toward his bed.
“I do want to get into it!” I hiss at him through clenched teeth, as I stalk forward, my anger tipping the scales again.
The dangerous tone in my voice stops him. He turns around and gives me an evaluating look.
Then without saying another word, he reaches behind his head and grasps the material of his cotton sleepshirt and pulls it off slowly, his intense blue gaze only breaking from mine for the second or so when the shirt obscures his face.
I’m momentarily stunned by the sight of the naked expanse of his broad and muscular chest. But then Peeta’s hands reach out and grip the waistband of his sleep pants and proceed to tug them down.
This breaks me out of my stupor.
W-what are you d-doing?” I sputter.
“Proving my point.” Peeta says as his pants fall and pool around his feet and he steps out of them, and closer to me. He continues to move closer to me, until I’m almost backed against his door.
When his hands reach for the top of his boxer shorts I let out an audible squeak, at the same time my hands move to close over his fingers, stopping their movements.
His eyes are dark, his voice is low, and I can feel the soft puff of warmth on my face from his still minty-clean, toothpaste scented breath as he speaks.
“See?” He intones huskily, in a way that reverberates up my spine with every syllable. His large hands untangle from mine and one reaches out to cup my cheek in that impossibly gentle manner of his.
“You’re so pure Katniss. You won’t even let me strip past my underwear. You could have just stood there and watched, but you didn’t, despite your infuriating need to be right all the time.” He says with a laugh, that’s edged with sadness. His eyes, which moments ago had been heavy-lidded with heat and desire close for a second.
I stare back at him, eyes wide, while my brain and mouth flounder simultaneously, both incapable of forming any outward response.
Peeta sighs again, his thumb caresses my cheek softly before his hand falls away and he moves to extract himself from this semi-embrace we’ve found ourselves in.
My hands, with dangerous ideas of their own, reach out and catch on him. One on the thick, muscled weight of his forearm and the other on the waistband of his shorts, fingers dipping past the edge and hooking inside, knuckles brushing against the warm flesh underneath and the blond hairs I remember from bathing him by the stream while my face burned with embarrassment while the entire country looked on in rapt fascination I’m sure.
“Wait,” I whisper, unsure what I am even doing or where exactly I am going with this.
Peeta as well, seems at a loss for what to do or say, and for one he is just completely quiet, waiting on me, hands suspended close to my hips like he doesn’t know whether to push me away or pull me closer.
I feel so far from that skittish girl from a year ago, who knew so little about boys and kissing and the warmth that comes from being wrapped up in a pair of strong arms. I am now familiarly aquainted with the very same arms that have been my refuge time and time again. That will be my refuge until the very end, until my dying day.
Surely, if I can work up the courage to face these new tributes, this new arena, and all of Snow’s plans to kill me, I can work up enough courage for this.
“Let me,” I say, voice steadier than I would have thought possible, as my hands resume their motions and pull…..
#ask answered#lemonluvwrites#everlark prompts#CANON DIVERGENCE#catching fire#pure#implied smut#hope you like it
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11/8/23: It was 50 years ago this month, November 1973, Hall & Oates would release their second album Abandoned Luncheonette. I've heard a couple tracks from their first record, Whole Oats, but not impressed enough to review. This record's a bit different as they have roped in their various styles into a (mostly) blue-eyed Philly Soul sound that would mark most of their late 70s pop hits. The biggest song here is the A.M. classic 'She's Gone'... it failed initially as a single but later when H&O had success with 'Sarah Smile' they re-released it in 1976 and became at top 10 hit. It deserves it too... excellent wistful and emotional song about lost love and regrets. It has a very urban sound too, which really works when you're walking around a big city (a great listen on The Drive when walking around Chicago). The other song on this record that I like equally as much is the title track. Spotify indicates that this song is one of the lesser tunes listened to on the record, and that's a shame because it's a really cool song. Yeah, the lyrics are kinda banal, trying to be deep, but what makes the song is the chorus... vastly different than the slow, quieter verses, the 'month to month, day to day, year to year' part of the chorus is damn near majestic, with fake strings (I thought it might be Paul Buckmaster) played on a mellotron... goosebumps, man! The rest of the songs on this record are okay, nothing offensive... it is interesting how much Oates does lead vocals on almost half of the songs, my favorite being 'I'm Just a Kid (Don't Make Me Feel Like a Man)'; later, on the big hits it seems, Oates is only the harmony to Hall's lead. Since I won't get to it with this blog (or at least the 50 years part) note that H&O would reach super-stardom in the early 1980s with the advent of MTV and videos accompanying their more New Wave-style singles. They were a duo to have nostalgia for in an ironic way in the 2000s, but now I consider their songs to be entrenched in my rotation probably forever.
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Stillness (D.M)
Summary: Where Draco makes a blubbering fool out of himself while attempting to make amends with his old roommate after learning something new at his regular therapy session.
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: none except mentions of food and some swears. He owns a cell phone in this au.
A/n: I have had this in my drafts for months now. Also I’m editing this on the side of the road outside my office coz priorities. This is not proofread
Reblogs and feedback are always welcomed :)
Words: 1500 ish
Masterlist
~~~
“Did you manage to speak to your father for five minutes, just like we discussed in our last session?”
“No.” He scoffed absentmindedly as he attempted to juggle his healer’s paperweight in his hands. She had the weirdest nicknacks lying around in her cosy little office. His favourite had to be those things called stress balls. She had quite a few of them and it helped him with his fidgeting and leg bobbling that seemed to come naturally every time he was forced to talk about his so-called feelings.
“Did you at least try?”
“I apparated to the entrance of Malfoy Manor…” Draco shrugged, getting comfortable on her sofa. “If that even counts.”
“Did you go inside?”
“No.” He yawned wondering why she made him do all these things. Just last week, she made him come up with a list of toxic traits in a human being. He did make the bloody list, but the whole time, he felt as if he was describing no one but himself.
“I see.” She commented, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose and scribbled something on a notebook with her quill. “Tell me more about the Manor Draco.”
“Well, I haven’t seen it since after the war so I don’t think I can be of much help.” He muttered, fluffing the pillow behind him to get more comfortable. He was going to be there for another forty-five minutes so it was only appropriate that he made himself feel at home.
“Where did you move to after the war, Draco?”
“Oh, I got a flat near Diagon alley.”
“I see.” His healer nodded observantly. “Did you live alone in this flat?”
“No.” He said quietly and reached for a stress ball that was on her coffee table. The flat was a touchy subject for him so he’d carefully sealed it in a cabinet in his mind. No one had asked him about the flat in so long that he was pretty sure that the cabinet had probably collected dust and cobwebs. “No I didn't.”
“You had roommates?”
“Room mate.” He corrected her, pressing the stress ball that looked like a globe in his palm. It felt like squeezing the world in a way and it was ironic considering it was usually the other way around. The world crushed him.
“Tell me more about this roommate of yours.”
“I met her right after I graduated from Hogwarts actually. I was looking for a place to live in after moving out of the Manor and she was looking for a flatmate.” His expression suddenly became wistful, like his mind was taking him back to a time that was a little bit blissful.
“And?”
“Sometimes, I crave those vanilla mascarpone tarts she used to make.” He mumbled to almost himself before reaching for his mobile phone. Of course, he wasn't allowed to use his cellular while the session was still on but as if he cared about the rules. “Vanilla mascarpone tarts near me…” Draco mumbled out loud as he typed into his phone.
“Mr. Malfoy.”
“One second..”
“Mr. Malfoy.” His healer’s voice came in loud and crisp. She managed to sound assertive yet oddly calm about the whole situation. Her expression remained perfectly neutral.
“Right..Sorry.” He apologized sheepishly and chucked his phone away. “It's just those tarts...I was craving some last night too.”
“Do these cravings happen often?”
“Only every other day.” He admitted, reaching for the paperweight again.
“Do you think about your old roommate often?”
“I dunno. Maybe,” He sighed, as the paperweight fell from his hand and rolled under the couch. “Let’s just say that my home felt a bit more homely when she was my flatmate.”
“How come?”
“She loved those soy candles, was a bit private about her own room but took great joy in making our shared living space aesthetically pleasing. I remember this one time we spent hours at this place called IKEA, pretending to be a married couple looking for furniture for our future home.”
His face suddenly fell but he decided to push through anyway. These memories were much more pleasant compared to his memories of Voldemort and the Manor.
“And?”
“I fell in love with her that day…when we got back home and attempted to assemble the coffee table without instructions. It felt safe with her, you know. I hadn’t felt that way since after the war.” He shrugged nonchalantly. A few weeks ago, he would have gouged out his eyeballs than talk about love. But they’d covered the topic of love before and now he was more comfortable talking about it.
“Did you tell her how you felt at the time?”
“No.”
“What did you do?”
“I moved out the very next day because it felt like I was letting my guard down. It was like placing my heart inside a box with a bow on it and handing it over to her.” He shrugged, trying to keep a straight face. Sure, he could talk about love but she was still a touchy subject. “It felt like I was no longer in control.”
“So do you feel like you are in control now?”
“No.” He glared at his healer, suddenly feeling a bit mocked.
“What do we know about sharks, Draco?” The healer asked, carefully sipping her glass of water, looking like she hadn’t asked him the most random question ever.
“Sharks are cool.” He shrugged, wondering if his healer needed a healer herself.
“Although scientific research suggests that it's a myth, it is often said that sharks have to keep swimming for survival.” She remarked, in her assertive but calming voice again. “Are you a shark, Draco?”
“What?!” He looked up at her, bewildered.
“Tell me, are you a shark?” She repeated, looking like she herself found her question funny, like it was a running inside joke she had with herself.
“Obviously not.”
“Exactly.”
“What does that even mean?”
“You are no shark Draco. You don’t need to keep swimming to survive.” She handed him another stress ball she had conjured with her voice suddenly gentle. She almost reminded him of his mother.
“Don’t be afraid of the parts of you that seem to come out in the stillness.”
~~~
He decided to take a walk home instead of using the floo network. It was a lovely day and as luck would have it, a bakery down the road sold freshly made vanilla mascarpone tarts.
He handed the old man behind the counter his money and left the shop in a hurry to take a ginormous bite of the sweet treat.
Just like he imagined it to be, the tart was decadent and melted right into this mouth. The shell was perfectly crispy and he was positive the vanilla was freshly sourced from vanilla bean pods.
He took another bite and this time, it didn't leave him feeling satisfied. If anything, it left him with something to be desired. It was like the tart was just missing something.
“Don’t be afraid of the parts of you that seem to come out in the stillness.”
His healer's words echoed in his mind as he took a third bite. Halfway through swallowing, he remembered the taste of the tarts she used to make. Sometimes she used vanilla extract instead of the pod and sometimes she’d mildly burn the tart shell.
He wasn’t capable of understanding why he liked the taste of her tarts better, but he knew one thing for sure. Those vanilla mascarpone tarts made him feel like he was finally home.
After his final bite Draco allowed his mind to still. Maybe his healer had a point because all of a sudden, the cabinet where he stored his memories burst open.
Maybe he was overwhelmed, Maybe he was confused. He didn’t know.
All he knew was that he’d have to make one last push, he’d have to make one last swim to the shore, until he was home again.
He’d never apparated so quickly in his life before, it made him feel like he’d stuck his head into those muggle monstrosities called washing machines.
And when he finally reached, he knocked and he knocked and he knocked.
“Coming!” She called out and he suddenly had the urge to turn around and make a run for it. Change his name, fake his death. Maybe he could dye his hair black.
“Draco?”
She was just as beautiful as the last time he saw her. A lot more beautiful actually. Her hair was styled differently and she was wearing a white coloured button up that was far too big on her. Was that his? Wait, is she baking?
“What do you want?” she folded her arms defensively.
“I know it's random but I came here to tell you that I don't want to keep swimming!” Draco crouched down to the ground and placed a hand on his chest to catch his breath. He was gasping for air and he could barely get any words out of his mouth. “I am not a shark.”
She held the door frame with both hands and cocked her head to the side to eye him from head to toe with an amused look on her face.
He knew he was probably the last person she wanted to see after how he’s left. Still, he had to try and make things right. He owed that much to himself, he owed that much to her and that IKEA coffee table she still seemed to have.
“You are not a shark?” She deadpanned as he slowly stood back up on his feet again.
“Yes!” He exclaimed. “I am not a shark and neither are you.”
“I am not a shark?”
He realised that his message was completely lost in translation. For all he knew, she probably thought he had lost his mind or suffered significant spell damage. It sounded so much better when his healer said it. Fucking hell.
He closed his eyes and took a drawn out breath till he felt his diaphragm expand to its full capacity.
He had one shot. He had to get it right.
“Look, I know what I did was wrong and stupid and cowardly. I shouldn’t have left the way I did and I know I can't take it back.” He kept his eyes fixed on hers as he said his while his left hand reached for hers. “And I completely understand if you never want to talk to me again but I have to tell you this.”
“Tell me that I’m not a shark?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I have to let you know that you felt like home to me. I loved everything about this apartment, down to the soy candles. I loved everything about you and it terrified me.”
“You lost me at the shark thing.” She said softly, trying to maintain a rigid expression but her eyes were glassy. She couldn’t hide anything in those expressive eyes of hers.
“It sounded so much better when my healer said it!” He groaned, frustrated.
“Why don't you come on inside and explain it to me then?”
“Are those Vanilla Mascarpone tarts?”
“Yes, Draco.” She laughed. “Yes, they are.”
~~~
Will sort out my tag list when I get home 😭. I’m a mess.
Draco/ General HP Taglist: @maybesandohnos @justfangirlthingies @dlmmdl @desiredmalfoy @trainintersection @wh0re4blaise @marrymetheonott @quacksonsssandtea @letoof @rvaldez7569 @lolooo22 @emma67 @berriemalfoy @thegaudess @itchywitch33 @lunar0se10 @savagelysarcasticslytherin @fleursbabe @teawineaddict @malfoyxxdraco23 @fantasyfairysworld @trashyvicks @h0ggyw0ggyh0gwarts @l0vely-lupin @linasylveon @dracomalfoyisindahouse @sycathorn-slush @lalunemoonstone @supermisunderstoodoceans @belladaises @riddleswh0r3crux @justreadingficsdontmindme @axdxis @97santoki @laceycallisto @haroldpotterson @thetipsysaquatch @darlingmalfoy @letsmariya @malfoysbiitch @turn-to-page-394-please @malfoysgem @m4lf0ym1lk3rs @ameliasbitvh @slythermuf @wolfstar_lb @underappreciated-spoon-321 @yiamalfoy @louweasleymalfoy @fa-me @dracoswhore007 (sorry if I missed anyone. Please look into your privacy settings if I was unable to tag you. Love you all. x )
#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy#draco x reader#draco malfoy imagine#draco fanfiction#draco fic#draco malfoy fluff#draco fluff#Draco malfoy#draco lucius malfoy#draco x yn#draco x you#draco x female reader#draco malfoy x fem!reader
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I'm not sure if you actually care but GFB confirmed that Vanessa's Curse IS canon, and so are all the other CDLC's that'll release
First of all I want to apologize for spreading false information. To that time I wasn't involved into the whole business, what's canon/gonna happen next anymore. I was only assuming because at the time I was working with them, it was considered only to be a mod. As well as I mistook it for two years on and off in development as it actually were three.
You can say what you want but in the end of the day it was intended to be a mod, if it wasn't for the fans, this canon wouldn't have existed.
Another thing that's standing out for me ever since are the original voice lines in the offical Death Wish DLC. Everyone seems to forget about the previous lines where he actually mentions her. The one where he says he's got a lonely old friend living all by herself in a dusty old manor. The one where he says that everyone has a soulmate and that she's waiting for him? To be honest I can't imagine anyone else who could have been refered to here other than Vanessa. Of course one could argue that it was meant to be ironic or in a sarcastic manner but really, for me it sounds way more nostalgic and wistful. And it adds so much more to the character than just blank hate, bitterness and disgust towards her. Because feelings are complicated and messy. So even if something hurts you so bad sometimes you can't just completely turn your back against it, hate it and just drop all your former feelings. Sometimes you can't help but long for the good old days.
The Seal the Deal DLC with DW included was created by the original creators so it will always have a higher priority for me. Don't get me wrong, I love fan made content about Snatcher and his backstory! It's a fun and exciting experience how others interpret and tell the story of the two but it will always be something fanmade/non-canon for me.
If GFB decided to make it canon, everything that happened in this mod, even if it's mostly based on a multiplayer online mode, then I feel like the "previous version" of how they told the story doesn't line up with the "new one". The voice lines from Death Wish just don't really match up with the mood in the VC DLC.
I especially liked the cryptic lines a lot because you were able to interpret so much in them. Gfb did such a good job in telling a story carefully and making it mysterious in a way. If you have to think on your own and put the puzzle pieces together yourself it will feel much more like an achievement, like something special. You have to think and interact and don't just get every info thrown straight at you.
I know, I probably sound like I'm crying over here and hating over there. But in reality I just felt like telling you how I feel and share my point of view. Maybe you agree, maybe you don't. It's both understandable. But I think my thought process here is important for the further progression of this comic.
#ask#as I said I was planning on finishing this story eventually#I don't know when I don't know how#but ultimately I want to continue telling this story
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thanks again to @dykerory and @willowcrowned for this genius au. this is an incomplete collection of very specific set of headcanons/daydreams i had about a tangential version of your au that made me emotional in the middle of the woods. whenever you feel the time is right, i’m very eager to hear your og version on the ‘but obi-wan, tho!’, because i admittedly pushed this one’s resolution really far chronologically because i wanted batman to be involved.
continuation from here
note: my understanding of dcu is as sporadically informed as my understanding of the gffa.
newly graduated clark kent gets his first journalism job and starts settling more and more into the superman thing. the rest of the justice league has been around but his entrance onto the scene is the one that really inspires the various heroes to actually start coordinating to deal with the weirdness magnet that is dcu Earth. Clark is in his early 20s. Anakin is in his late 30s.
He’s been living on Earth, without the force, for nearly 2/3rds of his life. He has a close knit circle of friends who were kind to him even when they thought he was just a weird and crazy emo cult victim (the gradual increase of public encounters with aliens and superpowers sparks some awkward apologies, Anakin at 38 just waves his friends off, smiling and changing the subject, neither confirming nor denying his high school ramblings of spaceships and magic. it doesn’t really change anything).
He lives an hour’s drive from smallville, and runs a successful auto shop. people travel from pretty far to check out some of his more wild and specialized motorcycle abominations. makes enough money selling them to rich idiots to fund his free auto-class and auto-repair programs for impoverished communities.
It took a while but he eventually came around to the idea of helping people without physical force (ironically, this is happening around the same time Clark is coming to the realization that he can help people with physical force). Generally respected as a pillar of the community. When people start to realize how profoundly weird he is as a person in a number of inexplicable ways, someone will generally pull them aside and quietly whisper that he was in a cult at a child, no one really knows much about it except that it’s what inspired his anti-modern-slavery work, which is a little telling. Not married. Was in a long-term relationship for like 9 years. It didn’t end well but no-one knows the details.
Has several cats.
He’s- wistful but settled. He’s been through a lot of therapy. He meditates every morning and night, clearing his mind and examining his emotions in the way Obi-Wan taught him. He thinks Obi-Wan would be proud of him. He know his Mom would be.
Once he gets used to the idea, he never really stops loving the concept of learning just because. Duel bachelors degree in in african american history and american literature, masters in engineering, masters in astrophysics a phd in theoretical physics, another phd in medieval folklore. He’s worked a lot of jobs.
He was already pretty well versed in astronavigation back at the temple. Over the course of his time on earth, he gets more educated in earth astronomy and physics. With is increased knowledge, his theory for ‘how did i get here’ shifts from slight hyperdrive miscalculation, to big hyperdrive miscalculation, to some sort of hyperlane incident. he realizes that none of the stars he knows are familiar in any NASA database. He must be beyond wildspace, which helps him let go of the last bit of hurt he felt that Obi-Wan never found him.
Then he really learns physics- and- light doesn’t exactly work like that right? He thought it was just primitive Earth understanding but... he gets a phd more or less accidentally, trying and failing to disprove that the speed of life is constant constant.
Get’s another even more accidentally, explaining how alternate universes might form if we assume slightly different universal constants. He publishes his thesis anonymously around the same time metas are becoming a household term, and at least one science journalist speculates on it and how alternate universes might explain the increasing prevalence of wildly different superpowers. He doesn’t claim credit for the honorary diploma awarded to the unknown theorist- he doesn’t want to risk drawing any attention to him and by extension Clark, who’s alien differences are far more of the ‘military experiment interesting’ variety then his.
He stops tinkering with Clark’s ship. He finally gets how it works. Now that he realizes how FTL travel has to work in this universe, tinkering with the mechanical generation and harnessing of the massive quantities of energy necessary to do is startlingly familiar. But it doesn’t matter. No matter how far and fast he travels, he’s never going to be able to get back to the life he used to know.
Perhaps this is what being the chosen one actually means- he’s meant to live a life without the force, so that when he returns to it in death he’ll be able to somehow...educate? the force? maybe?
Ok, he’s not great at the metaphysical spiritual side of things, but he does accept that going back is out of his control, and he’s doing good here, even if it’s not galaxy altering.
Despite all the therapy, he never doubts that his early life was real. He has his saber and deep, deep down he can feel a spark in the kyber. He can’t do anything with it, but it’s there. There’s also pieces of the utter wreck that was his ship in the cellar, next to the sleek unblemished pod that Clark arrived in. Shortly before Clark becomes Superman, he asks for his help in melting down his old ship to make unearthly alloys.
He’s not surprised when Clark tells him he met a ‘real’ ‘magic’ user- it stands to reason that considering how relatively easy it is to convert energy from one form to another in this universe (Clark can fly), at least one kind would bend to sentient willpower in a similar way as the force does.
It’s still a little nervewracking showing his lightsaber to someone new for the first time in a decade. Zantana scrutinizes, bewildered.
“There is some sort of power locked within, but it’s unfamiliar to me,” she admits finally. “I could probably brute force it and force the energy to release itself, but it would likely destroy the container.” Anakin politely refuses.
Later, after the justice league’s formation, Clark mentions to J’onn that he has a friend who might be able to work on his ship. J’onn is extremely doubtful when he’s brought to a bizarre autoshop in the midwest that looks half-like a roadside attraction. Anakin sighs and digs his hands into the guts of the craft, muttering incomprehensibly and yelling at clark to melt down some pieces from the special scrap pile. A few days later he explains the patches he’s done to an impressed J’onn. When he asks how a human came to learn such things, he’s absently informed that,
“I used to work in a junkshop in Tatooine. All sorts of ship parts came through.”
“I’m unfamiliar with this world.”
“Tell you what, if you ever meet anyone who’s heard it of it, send them my way, and I’ll make your next repair free.”
“Oh! I’m afraid I don’t have any earth money...”
“Ugh, of course you don’t. it’s cool, capitalism sucks anyway and everyone’s entitled to free transportation, regardless of the area they happen to live. I do ask that if you can’t pay for the repairs that you spend an equivalent number of hours either attending one of my free auto classes, or volunteer at a community-led charities of your choice, here I’ll get you a pamphlet-”
So the Martian Manhunter becomes a weekly volunteer at a Midwestern Food Waste Reclamation Facility. J’onn J’onzz ends up becoming Anakin Skywalker’s friend well before he becomes comes truly comfortable around Kal-El. For a telepath, 39 year old Anakin’s Jedi orderly mind is a soothing relief.
(again, Anakin has spent far more time meditating on Earth then he ever did at the temple. Before all this, spent five years dutifully memorizing the Jedi way even as he struggled to live up it’s basic practices. For the first few years on earth, religiously practicing every meditation technique Obi-Wan ever taught him, thinking obsessively about the philosophies he never had time to really process, is just a desperate attempt to reconnect with the force, prove himself worthy of it. But even after he gives up on ever touching the force again, he keeps up the practice, he can’t release his emotions exactly, but he does find peace. The tendency to stop mid-rant to earnestly pronounce made up zen bullshit and then sit quietly for an hour before picking up on his tirade again as though there was no interruption is one of the things many things people find profoundly weird about him)
Kal-El doesn’t stop asking new aliens and dimensional travelers if they’ve ever heard of Coruscant, or Hutts, or the Jedi Order. Anakin might have given up, but Superman remembers his older brother scrubbing away his own tears to focus on helping Clark calm down enough to touch the floor again. The more the Kryptonian’s powers developed in alarming ways, the more Anakin set aside talk of missing his home galaxy. Anakin might have claimed it wasn’t like that, but Clark was determined to take every chance his increasingly weird life threw at him, no matter how vanishingly small.
In the middle of his first battle with Braniac, Clark starts insulting his incomplete database. The world collector pauses, demanding a more precise explanation. Clark complies, giving his best technical description of Coruscant’s cityscape, Tatooine’s binary star system, and so on. Braniac is so distracted that Superman recovers completely from his kryptonite poisoning and easily saves the day.
Neither the lantern corp or the denizens of the neutral zone have the answers. Superman doesn’t mention it it Anakin, but he never stops looking and listening.
“How did you even meet that guy?” Flash asks curiously after stopping to say hello on one of their after work laps of the country.
“Aliens among us support group,” Kal-El responds deadpan.
“Oh. Wait, what? He’s an alien? I thought he was from the future or something! You’re messing with me. No way that’s a thing. How many people are in the support group? This is a joke, right?”
“Sorry, most of them aren’t out and I don’t want to violate their privacy- a lot of them have high profile jobs. How do you think I met J’onn?”
“SUPES I’M FREAKING OUT RIGHT NOW YOU’VE GOTTA STOP”
Anakin is just sort of vaguely known by a solid chunk of the super community as ‘that one midwestern zen space mechanic’ and no one really questions it because everyone’s life has just gotten so goddamn weird. A few of them know he used to be a space wizard of some kind. Space wizards now being a regular hazard of life on earth, no one has reason to doubt this, and it’s as good an explanation as any for Anakin’s general vibe.
well. almost no one doubts this. Batman does not simply accept Anakin’s general bullshittery without carefully investigating and drawing his own conclusions. He does not share these with anyone.
But one day Clark- this is well after Superman became Kal-El to him, and not long after Kal-El tells him to call him Clark- comes up to him and asks for his help finding about an alternate universe. Knowing and dreading where this is going, Batman stalls,
“Shouldn’t you be asking one of the league members who regularly travels between universes?”
“I have, over the years,” Clark admits, awkwardly scuffing a boot on the floor of the cave. “But no one’s familiar with the exact one I’m looking for, and I thought since you’re a detective, and also one of the smartest people I know, you might be able to help me...”
“You’re an investigator yourself, and you can survive the vacuum of space,” Bruce shoots back flatly. “I’ve told you before Gotham is my priority, and this has ‘personal project’ all over it.”
“Come on, B, please,” Superman pleads, trailing Batman around the cave like an overgrown puppy. “In a few months it will have been 30 years! He’s my brother! Just let me see the research you’ve already done!”
“Who says I’ve already done research on your brother?”
Clark shoots him a look. And Bruce concedes the point with a grunt.
“I’ll need need to talk with him first,” Bruce finally concedes. “Bring him by the cave. Take the-”
“Take the tunnel entrance, I know, I know,” Clark agrees with a grin. “This doesn’t mean he’s authorized to know your secret identity. Thanks Bruce, this means a lot. I’ll ask him tomorrow about his schedule.”
Superman flies off and Batman scrubs his face with a gloved hand. After a moment he pulls up Anakin’s file on the main monitor. Bruce honestly respects and likes the man, as much as he respects and likes anyone who’s not family. He admires his sense his style, appreciates his upgrades to the batmobile, and is impressed by both this civil rights work and his additions to the scientific community.
That doesn’t mean he’s not convinced that Anakin’s brother is a bit insane. Again, he’s not judging! He dresses like a bat to scare random henchmen and beat up actual demigods! He wishes his rogues gallery was as capable of directing their ptsd-inspired delusions and staggering intellects towards such productive pursuits!
Bruce was already in quiet awe of the Kent’s ability to raise an outrageously superpowered being without blowing up a chunk of the country; their success in derailing a supervillian origin story just puts him over the edge. He stares at the three most likely profiles he’s pulled together. Christen Jones, from a negligent family, death certificate filled out suspicously sloppily at age 3. Earl Lucas, went missing at age 9, both parents dead in a violent assault. And Jake Hayden, who at age 5 disappeared along with the rest of his family in a seismic accident later linked to Luthercorp.
Anyone of them could have suffered on the streets for years and coped by establishing an elaborate fantasy world, aided by self medication, only to eventually be picked up by the Kent’s and start healing. Certainly Anakin had the intellect to create worlds in his mind. All his rogues were smart enough to create their own little realities in their heads- it doesn’t mean they were actually reachable.
Unfortunately Anakin had a Kryptonian younger brother who was determined to actually find the space wizard knight homeworld, even as the 'Jedi’ in question had slowly moved away his reliance on the delusion as an adult. Batman really didn’t see any way bringing up his conclusions to Anakin or Clark could possibly be helpful, and so many alien allies had a ‘If you find about the Jedi please contact Kal-El of Krypton on Earth’ pamphlet that it would be excruciatingly awkward to try and discretely correct anyone.
Bruce was not looking forward to this conversation.
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Set Me Free (M)
Min Yoongi Oneshot
•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes
•••> Summary: You are just an ordinary woman with a strange aura about you that Yoongi can’t seem to resist- even past the compulsion of his mentor. The question is: why?
•••> Pairing(s): Yoongi/Reader
•••> Requested by @itsgottabeyoo-ngs : “Hi daddy, One shot request with vampire Yoongi x brat reader. Bonus points for adding in choking or spitting idk make it filthy k thanks love you byeeeee xoxoxoxox”
•••> Word Count: 10.95k
•••> Rating: 18+
•••> Tags: smut | vampire!au | Yoongi!AU | Vampire’s Mate | Vampire!Yoongi | Human!Reader | Gifted!Reader
•••> Warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, murder, attempted murder, slight choking/strangulation, dirty talk, biting, blood drinking, spitting, violence, horror, vampire/human relationship, cursing, mental attachment, thirsty Yoongi, Yoongi thinks he’s scary, but he’s totally not
Copyright © 2020 ilikemesometaetaes. All Rights Reserved.
Thank you for the request, babe! This one is a bit to unpack, as you can see. I hope you enjoy :)
~#~
Yoongi never claimed to have his thirst under complete control.
He stands before his brothers once every week for the feed, snarling as he consumes his share of blood, while the others bear witness so as to provide him ceremonial protection- a vampire is very vulnerable while he consumes blood. The polydipsia made one lose all form of reason and sense of mind, driven to the brink of animalistic insanity when it was in the process of mildly quenching the eternal hunger.
Polydipsia, used to describe his level of thirst, was the word made just for him in his own little world.
It wasn’t normal thirst, like a human, but the savage-like impulse to drink and drown until he could swim in a river of blood and take deep lungfuls of the crimson fluid. The impossible desire to consume and be completely consumed by blood until he became it himself always loomed over his mind in his early days as a Deadblood- a vampire youngling- causing him to search for a word that could completely describe his affliction.
Then the Greeks begun transforming their language, perfecting the word that he could use to chronicle his need. He had mulled over the thought throughout the few centuries that the word came into existence, truly connecting with it on a level that was deprived of him when his soul was taken from his body.
But the word was not only used to describe normal thirst; it described the abnormal desire to drink as a symptom of disease- and a disease is what Min Yoongi had.
From the days he explored the lands of Goryeo as a young teenage boy, he knew that disease racked every inch of the world. Street beggars, riddled with sicknesses and incurable illnesses, asked him for coin, food, clothing, and any necessities that could potentially carry them through the night into another sunrise. But the one thing that they begged for the most was water.
Liquid life. Yoongi thinks back on the ironic turn of events and how, even as a privileged boy of nobles, he understood just how desperate a person got when they were deprived of the one, singular fluid that supported life as he knew it.
As Yoongi approached adulthood, he was promoted and bestowed larger honors in the name of the Min clan, allowing him to provide more for the beggars and lower-class individuals that he came across on the streets every day- not that his father would find out.
Until he did.
Yoongi recalls the moment he knew that his father figured out that his son was spoiling the family riches on the lower class. They weren’t sitting down for dinner and having a conversation nor taking a stroll along the river like the two of them normally would- it was quite surprising, really. Yoongi had to applaud his father for the creativity of the circumstance.
He knew that his father figured out his whereabouts when he found himself bleeding out in the middle of the woods with three arrows, adorned with the Min clan crest carved into the wood, sticking out of his chest. He was sent to look for his supposedly lost little sister under the direction that she was probably at a watering hole- which Yoongi had never heard about- about forty-five minutes from the edge of Goryeo’s walls.
Many people ventured outside of the city to fend for food and necessities, or to find civilization elsewhere, so it wasn’t surprising to him that his curious baby sister wanted to see for herself what life was like outside of the city’s limits.
As Yoongi lay dying on the soil of the earth, staring up at the greenery of the trees above while they lightly swayed in the breeze, he realized that everyone, regardless of social-class or physical health, was fighting the same, universal disease: death. No one could escape it and no one was safe. At least, that’s the epiphany he had in an effort to comfort himself while he felt his heart painfully struggle to beat with an arrowhead lodged into it. Copious amounts of blood spurt out with each pulse of his damaged organ.
And then the universe decided to set him free from death with a cure worse than the disease itself.
Yoongi doesn’t remember who his creator was. He doesn’t remember how long he spent on the forest floor with the arrows still in his chest. He doesn’t remember waking up.
His memory of his new life started from the moment his consciousness returned, in the exact second that he found a set of vocal cords clutched in the palm of his hand, dripping with crimson, after apparently ripping them out of a young boy who was actively collapsing in front of him. The boy, who Yoongi immediately recognized from the streets of Goryeo, was choking on his own gore as he clutched at his now nonexistent throat, staring up at his killer with a jumbled expression that silently begged for help yet withdrew from terror.
It took Yoongi five years of trekking everywhere and no where while attempting to control his thirst before he found new meaning. He mostly had a hold on the scorch in his throat by staying away from the city and surrounding villages before he met another and figured out what he became.
The woman- no, girl?- appeared young yet spoke as if she had seen countless winters, the wisdom of a million middays glowing behind her carmine eyes. She was the first person he had met who did not end up dead within the first two minutes of scenting them on the wind.
“You are a vampire. You survive purely on the life essence of others. You are still a young Deadblood. Judging by your age, you should become a Redblood soon.” She sat with her back to him, overlooking the valley below the then-unnamed Odaesan mountain that they sat perched upon. “Do you know who created you?”
“Created me?” He asked. “What do you mean? My parents?”
She turned, her vibrant red eyes continuing to shock him. Did his own orbs look like this?
“I mean, who turned you?” She seemed to look at him incredulously, shocked by his lack of knowledge. “Who gave you their venom- their shi?”
“I…” Yoongi tried very hard to remember anything before the burning sensation that scraped like rocks against the insides of his bones and flesh, but all he could see and feel was fire and agony- and then blood. He couldn’t help but think with a grain of salt, disbelieving of the method in which he was born into his new life. “I don’t know. I just remember from my first kill.”
“Strange.” The other vampire muttered, returning her gaze to the valley. “Strange, indeed.”
Yoongi was always the silent type, only interacting when he needed to as a habit formed to avoid the questioning glare of his father when he returned home late on certain occasions.
But he couldn’t help the burning desire of curiosity within him, a welcome distraction from the need to feed within him. He had so many questions.
“You may ask your questions, Min Yoongi.” The woman sighed, not even bothering to spare him a glance whilst she spoke. The man was shocked to find that she knew his name without him telling her.
“How do you know my name?” The new revelation took precedent in his mind, hoping that she was not an enemy of his clan.
“A valid question.” She mused. “Anticipated, but valid. I suppose I’ll answer your question to the best of my ability.”
Yoongi shifted his position in preparation, a new habit that he formed in his new life. He learned from the first time he moved to stretch that his body did not need to be stretched as it usually did. He never ached, never cramped, never tired, and never lost energy. Despite the lack of his emotions in their usual form, he knew that it should have been unsettling to find such a new change within him, so he did the sensible thing of pretending that he needed to.
He pretended he needed to breathe- after two hours at the bottom of a lake he stumbled upon in his aimless journey, he was amazed to find that he required no oxygen to continue existing- and that he didn’t need to sleep nor use the bathroom. He would practice taking breaths, trying to inhale and exhale evenly without becoming allured to the pungent yet undeniably attractive scent of animal blood so that he could finally smell the forest again. He pretended to go to sleep and wake up with the urge to relieve himself of the noneixstent pressure in his bladder despite not having any of the instincts he once had.
The woman spoke, answering his first question.
“I can hear your thoughts. They’re not necessarily specific, but I can hear when you are wistful- like you are now- or when you are curious or sad or angry. I can hear the causes of these emotions.” She paused. “It comes with the gift of my second life. A form of protection, if you will.”
“Why would I need protection when I am invincible? I’ve seen the things I can do and what my body can endure.” He briefly recalled repeatedly jumping from a cliff, automatically landing on his feet no matter how hard he tried not to. Before, he had a will to survive with a choice of dying, but now? There was no comprehensible choice. “There is nothing that can hurt me.”
Yoongi couldn’t help cocking his head to the side like a confused dog when the woman let out a breathless laugh.
“Because, young one,” She looked at him with her eyes again, a look of mock endearment filling them. “You are not invincible.”
For a moment, Yoongi did not believe her. He believed that the liquid running through his veins was pure ichor, an essence of the gods, but when he returned her look of sincere truth, he understood that dying was still very much possible.
Thanking the gods, Yoongi looked to the ground and began toying with his fingers at his revelation. He could stop murdering people, willing to die in order to do so.
The woman shook her head. “No, Min Yoongi. You do not have to die to stop killing humans. In fact, it is the reason I have not killed you yet. You are unaware of the possibilities.”
His head perked up at the comment, suddenly eager to learn.
“How? How can I live without killing?” All he could see was the young boy that he had murdered in cold blood; the boy’s warm brown eyes staring up at him as he watched the life drain from them burned into his memory- he didn’t even know the boy’s name. The boy could not have been older than his own sister.
“I never told you that you could continue to live without killing. Of course, you have to kill. But you do not have to kill people.” The woman nodded her head down the mount. “Do you smell that? Do you smell the life that lives throughout this mountain?”
Yoongi attempted to focus on his senses but could only feel the thirst once again tormenting his throat. As soon as the woman shifted his attention back to the aroma of life, he salivated. Of course, he smelled the animal’s scents, but he could also detect traces of human life upwind that completely took away his desire for anything but humans.
“Push the thirst aside to open your senses. Embrace them. Embrace your power and your abilities. Focus on those.”
Again, he tried to push the scorch in his throat to the side, only to find that it was an impossible feat seeing as he had not fed in several months. He wanted human blood so badly.
“Poor child. I did not realize how weak you were.” She let a grimace morph her features, the first true expression of genuine emotion that Yoongi had seen on her. “Come sit in front of me. I will help you.”
For a moment, Yoongi hesitated. Was she going to kill him? He was not sure, but after a few more thoughts to himself, he realized that he had nothing to lose. Following her direction obediently, he moved to sit with his legs crossed in front of the woman.
“Now, close your eyes and listen to my voice.” She raised her hands to his head, placing her fingertips on his temples, and began whispering while he let his eyes flutter closed.
He felt as if he was mentally hit by a charging bear.
The woman’s words echoed in his mind, seating themselves amongst every corner and crevice that they could touch before Yoongi could understand what was happening. Shocked by the feeling of being intruded upon, he tried to push back against the mind-numbing force of her words, uncomfortable and feeling violated by the sensation. Instead of stopping them, her voice just broke down his amateur attempt at a mental barrier and pushed its way further into his brain. He was helpless to her superior mental awareness and gift.
“You will not focus on the thirst. You will focus on your abilities. Focus on the blood of animals and the blood of those already dead.”
And Min Yoongi had no option but to obey for he was forced into a dieted life.
But as he stands, thousands of years later, in the middle of your kitchen whilst watching you silently with the inferno of the blazing sun in his esophagus, he couldn’t help the need that overcame him. He could not obey his mentor; miraculously and horrifyingly, the gift of his mentor did not work with you.
He was impelled by his mentor’s gift, effectively removing most of the bloodlust he had for humans. In his lifetime, after the unavoidable command was bestowed upon him, he had only killed a handful of humans when he was consumed by the thirst after living in self-induced exile for so long. But standing before you, he may have needed to add a finger to that handful depending on what you did next.
Yoongi first clocked you on his radar the moment you walked into the small coffee shop he was occupying for the later part of the morning.
Building a friendship with you was quite easy.
You were bright and warm and everything wonderful upon meeting him. Your smile was just shy of naive, yet he couldn’t help the alien tugs on his heart when watching you giggle.
“How old are you, Yoongi?” You asked while circling the straw in your caramel macchiato.
“Old enough.” He chuckled, looking down with what you perceived as shyness.
“Oh?” You laughed with him. “And how old is enough for you?”
“I could ask you the same question. How old do you think I am?” He met your eyes, once again shocking you with their beautifully vibrant shade of brown.
“Well…” You trailed off, studying his facial features closely- the hint of a permanent smile line, fresh haircut, and no wrinkles alluded that he couldn’t be over thirty. “I’m gonna say… twenty-five?”
The man across from you smiled. “Very close. I’m twenty-seven.”
So he wasn’t that much older than you. You could totally do him.
Yoongi noticed the flash of lust that ghosted through your pupils for a split second, recognizing the dilation of them as you glanced at him. He watched you stick your chest out a bit more, begin fiddling with your hair more often, and part your lips while you let the thoughts of sexual satisfaction run across your mind.
“Twenty-seven, huh? That’s not bad at all.” You smiled, letting your tongue lightly swipe along your bottom lip unconsciously.
Yoongi zeroed in on the action with a piercing gaze, watching as the muscle seemed to move in slow motion tauntingly, daring him to dig his fangs into it savagely before tearing it from your mouth to feel the blood pouring from your lips onto his face.
His body reacted sensibly, blood rushing like fake adrenaline to awaken his better instincts- rushing everywhere- and making his jeans become uncomfortably tight as they restrained his filling manhood.
Blood drinking was as exciting as it was satisfying for a vampire. An extremely personal and holy moment, consuming lifeblood was the most raw and sexual moment to experience. A vampire could not experience real sexual desire without it.
He dug his fingers into the faux leather of his side of the booth until they broke through the material to restrain himself from attempting to attack you in the middle of the day.
Quickly, gaining his sense of mind once again, he tore more holes into the leather to round out the punctures so that it could appear as if the holes were from wear and tear.
The scent of your blood transpierced by the hormones and adrenaline beginning to flow through your veins made it just that much more implausibly alluring. Yoongi admitted that you were a beautiful and kind woman from the conversation throughout the morning. He also knew that you had a deviant side due to the surprisingly quick appearance of your lust-filled gaze.
Yet he couldn’t help the urge to murder you on the spot.
He knew that he couldn’t touch you. The supernatural safety of the sun that shone on your body prevented him from laying a finger on your skin without his own lighting aflame. He learned the protection of sun rays on humans the hard way.
His fifth human victim, a monk who travelled the heights of Mount Odaesan- Yoongi’s sanctuary and home- for a religious trial, travelled early in the morning as the sun was rising. Yoongi smelt the sweat dripping from the man’s skin instantly. In the small cove he called home, he tried to resist the urge to kill the man for he hadn’t smelt human blood in several years.
His mentor’s words were ever present. ‘Focus on the blood of animals and the blood of those already dead.’
Despite having those words affecting his instincts, Yoongi had managed to convince himself that the monk was a dead man standing once he smelled remnants of a virus tainting his scent, effectively bypassing the impulsion of the woman’s mind control.
Yoongi found himself rushing at the man without a second thought, fangs bared and fingers curled in preparation to tear the man’s limbs from his body. However, before he could get within two feet of the vulnerable monk, he was thrown back by an invisible and boiling hot force that left him screaming in agony and flying through the air.
The monk quickly ran back down the mountain in terror, yet Yoongi could pay no mind as he lay on the forest floor, ready to die once again as his skin singed and fell from his flesh like swamp sludge.
As his throat tore itself raw from his wails of misery, his body writhed in and out on itself in complete and utter anguish. The smell of burnt flesh overwhelmed his nostrils, pungent and nauseating in every possible way. How he was able to focus on something other than the pain was beyond him.
Despite the burning, Yoongi could feel his aflame skin beginning to heal itself. Clawing through the dirt, he felt the blood stored in his stomach rushing through his veins to the broken and severed ones, rebuilding them and recreating the network of arteries necessary to begin restoring his expanse of skin.
Before long, the pain subsided and Yoongi was no longer screaming. The entire ordeal lasted approximately twenty minutes- long enough that Yoongi no longer heard the footsteps of the monk and long enough for him to process the events that had just happened.
He was thankful that he became a Redblood with the ability to use consumed blood throughout his body, unsure of what would have happened to him if he had been a Deadblood at the time. Deadbloods burned through consumed blood quicker than a spark from a flint could ignite kindling into a flame.
He definitely needed to ask the woman, Zizi, about it. And he definitely needed to track that monk until sundown so that he could get rid of any loose ends.
Yoongi grimaced slightly, remembering the occurrence like it was yesterday, as he sat across from you.
You were still looking down at your cup in blissful unawareness of his inner turmoil and life that he’s lived thus far. You definitely were not dense enough to not notice his gaze on your skin, but you were definitely ignorant of the fact that he was thinking about what would happen if he could just get you to move a few feet to the right to gain cover from the direct line of the sun. He just needed to get you into the shadows.
“Y/N,” He called your name. You instantly looked up in response. “How old are you?”
“Old enough.” You teased him back with his own words. He let a small smile thin his lips before he looked down to hide it. When you followed his gaze and noticed that he didn’t have a drink, you jumped to the opportunity.
“Can I buy you a drink, Min Yoongi?” You asked him.
“Oh, I’m not particularly craving coffee at the moment.” He paused and held his breath, as if trying to find the words to say. “I just like to sit here sometimes and enjoy watching the street.”
“Well,” Ask him! Ask him out! Yes! Do it! Your head screamed at you to be confident. You knew he was the shy type; you would be waiting all day for him to make a move and you just didn’t have the time nor patience for that. “Let me get you a drink at my bar?”
The man looked mildly impressed for a moment. “You own a bar?”
“A small one.” You swiftly added. “It’s not a big popular one or anything but I didn’t want a place too big. I like the smaller things.”
Yoongi couldn’t help but smile. You were a kind and beautiful woman living a simple life. He dreaded the moment that he was going to have to kill you.
“I take it you’re pretty well off then?” He asks. “And please don’t take this as me digging around. I’m just curious.”
“Don’t worry about it. Yeah, actually.” You laughed and sat back in your chair, looking out the window onto the street as people and cars passed by. “I’ve always been pretty lucky for some reason. The gods always seem to be in my favor and give me what I want.”
Yoongi smirked for a moment. If she wants me, she can have me. Then, I’ll have her.
When Yoongi found himself in the prime position to attack you in your kitchen, several weeks later, he knew. He finally had you where he wanted you.
A handful of dates that he found quite pleasant were all it took.
You turned out to be just what he thought- a strangely attractive and alluring woman, the scent of your blood aside. You exhumed an odd magnetism about you that Yoongi had never felt from a human. He regretted the decision of waiting so long to kill you seeing as he was considering letting you live. But he knew that he couldn’t do that.
With your back turned to him, busying yourself with dinner, he could easily snap your neck so that you wouldn’t scream and struggle- and you would be dead almost instantly. A quick and nearly painless death was what you deserved. He didn’t want you to suffer at all.
However, just as he crouched in preparation to lunge at you, you spoke.
“Are you ready for dinner, babe?” You asked him.
He smiled devilishly, venom filling his mouth as he salivated. “Yes, I am. I’m starving.”
You chuckled. “Okay.”
“Go and sit down at the table.”
It was the most simple of commands. Telling Yoongi to sit down wasn’t an order. You weren’t demanding him to do it. You never demanded anything of him. It was a mere suggestion in your eyes.
Yet Yoongi felt his body moving to the dinner table without a second thought, unable to resist obeying your words.
What in the everliving fuck.
He sat quickly, impotent to move from his spot while he waited for you to bring the food from the counter. His thirst obliterated his throat, causing it to seize up and restrict any air that he could previously breathe, but he sat in wonder as you seemed to hold power over him that he had never felt before.
You turned with both of your dinner plates in hand and he quickly smothered the panic on his face, wondering what in the world had just happened.
“I’m not at all a chef, but you better eat everything.” Yoongi tested your words, seeing if the inclination to finish your food was present, only to find a slight mental nudge- as he expected. You didn’t tell him to do anything; you merely made an ‘or else’ statement.
No longer desperate to kill you for the time being, Yoongi sat still and waited for your next words. Once you sat the plate in front of him, you uttered a joke.
“Dig in.”
And dig in Yoongi did. He picked up his fork and scooped into the pasta you made without any willingness to deny you.
The pasta wasn’t fantastic in any sort of the word- It was plain, although it could be due to the fact that it wasn’t at all what he truly craved and needed. It was like eating a piece of stale bread while he was offered a perfectly cooked and outright juicy steak on a silver platter. The food that he ate wouldn’t be consumed by his body and used for nutrients; the shi in his stomach would burn it to nothingness within the next few hours.
Uncontrollably, Yoongi shoved mouthful after mouthful into his mouth- he couldn’t stop. Once he finished chewing one bite, his hand was immediately bringing him another, and then another. Despite lacking the need to breathe, Yoongi felt himself suffocating with each bite as the realization that he could do nothing except eat his food settled in his mind.
“I see you were hungry.” You laughed, unaware of his predicament. Yoongi’s eyes shot up to yours and silently hoped you would give him another command so that he could stop the foolishness.
You, however, just sat there feeling sort of proud of yourself- not only for making an edible meal, but for making one Yoongi seemed to enjoy. Even though it was slightly shocking to see him out of his usually cool character, acting like a man suffering from hunger, you couldn’t help but find it undeniably cute.
Eating slowly while watching him, you let your feelings for him come to the surface.
Yoongi was utterly beautiful. His black hair that fell over his face while he was cleaning up the last bits of his plate was just long enough to cover his eyes, yet as he looked at you without reservation, you felt he had a clear line of sight straight into your soul.
His skin was nearly flawless save for the light and narrow scar that cut into his right eye. Others found the scar intimidating and ugly, but you found it rather attractive. Yoongi, with his uncanny physical allure, was undeniably the most beautiful man you had ever seen.
Your body was alight with joy and content. In the few weeks that you got to know him, liking him was incredibly easy and having him in your home, in a domestic setting, lit your heart on fire with the possibility of falling in love with him.
He was incredibly easy to love, you discovered. Everything about him begged you to fall for him. As if the universe created him just for you, Min Yoongi was the epitome of perfection- in your eyes, anyway.
Briefly, you had shown a photo of him to your mother. She became unsettled instantly by his appearance.
“He’s so pale. And a little scary-looking.” She squinted at the photo you took of him when he wasn’t looking. You never brought him up again to your mother, disliking the fact that she didn’t like your potential boyfriend and found him scary.
The picture just happened to be your favorite- being because he didn’t like pictures and it was the only one you had of him.
He kindly asked you to not take photos of him. When you prompted him as to why during one of your more intimate moments at your bar, he only answered playfully as he held you close to him, lips begging for you to kiss them.
“Because I don’t want to leave evidence.” He whispered, breath tickling your nose. His body was warm and sturdy, muscles rippling under your touch as you clung to his shoulders.
“Evidence from what?” You asked breathily. The heat in your panties had increased tenfold over the last few minutes as his eyes grew hungrier with want. Yoongi’s fingers dug into your waist painfully, pulling you so close that you barely had room to expand your lungs to breathe, yet you couldn’t help the edgy feeling of how rough he could be with you.
“From when I eat you up.”
Thinking back on the memory, you shivered involuntarily, hoping that tonight might be the night you actually get to have him. He’d made you wait for a little over a month and you had no idea why. You definitely felt him straining through his pants a few times. But no kisses or anything further than the pressing of your bodies was accomplished.
Yoongi finished his plate and sat upright briskly, pulling you from your wishful thinking with a jump.
“Y/N,” He nearly growled, shocking you. “What else do you want me to do?”
The fork you were holding clattered to your plate instantly. Wow. He’s sizzling hot.
“I-“ You stuttered a bit. “I- uh.”
“Spit it out.” He hissed. You jumped again, trying to find the words to say with the heat growing in your panties.
Quickly, you answered him. “I want you to take me to my bedroom.”
“Thank god.” He groaned, getting up slowly with a smirk on his face. “Is that just a request? Because I can walk out now if you don’t actually want this.”
“Take me to my bedroom, Yoongi.” You stood slowly, carefully, as if you were afraid to trigger him.
Yoongi pushed in his chair and moved towards you at a speed that was almost inhuman. You yelped in astonishment as Yoongi attempted to control himself- he couldn’t bring you to your bedroom at his natural speed or else he would have a very motion-sick human to worry about. Instead, he trembled with the effort to resist your command at full force, knowing that the only way it was possible was due to the fact that he was still, in fact, taking you to your bedroom.
Picking you up was easier than breathing. You weighed absolutely nothing in his arms because of his advanced strength, so when he felt you trying to assist him in carrying you by holding your body stiffly, he huffed out a laugh whilst he walked.
“Relax, woman. You are as light as a feather.”
You blushed under his words, leaning into his chest to hide your cheeks.
“Stop that.” He growled, entering your bedroom. You looked up at him and he couldn’t tear his eyes from the blood that rushed to your cheeks. “I can’t resist if you do that.”
“Then don’t.” You whispered. Your heart pounded in your chest, begging him to hear it. “Don’t resist.”
His fangs came forth immediately, for he could not resist your command while he flew to your bed to throw you down. Despite your unknowing of what you were telling him to do, he fostered no opposition to what he was about to do.
The roughness of his throw startled you for a moment as you looked up at his vastly approaching figure, only to grow terrified when you caught sight of his face.
The veins protruding out of his temples and cheeks pumped blood straight into the whites of his eyes, turning them completely bloodshot, as they framed the now-crimson irises. Long incisors protruded from his mouth as he opened it with a hiss, revealing the way his human teeth shifted apart to allow his inhuman ones to break through the gums. Instantly, you parted your lips to scream.
Yoongi was upon you instantly, hand covering your mouth and silencing your cry while he snarled menacingly, yet he couldn’t help but feel remorse for killing you.
“I’m sorry.” He whimpered through his animalistic demeanor. “I can’t stop.”
You were screaming below his hand and, instantaneously, he had an idea.
He was leaning forward slowly, able to slow himself in the process of not resisting you. “Y/N,” He strained, changing the frequency of his talent, and waited for you to silence yourself in order to listen to him. He took his hand off of your mouth slowly after he heard your heart calm itself past your weeping. “Tell me to stop.”
“Stop!” You sobbed whilst clawing at his chest and kicking at his legs. “Don’t kill me!”
Not a second passed before Yoongi flew off of you, throwing his back to your wall with a loud thud while he cursed lowly.
You scrambled to the headboard of your bed, pressing your back against it in an attempt to gain some distance between the two of you. Your eyes were wide, chest heaving with your breath short, as you looked at the man in front of you.
“I-“ Yoongi stuttered for the first time in decades. “I’m sorry.”
“Your eyes!” Your burst out. You were unable to contain your fear and shock, so you displaced it into your curiosity. “Y-your- Your face! Your teeth!”
Yoongi stood against the wall, breathing just as hard as you, with his eyes cast to the floor in the process of trying to control his facial features. He could no longer kill you. The thought revolted him- every time he considered drinking your blood, the idea was banished from his mind with a sense of nausea following. Good god. She is unaware of her ability yet I am completely at her mercy.
“I apologize. I couldn’t help myself.” He breathed. What Yoongi forgot to take into account was the fact that he began implementing the gift of his second life on you the moment he stepped foot through your threshold, so your mind was completely scrambled by this point.
It was nighttime now; he could not leave your house no matter how hard he tried. He knew of the fallacy that vampires needed to be invited in and he found himself giggling from time to time at how close humans got to the actual lore of his kind.
He could enter your house, uninvited, during the day. He could lurk every corner of your abode without a bother, yet when night fell and the sun finally set, he would be stuck inside until morning. He knew he would be staying the night in your house the moment he agreed to have dinner with you. If he attempted to enter through your door during the night, however, he would have no luck- the night’s protection would convince his brain to walk away from your home without any further reconsideration until he was a good distance from it.
He was in the first position now.
He wished that he could leave you and disappear from your life without a trace so that you could live a peaceful and happy life without him, but he was afraid that it was impossible now with sundown a mere two hours prior. Your powers were no match for the natural protection of the earth. The both of you had a long night ahead of yourselves.
So he used his ability. Yoongi gave you control- rational thought, rather. His gift allowed him to grant organization of the mind and precise focus to others, but he could also take it away.
Upon entering your home, he began the process of slowly but surely ebbing away your barriers and logical thought- he couldn’t do it too fast or else you would panic like you were now. With a presently impossible-to-kill human whose heart was beating out of her chest and a command to not kill you forcing him into submission, he was obligated to prevent you from having a heart attack that was caused by him.
With laser-like focus, he channeled his gift straight into your open mind. Yoongi rebuilt the walls he had previously broken down over the past few hours, restocked your jumbled thoughts into their proper spaces, and flowed his energy through each corridor of judicious conception so that you could continue to develop your focus into that of supernatural proportion. He hoped that you, with a new mind, would tell him to get away from you and to kill himself. Dying by the hands of such a robust ability wouldn’t be too bad of a way to go.
You, however, never had such a decisive mind. Your mind was never clearer and you had never felt such clarity in your thoughts before. It allowed you to feel the magnetism that he radiated.
You knew he was a vampire. You don’t remember how you knew or how you recognized it, but you knew that he was not the first of his kind you had come across. Maybe it was the obvious fangs that gave it away.
“Yoongi,” You whispered. “You’re a vampire.”
His eyes, now back to their normal gorgeously coffee-bean shade, flicked up to yours in surprise.
“You know what I am?” He spluttered, flabbergasted. “You don’t think I’m a demon? Or the devil?”
“I’m not stupid. I know a vampire when I see one.” Your tone did not waver nor shake despite being a potential victim to a vampire. Was it the adrenaline?
“Then you know that I am a danger to you.” He said lowly, shock still evident on his face, while he began gravitating towards your bedroom door to leave.
“No. Stay.” You found yourself pining for his presence while he froze up in his spot. You eyed the action analytically. “If you were a danger to me, I wouldn’t be alive right now. You had plenty opportunity to kill me.”
“That’s the thing,” His hands pressed to the wall and scratched into it with the effort to move further from you. “I don’t have much of a choice anymore.”
“And why is that?” You relaxed your body and slowly slid your way across the bed towards him.
“Because I can’t.” Yoongi actually gasped for air as you stood from your bed to slowly approach him. “Y/N. Don’t come near me.”
“Why don’t you have a choice?” You ignored his warning, fully aware of the risk you were taking yet uncaring of the consequences. You were too focused on the fact that you actually wanted him.
Yoongi could not move from his spot, a side effect of your command to stay, but he refused to meet your eyes. The irresistible scent of your blood clashing with the order to not kill you fucked with his mind in ways he never experienced, creating an excruciatingly splitting headache between his temples. He wanted to drink from you so bad yet he could not move a single muscle.
“You can tell me to do anything. You can tell me to stay away from you. You can tell me to leave you alone. Hell, you can tell me to kill myself and I’d do it.” He ground out, attempting to press his back further into the wall as he felt your body heat against his skin. You came too close. He could smell your hormones lacing through your blood, triggering a wash of his shi over his dry tongue and a yearning to tear you apart overriding his senses.
He wanted to sink his fangs into your flesh so badly that he was beginning to scare himself. Allowing his venom to seep into your system would undoubtedly send you into ecstasy; you would only feel a pinch of pain as his saliva instantly burned through your nerves and set them alight. He could kill you while you were in pleasure; you wouldn’t feel anything but bliss as he drained the life from you.
“And why do you, a powerful creature such as yourself, allow me to have this power over you?” You asked. Was he in love with you? You definitely could love the man with how much you felt drawn to him but, for crying out loud, it had only been a few weeks.
“I don’t allow it. You are a gifted human. You possess this power over me.” Although Yoongi enjoyed having a calm conversation with you, he couldn’t help but feel bad that he used his gift on you. It was almost an unfair playing card- a “get-out-of-jail” card.
Because you should be running, terrified and screaming, even with his ability active in your mind. Maybe he had used it too much? Yoongi recalled the one time he went overboard with his gift, driving a man to suicide as he focused too much on the meaning of life and the regretful things he had done. Immediately concerned, Yoongi reached out a mental tether- a rare talent amongst his kind- to gauge your stability.
What he found, instead, was a dark and curling line attaching to his, pulling it in as quickly as Yoongi offered it. Before he could reel back away from it, it was fully intertwined and pulling his line to attach to you, only to rear back and completely obliterate his senses when it entered his head.
No. No no no. It’s impossible.
Yoongi was moving forward and caging you against the bed at full speed before he could stop himself, nestling his body between your eagerly opening legs as a hiss escaped his lips. Immediately, he realized that he broke through your command unwavered. The thirst came back at full force when you moaned from the friction on your heat.
“You’re-“ He tested the sensation of true, sexual arousal with a slow grind of himself into you, gasping with a jerk of his dick when his action squeezed his member between his body and yours. “You’re my-“
You moaned again, sitting up slightly to try and capture his lips with your own, unable to control the desire that surmounted in your heart. When he resumed his look of shock, backing away from your advance so that he could look at where your bodies touched, you spoke through the heady emotion. “I’m your what?”
“It can’t be.” He whispered. After a single beat, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours with a crushing pressure that split your lip instantly.
The pain seared across your bottom lip and distracted you for a moment, emitting a groan deep in your throat that he matched when the taste of your blood exploded onto his tastebuds. Instead of swallowing it like he wanted to, he brought a hand to your chin and opened your lips to spit your blood, along with his venom, back into your mouth so that it would take your pain away.
For a moment, you held the mix of liquids on your tongue, unsure of what to do as no one had ever spit in your mouth before. You looked up to him with confusion extremely evident in your arched brows.
“Swallow it.” He growled.
The taste of iron and an almost sugary sweet tang of saliva was too strong for you to keep sitting on your tongue, so you did as he told you to before he kissed you again to repeat the same action. Slowly, you got into the rhythm of swallowing what he gave you.
Before long, he simply gave you his tongue, allowing you to suck the saliva from his mouth greedily. You didn’t understand why, but the taste was addicting and adding to the pulsing feeling that radiated between your legs. Were you getting lightheaded? No. This sensation was much more blissful and exciting.
He pulled away after sucking on your wounded lip once more, spitting the mixture into your awaiting mouth for a final time before sitting up to look down at your body.
His venom was already taking effect. He could smell it on your skin as it flowed through your veins and filled your system just like a virus would. It would be simple to turn you at this point. You would be his for eternity, bonded to him in ways only the Fated One of a vampire would. Yoongi shook the thought from his head as he wasn’t even sure that you were, indeed, his.
“What am I to you?” You asked genuinely, swollen lip slightly obstructing your speech.
“Don’t worry about that right now, Y/N. Right now, I am going to fuck you, okay?” He met your gaze with his dark eyes filled with confidence, knowing that you would be unable to deny him if his belief was true.
“Yes. Yes, please Yoongi.” You breathed, begging him almost drunkenly. “Please. I’m yours.”
His mind was nudged forward by a different force this time, warranting unknown instincts to play into action.
He felt his center of gravity shift. His skin grew tight and uncomfortable around his body from the emotion that wished to burst through the surface. He breathed with you. Perfectly aligned were your rhythms; his heart soared alongside your own galloping one, desperate to match you in every aspect. The sensations in his body were difficult to ignore as he felt the ancient and sacred pull of a bond lacing itself through his limbs.
Instead of pondering over the reality of it any further, he slid his hand from your chin to your shirt and pinched the fabric between his fingers. You nodded in reassurance.
Your clothes tore form your body like paper. Wrapping his fingers around your arm to keep your body in place, Yoongi ripped your thin blouse from you easily. Your breasts, made plump by the bra you wore, caught his attention the moment they were revealed. Perfect.
Instead of looking like a moron seeing exquisite breasts for the first time, he moved his hand to your dress pants so that he could rid your body of them. In under ten seconds, Yoongi had you almost bare below him. Perfect.
Not even realizing it until you brought your thumb to his lips to swipe his shi from the corner of his mouth, Yoongi shook his head at the fact that the sight of you wriggling and bare-skinned beneath him made him literally drool, but his instincts went haywire when he watched you place your thumb in your mouth to suck his venom off yourself with a low moan of appreciation at the taste.
Yoongi’s hands couldn’t move faster as he tore the clothes from his body, stripping himself bare to reveal himself to you. He wanted to give you everything. To open his mind and spread everything out for you to see- he hoped you could handle it.
You, on the other hand, were laying below him with the desperate need to have him inside you.
You wanted him everywhere. You wanted him to sink himself into you- it seemed to be the only fathomable option. You wanted him to hold you and kiss you and surround you with everything him.
As you stared up at him with a needy look in your eyes, you couldn’t help but want him in every facet possible.
You saw yourself making love to him, holding him, kissing him- loving him. The new sensation brought on you by the psychic connection- that was all you could call it when you felt the mental attachment- brung passionate emotions through your body in an onslaught that you could barely handle. It was too much to deal with without him inside you to be with you through it yet you didn’t know if you could handle what would follow.
Yoongi could smell you through your panties; a delicious scent of the most raw tease he had ever allowed himself to indulge in. Unable to help himself, he moved down your body quickly, throwing your legs open- rather roughly- to give himself room to press his nose straight into your heat. Your aroma filled his nose as he expanded his lungs, triggering his natural instincts to push out his fangs and load his vision with blood to enhance it despite his eyes being closed. Fuck, he wanted to consume you.
You keened at the contact, closing your thighs around his head to trap him there. You felt his groan vibrate on you, driving you closer to the brink of insanity.
Without any further time wasted, he grabbed onto your panties and ripped them from you to expose your pulsating pussy to his mouth without moving his nose away from your intoxicating scent. Not a beat passed before he dug his tongue into you to scoop up your DNA-laced juices. Fuck.
Yoongi lost himself in you immediately. You whined out a small cry, unable to keep yourself from grabbing onto his hair and yanking when all you felt were his lips and tongue laving over your opening relentlessly. There was no skill nor technique in his movements; he was simply devouring you without a mind to pay attention to your bundle, yet you couldn’t stop the sensitivity from boggling your mind and driving you to an instant orgasm.
His hands squeezed your thighs around his head and, for a brief moment, he opened his eyes to look at you. The color of his eyes staring back at you was unexpected- a solid, snow white color filled his orbs and contrasted starkly with the red hue of his engorged veins and bloodshot scleras.
“Yoongi,” You whimpered from another swipe of his tongue and suck from his lips. “Y-Your eyes.”
He pulled away from you instantly at the comment, eyes widening and wet mouth hanging agape, while you let out a groan of relief- or sadness- at the lack of attention to your incredibly sensitive core.
“What color are they?” He asked.
“White.” You struggled to speak, voice cracking under the post-orgasm glow.
He took a moment to look down at your heaving body and messy pussy, jerking forward slightly at the sight of your delicious juice smeared all over your thighs. Once he had a handle on his thirst again, Yoongi met your eyes as the white faded from his irises. “Then you are her.”
“I’m who?” You reached for him, needing to hold him anywhere you could get your hands on. Yoongi caught this action immediately, the same desire to grasp you evident in his hand rushing to meet yours. It was natural to intertwine your fingers while he leaned over you to press his lips to yours in a short, uncharacteristically loving kiss.
“You are my Fated One- my mate. You hold my soul in the palm of your hand, as I do yours.” He murmured, feathering his lips over yours as he spoke.
Under normal circumstances, you don’t think you’d be able to comprehend his words with your current position with him. You were exposed to him and he was exposed to you, making you feel vulnerable and turned on beyond belief. Yoongi was reaching behind you to unclasp your bra while you took in what he had said. His thumb was brushing over your bare nipple before your bra even hit the floor.
“So-” You had to clear your throat again. “So you’re mine? Like, completely?”
He chuckled warmly at your question and you couldn’t stop yourself from reciprocating the smile.
“Yes, Y/N, I am yours.” He brought his hand down to grip your thigh and move it to the side. “I belong to you.”
Yoongi placed his dick against your folds and you watched him so do. You felt his tip capture onto your clit several times as he lathered it with your arousal languidly, preparing himself so that he could slide into you easier. “However,”
“However?” You looked up at him with a questioning look accentuated by your eyebrows.
“You are also mine.” Yoongi stopped his movement so that the head of his cock finally caught onto your opening, kickstarting your heart into a pace that you were afraid would kill you. “Do you understand that?”
He didn’t wait for you to answer.
Torturously, he began to push inside you. You widened your legs to accompany his approaching hips. As you warbled out a cry when he decided to drop his control and fill you completely in the next second, Yoongi began speaking again.
“Do you understand that everything about you,” He reared back and pushed inside you again, forcing your legs open to take him while he did so. “-is mine?”
You couldn’t respond. Your emotions were running rampant with your mind overflowing from too much stimuli while he fucked you. He spoke again without your reply and you could only pull him closer to you and take the feeling of his cock caressing your insides.
“Your lips,” Thrust. “your eyes,” Thrust. “your hair, your hands, your skin;” He punctuated each part of your body with a ram of his dick into you. “Everything, Y/N.”
Yoongi took a moment to look down at your joining bodies, smirking softly at the sight of how easily he slid inside. “-Especially this greedy little cunt of yours.”
You watched his smirk drop while he bit his lip and ground himself into you, lips parting again with a low moan whilst keeping his gaze transfixed on the sinful sight. You watched him in awe as his cock plunged so deep that it felt like it was in your throat.
He snapped his eyes to yours quickly, repeating his prior question. “Do you understand?”
Expecting to be interrupted by a thrust, you sucked your bottom lip in your mouth and braced yourself, only to be grabbed by the neck while he leaned down to bring you face-to-face. You could no longer breathe as he pulled his lips back to reveal his fangs. “I asked you if you understood, Y/N.”
With your airway restricted, you could only nod with your lip still stuck between your teeth. Did you taste blood? Promptly, you remembered that Yoongi busted your lip, yet you were confused as to why you hadn’t felt the pain of it since he first kissed you.
“And are you okay with that?” Yoongi began to nose his way down your neck once he turned your head to the side and slowed the rhythm of his hips. Right before you could answer, he released your neck to look at your face, allowing a large rush of air to enter your lungs just as you were attempting to give him an answer.
“Yes!” You released your lip to scream out at the welcome sensation of oxygen and the feel of his dick pushing it right back out of you. “I’m yours! Everything is yours!”
“Good, my love. Good.” He whispered, smiling down at you. His smile was wiped clean off his face in a heartbeat, his thrusts into you completely ceased, as he zeroed in on your lips. You licked them subconsciously, immediately tasting blood and internally cringing at the flavor of iron coating your tongue.
Yoongi attached his lips around your bottom one quickly and you felt him suck it into his mouth. Your walls squeezed tightly around his at the sensation of his tongue swiping over the spli in your engorged lip again and again. You knew that your lip would be swollen yet you couldn’t find yourself to care because it, surprisingly, didn’t hurt at all. The small bits of Yoongi’s saliva that slipped into your mouth were enough to keep you on edge, tasting like raw sugar at that point.
He began moving inside you again, starting a slow and steady pace. You whimpered into his mouth as he began taking his fill of your blood and you mirrored his thirst with the need to taste his mouth again. Your lips pressed closer to his in order to, hopefully, get a bit more of his spit.
You felt your orgasm building laggardly. It was creeping in at a speed that you were able to prepare yourself for your ascent towards ecstasy. You tightened your legs around his waist and dug your heels into the globes of his ass, pulling him in.
It wasn’t until you were bordering on your climax that Yoongi pulled away from your lip with your pop and sat up to focus on fucking you, his peace of mind obviously waning.
You saw it in his face; you saw the way he couldn’t control his veins from darkening his face; you saw the way his eyes burned white and the way he was attempting to hold himself back from attacking you.
So you did him a favor.
“Yoongi.” You mumbled past your swollen lip. “Bite me.”
Min Yoongi had no option but to obey your command.
He surged forward, pressing himself against your clit deliciously and bottoming out as he lunged for your neck with his fangs fully protruded and a warbled hiss scratching its way out of his throat. With barely enough time to prepare, you bared your neck to him once more and clutched onto his arms for dear life, hoping it wouldn’t hurt too bad.
What you weren’t expecting was for it to feel unreservedly good.
The sensation took you by surprise, warranting a loud moan to escape from your lips before you could stop it. Why did his fangs feel so good in your flesh? It should definitely be hurting. But all you could do was moan and whine like a madwoman as you felt his lips close over the puncture wounds and begin to drink your blood straight from your flesh. His tongue continuously swiped over the teeth marks in your neck, keeping them clear from your body’s natural ability to scar itself and begin blocking the escaping blood. Every lick he delivered sent a pulse straight to your clit and an automatic instinct to tighten yourself around him.
Your pussy quivered around him uncontrollably. You were so close to cumming that you could practically taste the release on your tongue. In the few moments that Yoongi took his sips from your body, his slow propulsions forward into you had become more rough and insistent- as if he was trying to split you in two. Even as you felt your life essence leave your body, you were being filled time and time again by his cock at a deep and passionate rhythm.
At the first sign of getting lightheaded from blood loss, you came- hard.
Your juices squirted around him every time he reared himself back and your eyes rolled to the back of your head while you craned your neck back into your very-bloody pillow. With no where to go, unable to still him with his supernatural strength, you were only able scream out his name.
His speed increased through your orgasm and your sweet exclamations of pure bliss drove Yoongi into a lunatic, freeing himself of control and using his uncanny speed to fuck into you. Your extremely drenched pussy, still convulsing around him was battered and raw, yet he could not find it in himself to care as he desperately surged into you over and over again so that he could fill you with the cum of several centuries. Picturing the image of your cunt spewing his release from it had him closing his jaws and pulling on your wounds harder to get more blood from you.
He knew that he couldn’t drain you. Hearing the pulse of your heart weaken slightly was enough to make him detach his teeth and lick over your wound so that his shi could assist it in healing- it would be completely sealed and unblemished in the next few hours. Instead of worrying too much about your neck, he reared back to look down at you again while he grabbed onto your hips with fervor.
You saw the drops of blood running down from Yoongi’s mouth and chin drip onto your breasts and stomach, creating an erotic and utterly unwholesome image of carnage and horror on your body, but you were unable to help yourself in feeling unsettlingly drawn to the wicked image. With a new flash of desire exploding through your body and reawakening your lust, you reached up and grabbed his neck, pulling him back down to trap him in your embrace.
The oversensitivity of your last orgasm was enough to send you hurtling to the edge of another orgasm- You just needed his fangs in you one more time. Silently begging for it, you kept your grip on his nape and softly nudged him back in the direction of your neck.
Yoongi was close. You could tell. But even past his stupor, he spoke.
“Y/N. I can’t. I took too much.” He almost whined with need, struggling to form words past his fangs.
“Just-“ Your body jolted wildly as he desperately tried to cum. “Just do it!”
Yoongi was able to deny your command, which he figured was due to not being a specific one, yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave it unanswered as his body built in preparation to release.
“I fucking can’t!” He was close to roaring at this point, gums aching to meet your flesh as he pressed his fangs into you and filled you with his essence. He wanted to so badly.
“Drink from me, dammit!” Your eyes were welling with tears of frustration, needing that small push from him to make you orgasm again- his dick hammering your cervix was too much to handle without that small bit of pain to ground you. And without hesitation nor the choice to deny you, he did.
Your orgasms were perfectly in sync as he placed his fangs back into your wounds, delicious blood spilling across his tongue once again. Liquid life. It was the perfect few words for how you tasted.
Your pussy ached with the force of how tight you squeezed around him and Yoongi groaned lowly against your neck as he pressed himself so tightly to you that you knew his hands would be leaving bruises on your hips and ass.
“Yoongi.” You sobbed as his cum filled you, pulsing spurt after warm spurt of the hot liquid onto your abused cervix. The thought of him taking your blood while he gave you his cum was too sinful for you to bear, an outburst of emotion causing you to chant his name over and over again. Never before in your life had you felt so complete and free.
You could feel your blood levels draining as you slowly came down from your climax, knowing that you would not be awake for much longer if he kept drinking.
“That’s enough.” You whispered tiredly, head becoming truly lightheaded. Yoongi, unable to rescind his teeth from your neck, kept drinking from you as the thirst and aggression of the first mating actuated his movements. “Yoongi.”
He tried to pull away- he really did- but the feeling of your blood coating his tastebuds was like finding a quarry in the middle of the Sahara Desert. He lacked the true thirst for humans for thousands of years- and now he was suffering the polydipsia for blood all over again.
“Yoongi, stop.” You commanded, testing your supposed ‘power.’
Yoongi ceased to drink from you yet his fangs were still embedded in your skin, vibrating with pleasure and need. As he stopped, he couldn’t help but whine and then growl savagely with want. The vibration of of his throaty sound in your flesh did things to your body. Unable to resist the temptation, your body clenched involuntarily around his softening cock.
Yoongi groaned again, retracting his fangs and face from your neck, and sat up once more to look at your body. With a slow hand, he stuck out his index and middle finger to smear the droplets of blood on your stomach in small circles aimlessly, picturing you as a canvas made just for him to ruin. “You’re quite the minx, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean?” You giggled deliriously, needing sleep as soon as possible.
“I mean,” Yoongi reached down to smear a droplet of blood across your hip before digging his thumb and fingers into the bone and the flesh of your ass harshly. “Your cunt is playing games with me right now.”
“How so?” You tilted your head to the side in mock confusion.
The vampire pressed his lips into a thin line and sighed almost disdainfully. You gasped as you felt his dick jerk within you, filling to stiffness once more and awakening a new cloud of lust despite the exhaustion you felt. “Well, if you want to play clueless, you can play clueless. We have eternity to teach you how to not play games with me, my mate.”
For eternity? You kind of liked the sound of that.
~#~
If you’d like to read more of my work, feel free to check out my Series Masterlist! If you’d like to read my first fic, check out the DHYB Masterlist!
#min yoongi#vampire!yoongi#vampire!bts#bts#bts fic#yoongi x reader#bts fanfic#yoongi fic#yoongi smut#bangtan sonyeondan#bangtan network#network bangtan#bangtanarmynet#bangtan#yoongi#bts min yoongi#bts vampire au#fanfic#bts suga#bts smut#smut#jung hoseok#jeon jungkook#kim seokjin#kim taehyung#kim namjoon#park jimin
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Fierce deity wars aftermath? :o (I'm sorry if this comes across as demanding or rude, was just excited to see the fic and was curious how what happened after might go, it was really good!)
this isn't rude at all, my friend! i'm flattered you enjoyed my fic enough to ask for a follow-up! thank you ;w;
this picks up right where the previous one left off (here's the first part)
"Injuries?"
"Nothing major."
Voices drift through the dreamless void, which clings to Warriors like cobwebs: wispy, malleable, adhesive.
"Is he awake?"
"Maybe. Not aware, at any rate."
The words seem insubstantial, impossible to grasp, like specks of light.
"Captain? Can you hear me?"
"Time to wake up, Pretty Boy."
Like a borealis, the voices shimmer above him. Though tangible, they shy from his reach.
Warriors concentrates on forcing his eyes open, and his lashes scrape against red cotton.
"Hey, Captain? You with us?"
The stench of death saturates the air, so he must still be on the battlefield. He tries to lift his head, to see his surroundings, but all he glimpses is red.
"Hey. Pretty Boy. You awake?"
Still, he pieces it together by feel. His side is pressed against someone. His head is lolling on their shoulder. Their arm is around his back, fiercely gripping his sleeve.
"Captain, can you look at me?"
He's being held. Huh. That's a nice feeling, being held. Safe. His eyes begin to slip closed again.
"No, Captain. Stay awake. Look at me."
Always one to obey orders, he drags his head around a fraction, searching for the source of the voice. His vision is blurry, but he can see a green tunic, brown hair. The Traveler.
Something cool brushes against his hand. Glass. A bottle. His fingers automatically hook around it. Something warm wraps around his hand, affixes it in place.
"Drink this for me, okay?"
Warriors' bones are infused with lead. He watches the Traveler guide the potion to his mouth, but his body won't cooperate. His throat muscles seize, and he coughs out the liquid. It speckles across the red tunic he's cuddled up against.
"Don't make him choke!" someone outside his line of vision squawks. That's the Sailor. He knows the little Sailor's voice.
"Sorry," Hyrule laments, and cups a hand under Warriors' chin, tilts his head back. Tries again with the bottle.
This time, Warriors downs two gulps before his throat locks up and he coughs out the rest of it.
"You're getting my tunic wet." A gripe, but the grip on his arm tightens, protective. The Vet. That's the Vet, holding him. Red tunic. Right.
A thought emerges from his mental haze. Twilight. Hadn't he been with Twilight? Warriors wishes he could ask, but he's so tired. He closes his eyes again, sinks back into the void where his friends' voices echo around him. It reminds him of being trapped in the Great Fairy's bottle, the way everything is muffled and obscured and looming.
Warriors lets their voices wash over him, idly picking out words when he can and examining them like puzzles in need of solving.
"There's caves that way, half a mile or so."
"He can't walk."
"I can carry him."
"No. Traveler's magic may have stitched your wounds up, but your body still needs time to recover."
"Here, I can do it."
There are hands on him, and he's getting shifted around, and he wishes he could move. Instead, he completely retreats to the empty dark space in his head.
Then the concept of time becomes as ephemeral and elusive as his friends' voices around him.
Sometimes when Warriors opens his eyes, there's sunlight, and sometimes there's only the hazy glow of embers or the flicker of a lantern. He can't shrug off the mental mire that pins him down, can't ever keep his eyes open long enough to fully process where he is or what's going on.
That would feel more disconcerting if not for the constant, comforting presence of his friends. One of them is always right at his side when he wakes. The little Sailor, snuggled against him. Sky, carving wooden figurines. Four, polishing weapons. Even as he slides back into the dreamless dark, he feels safe.
That is, until the dark stops being dreamless.
Memories begin to unravel before him, unspooling into formless shapes and colors. At first, all he can see is blood-drenched chaos; he hears dying screams and clanking weapons, smells copper and iron. Slowly, the memories come into focus, draw together into distinct scenes. He can distinguish certain moments: a lizalfos sliced in half at the waist; a darknut's chopped-off head thunking to the dirt; a bulbin slipping on spilled moblin guts as it tries to run, then shrieking as it gets skewered.
These memories aren't his, per se; they belong to his body. His body, which he can see morph into someone else's. His hands, which are someone else's hands, brandishing a double-helix sword that cuts through monsters with no resistance.
Although Warriors has witnessed much more gruesome atrocities, these memories steep him with burgeoning unease. The violent images burrow under his skin like termites, boring tunnels into him from the inside out, as he watches them play in a loop, over and over. They continuously reignite in the dark like poe lanterns, haunting and undead.
Oblivion shifts from a refuge to a prison. Warriors starts to jolt awake with startled gasps, his terror wrenching him back into consciousness. In these moments, he often finds Time next to him, stroking his hair, murmuring soothing platitudes that Warriors can't hear over his pounding heart.
Once, he lurches awake with a shout, wide-eyed and shuddering as detailed visions of massacre still float through his head. Time gently shushes him, tucks him back into his bedroll, and pulls out the banged-up wooden ocarina he used to play as a child.
Warriors curls up on his side, hearing the distant whispers of rainfall beneath the unfamiliar melody that Time plays. The tune is wistful and haunted, layered with tragedy, like its player. But it massages away the tension rigidifying Warriors' muscles, calms the frantic adrenaline buzzing through his system. When he falls asleep, he doesn't dream anymore.
- - -
Sighing with relief, Warriors slumps back against the door. The past few days, he's managed to stay awake for longer and longer stretches, but constant fatigue still holds him hostage. Finding a town with an inn feels like a miracle, and even though he could easily collapse right here on the floor, he is eager to finally sleep in a real bed.
With effort, he straightens and shrugs off his shield, sword, and bags, depositing them by the nearest bed. The weight of his equipment has never felt so burdensome before; he's concerned that this debilitating exhaustion is atrophying his muscles and permanently docking his stamina.
But like every thought lately, he can't keep hold of his concerns for too long. They slip away from him, and he gladly lets them go, concentrating instead on the unnecessarily arduous task of shucking all his armor.
As he loosens the leather bracers on his arms, Warriors absently scans the compact rented room, which only contains two twin beds and a shabby dresser. He blinks at the dresser mirror, freezing as he registers his reflection.
Armor temporarily forgotten, Warriors strides across the tacky rug and splays his hands on the dresser. Most mornings, he spends what the others consider an unreasonable amount of time fawning over his hair in his hand mirror—personally, he thinks none of them spend enough time on making themselves presentable—but lately, he's forgone that ritual, only casting cursory glances at his reflection to ensure he's not overwhelmingly unkempt.
He hasn't gotten a proper look at himself in days, which is why the sight of the mask's red and blue brands give him such a shock.
Though their colors have already begun to fade, the sharply angled lines remain prominent. No wonder the other heroes, who have been treating him delicately, like he's liable to break, can't look at him without staring at those marks. What do they think, when they see them?
Warriors find them abhorrent. Finds that looking at them triggers unease and discomfort and nausea.
He turns away from the mirror and resumes removing his armor, gracelessly dumping it on the floor and topping the pile with his sloppily folded scarf. As he flops onto the bed, he sighs again, the relief of getting off his feet immediate and encompassing. The mattress is thin and there's a rogue spring jutting into his lower back, but goddesses, does it feel good to lie down.
Lazily, he drapes an arm over his eyes to block out the afternoon sunshine filtering in through the flimsy curtains. He doesn't feel sleepy, exactly, doesn't feel like he'll get dragged into unconscious oblivion like he was for several days right after donning the mask, but he truly is exhausted.
Physical exertion, sparse as it's been, contributes to Warriors’ fatigue. Progress across this Hyrule has been slow; the distance the heroes have covered over the past few days could be crossed, under normal circumstances, in half the time.
Warriors didn’t even walk for much of that distance. He couldn’t. Along with his sluggishness, his legs wobbled like a newborn deer’s and his sense of balance was skewed. Wind continually remained next to him, catching him when he stumbled and preventing him from toppling over.
When walking became too infeasible (and he was too tired to care about pride and dignity), he'd ride Epona. By that point, he'd usually feel so weak and shaky that he would require a boost from Twilight just to mount the horse, and from there it was a perpetual struggle to stay upright.
Fortunately, he's steadier now, able to walk without feeling constantly on the verge of collapse, but the fact that he is not okay is tremendously self-evident.
He hears the door to his room open and close, but he doesn't bother uncovering his eyes. He's certain it's just whoever decided to room with him this time—probably Wind or Legend—dropping their belongings off before venturing into town.
A lengthy moment passes before he recognizes the sound of heavy plate armor clinking. Moving his arm a fraction, he peeks out to see Time shedding his armor, setting it aside with more care than Warriors had mustered.
Warriors blinks in surprise. Time is the last person he expected to see here.
The other heroes' behavior around the Captain is subdued, and they speak to him quietly, like he's an animal prone to startle. They act so sad, he thinks now. Like they're grieving. Like they've lost something.
But Time... He was there for those horrid days when Warriors was drifting in and out of consciousness, trapped in nightmares, but ever since then, he's kept a distance. He won't even look at Warriors most of the time.
It would be unfair for Warriors to be bothered by that, though. Like a coward, he's been reciprocating the cold shoulder treatment, because he can't bear it.
He can't bear thinking about his little Sprite using that cursed mask. How old was the kid when he first used it? And what was the aftermath like for him? Was he alone? Did he have someone to comfort him through the nightmares? To help him walk or tend his wounds?
How many times has Time used this mask for those marks to permanently smirch his face?Is the aftermath of using the mask always this dreadful? What if it's not, because Time has gotten used to the effects of the damn thing?
And if Warriors feels so strange after what must have been mere minutes with the mask on—if he feels like his very essence has been ripped apart and reassembled—if he feels like some of his pieces are missing, or that now there is something new inside him, something he can't quite identify or describe—then how must Time feel, having used the mask for decades?
How does it feel to sacrifice yourself over and over, to let an inconceivable power destroy and rebuild you however it pleases, and then carry that weight alone?
With his armor off, Time turns around and catches Warriors' gaze. His neutral expression doesn't change. "I thought you'd be asleep by now."
Warriors breaks eye contact, repositioning his arm over his eyes. Coward. "I thought you'd be making sure the kids don't set the town ablaze."
"I'm sure the Rancher can handle it."
For some reason, this statement pricks at Warriors' heart. "I know he's your favorite, Old Man, but don't misplace your faith. He can be as much of a troublemaker as the rest of them."
After a long stretch of quiet, Warriors feels the thin mattress sink. He peers under his elbow to see Time sitting at the foot of his bed, leaning forward, elbows on knees. Hands folded, he's looking at the opposite wall, expression still deliberately blank. "Is that what you think?"
"Yeah, I do. Didn't you hear his arson story?"
Time huffs a soft, startled laugh. "No, I meant...you believe he's my favorite?"
Warriors shifts, pulls his arm away from his face. "Well, yeah? It's not up for debate, is it? It's obvious."
"Hmm." Time looks down at his hands, and his mouth flickers between a slight smile and slight frown before settling on the latter. When he speaks again, it's stilted, like a formal recitation. "Captain, I owe you an apology. I've left you to deal with the mask's effects by yourself."
Dragging himself to a sitting position, Warriors says, "That's not true..."
He's suddenly struck by a vague memory of a recent night where he fell asleep as soon as the heroes found a campsite. Tired beyond caring, Warriors had promptly slid off Epona and settled in the dirt a few paces from the horse. Prone on his stomach, he pillowed his head with his arms, despite his bracers digging into his cheeks.
Later, Time roused him, herding him upright. He was still half-asleep, struggling to keep his eyes open, as Time worked on taking off his protective gear piece by piece. Warriors' chainmail had pressed grooves into his torso; it was a relief to have someone else guide the heavy armor over his head and set it aside.
"Come to your bedroll," Time had said softly, and he ushered Warriors into his sleeping mat, which lie ready and waiting. Exponentially more comfortable now, Warriors had dropped off to sleep almost instantly, but still, he registered Time gently tucking the blankets around him.
Weary, Time sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. "It is true. I've been selfish. I shouldn't have left you to figure this out on your own. I know how it feels. How...confusing it is. How strange it is, like your body isn't quite right anymore, or like you're not quite the same. How..."
He flexes his fingers, searching for his words, and a mournful look breaks through his stony facade. "How...broken it makes you feel."
After a silent, somber moment, Warriors shifts to sit next to Time, dropping his bare feet to the warped hardwood. The mattress creaks. He feels another damaged spring jabbing into him.
"I'm sorry that you've always had to handle this alone," Warriors says. A lump hardens in his throat, and he swallows. "I'm so sorry, Sprite."
Time looks at him then, really looks at him. Slowly scans the red and blue lines before re-locking eyes. He smiles, sad and small but genuine, and sets a hand on Warriors' shoulder. "I'm proud of you, you know. I've always been proud of you."
Warmth blossoms in his chest at the unexpected words, and Warriors has to turn away.
"Perhaps you should get some rest." The smile lingers in Time's voice. "We can talk when you wake up."
With Time's hand still on his shoulder, Warriors says, "I can stay up a little longer. I think we have a lot to talk about."
#catch me once again only hinting at emotional closure but not actually providing it :D#i gave time and wars a cute moment though#oh yeah ps. i like the idea that wars is a lil jealous of time and twi's relationship#like idk how true to character that is#but i like it#linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu#lu warriors#warriors#lu time#time#fanfic#anthem answers#anthem writes
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I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 14
And finally, it’s doooone ! Forgive me for the wait 💕
Chapter 14 : I just stopped hoping for your awakening
- Andraste, is everything okay ? Nevra asked, somewhat surprised at my sudden reaction.
I was about to tell him that it was none of his business when the pain, much more throbbing, resumed again, literally cutting my breath. Without warning, panic started to take me over and it was with confusion that I stood up and dodged his piercing gaze as he remained leaning over me, being too ashamed to tell him everything that was wrong with me.
The vampire still maintained the idea of helping me to stand up completely and, when his hand finally let go of my shoulder, I immediately stepped back in order to establish sufficient distance between us, which didn’t escape him.
- Yes, it's nothing, I finally replied, feigned levity.
Falling back into the void, his hand remained inert along his side as his mouth opened and closed again without any sound coming out.
A wind much colder than before I fell asleep began to blow between us, causing my hair to fly and goosebumps on my bare arms. In order to warm myself up, I put my hands on them as the chills that ran through my skin burned my back unpleasantly.
I think my head was starting to spin.
- Are you sure everything is fine ? Didn't you hurt yourself somewhere or anything ?
- No, don't worry, I replied quickly. I hadn't planned to doze off here, the ground was too hard and I must have hurt a bit, but nothing serious.
I especially didn't want Nevra to know what was happening to me, I didn't think I would be able to bear this shame again in the eyes of another person.
Much to my dismay, the vampire didn't seem convinced. He took a step in my direction, reducing the distance I had deliberately created. An eyebrow raised, his gaze fell on mine.
- Do you know that I still know you by heart ? I can see you're in pain, there's no point in trying to hide it from me.
I breathed out as much air as possible against my poor acting skills. He would never let go, I was sure.
We had left each other angry earlier, though, so why didn't he take his eyes off me right now ? I felt confused, I didn't know how to react.
What's more, I had to admit that I was seriously starting to wonder if constantly blowing hot and cold wasn’t an Eldaryan custom.
Or maybe I was drawn to complicated relationships, who knows.
- Really, it's my luck, I said ironically. So you decided that I existed in your eyes, today ?
His features imperceptibly hardened as his gaze darkened so quickly that I thought I was dreaming for a moment.
- Andraste...
- What Nevra ? Are you going to tell me to pretend nothing has happened ? I was starting to get carried away. It's all well and good to behave towards me as you see fit, but it doesn't work that way.
It was his turn to exhale for a long time. Coming even closer, he took me completely by surprise, lowering his head until he came to rest his forehead against my shoulder, his dark hair brushing my shoulder blade. I remained frozen in place, unable to make the slightest movement as his breath caressed my skin.
I could no longer get my ideas clear.
- Listen, I don't know how to behave when I see you anymore, he finally blurted out, his voice slightly muffled by his probably uncomfortable position. You were the center of my world and overnight I had to relearn how to evolve without you by my side. Everyone was only talking about your sacrifice, he almost spat, but all I wanted was for you to come back to me.
He slowly lifted his head from my shoulder and came back to fix his gaze on mine. I was hanging from his lips, totally mesmerized by the words he finally addressed to me.
- Every day, for a little over a year, I didn’t stop making this wish, however selfish. Sometimes I would spend hours watching you, convincing myself that at any moment you were going to wake up. Except that it never happened, he added quietly, as if saying it out loud could shatter the dreams of this memory of him. I ended up decreasing over time my visits to the Crystal Room, I could no longer distinguish a vague sleeping figure. So to protect myself, I think I just stopped hoping for you to wake up.
The emotion Nevra was feeling at that moment overwhelmed me. I suspected that he must have suffered from this situation, but given his behavior towards me since I woke up, I had difficulty in realizing how he felt. On the other hand, I hadn’t imagined for a single second that it could still affect him at this point now.
- I didn't know all this, Nevra, you never told me about it until now. I never imagined you could feel this, I'm so sorry...
A wistful smile appeared on his lips.
- It's in the past now, even if I don't hide from you that I thought I had serious hallucinations when I saw you again.
Following these words, the vampire leaned down until his face was only inches from mine, allowing me to admire his scarred gaze under his thick black hair.
- I was a complete idiot to you, Andraste. I only took my feelings into account regardless of yours, but it was the only way I found to protect myself again. I'm terribly sorry, you absolutely don’t deserve this indifference, he confessed to me while placing a light and icy hand on my cheek. I hope you will forgive me.
Nevra was standing close, way too close for my breathing to calm down. I swallowed the air with more and more difficulty and, seized by strong emotions, the currents of energy began to circulate again in anarchy under my skin.
The young man finally withdrew his hand before standing up to his full height. Looking up at the sky, he quickly returned to plant them in mine with deep attention.
- Night has almost fallen, we better get back to HQ, he said softly.
I nodded and turned in the direction of HQ when his hand grabbed my arm the same way it had several hours earlier.
I was taken aback to find that his face had suddenly closed completely, brows furrowed.
- You're bleeding, what's happening to you ?
I widened my eyes.
- What ?
- I can smell your blood, it's not normal, he explained to me while making me rotate back to him.
Instinctively, I slapped a hand on the small of my back as my fingers slid over the thick streaks of liquid that flowed against my top.
No.
Not now, it wasn’t possible.
Nevra only took a fraction of a second to react when he saw my fingers red with hemoglobin.
A strong concern marked the tone of his voice as he spoke again :
- What's the matter with your back ? You tell me that everything has been fine since earlier, and now you start to piss blood !
- It's nothing serious, I promise. I just have to go see Eweleïn, she'll know what to do.
I still had the words he'd had when he saw me come out of the infirmary, but I think I just had no choice but to have to go back.
- I'll take you there immediately.
Binding action to word, he grabbed me under the knees and lifted me off the ground to carry me in his arms. The journey was surprisingly short to the entrance of the large building of the HQ while the abundant loss of blood finally got the better of my lucidity.
When they reached the door of the infirmary, Nevra began to pound forcefully on the door. It opened wide, revealing an Eweleïn with suddenly astonished features.
- Nevra, what happened to her ?
The vampire quickly explained the facts to her as he laid me down on the bed. The ground was turning dangerously, or maybe it was just my head that couldn't follow.
- Turn around, the nurse ordered him with authority, before leaning over me. Andraste, we're going to have to take this garment off.
I let her withdraw my sticky top without flinching before falling into a deep sleep.
*
I blinked several times in an attempt to focus, only seeing blurry elements around me. It was far from the first time I had woken up in this bed in the past few days and it made my lips pursed in frustration.
How did I end up in the infirmary again ?
Head heavy, I struggled to sit up on the soft mattress, looking for any sign of life in the room. But no one seemed to be standing here. Swallowing my saliva with difficulty, I realized that my throat was so dry that no sound could have come out anyway immediately, I felt like I had swallowed razor blades.
Feeling obstructed, I lifted my top and found a large bandage wrapped around my chest, with red spots marking the fabric as far as I could see. I was really hoping that my miraculous healing system had reactivated, like the time my stomach wound closed on its own in a very short time, because I wasn’t going to put up with this situation much longer. Moving slightly, I noticed that the pain had practically disappeared. I lowered the garment over my wounds then stood up slowly. The world was still spinning a little too fast for my liking, but I felt fit to get out of here.
I was finishing putting on my shoes when the door finally opened, revealing a long white hair in my field of vision.
- Oh hello Andraste, you're finally awake. How do you feel ? the elf asked with a soft smile.
- Hello Ewe, I think I’m okay. I’m not feeling at my best, but I’m no longer in pain.
- Perfect, I'll give you a quick test but I think you're fit to go out.
Sitting back on the bed, I let the nurse auscultate me without batting an eyelid.
- Your back is much better, even your skin has started to reform normally. I hope this story of stuck wings will get better soon.
- Oh reassure you, I hope so too, I said in a mirthless laugh. Can I go, now ?
- Yes, just a second.
She grabbed the same jar of cream as the last time and handed it to me, a smile on her lips.
- Here, you’ll have to brush your back with this until your skin is better.
- Very good, but it may be rather complicated, since it’s not an area necessarily accessible for me...
I saw Eweleïn's smile widen even more.
- Oh, I understood that someone could take care of it for you, but if it doesn't, you just have to come see me and I'll take care of it.
I narrowed my eyes at her suspicious expression.
- What are you talking about ?
- Nothing at all, and hurry up to see me if it starts again, don't wait any longer to bleed ! Come on, go, she ordered me with a wink.
Too tired to try to understand, I opened the door to rush into the hallway. But how long had I slept, exactly ? It was still dark !
Entering the guard corridor, I walked past several doors until I reached Lance's room, just before mine. I paused for a moment, hesitating, observing thoughtfully the image of the dragon towering over it at full length. Was he busy, right now ?
Heart pounding, I was about to knock when my arm caught in the air.
I didn't have to turn around to see who it was, letting myself be completely taken in by his mere presence.
- Good evening, my little dragon, his voice whispered with an amused grin.
Light streaks of ice were already drawing a multitude of abstract shapes on my skin as my lips stretched on their own.
Giving way to a huge smile on my face.
(Chapter 15)
#eldarya#eldarya new era#i am not your enemy#eldarya lance#lance eldarya#lance#eldarya the origins#ashkore#beemoov#eldarya fanfic#eldarya ane#eldarya fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction
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BINDING BONDS | 11
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parings: jung jaehyun x reader
genre: ceo!au, arranged marriage!au, angst, asshole Jaehyun, swearing
[ ☽ smut | ◇ angst (mental health, therapy) | ☼ fluff ]
note: BB deals with themes of mental and physical abuse, which can be upsetting for some readers. If you feel uncomfortable reading these types of plots, you are advised to not continue. MINORS, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, but I advise you to skip the sexual parts.
[ 10.7 words ]
The brisk winter wind pierces your cheeks and flows past your hair as you look at the view in front of you, the door to your balcony slightly opened. The distant image of the Eiffel Tower illuminates the city below your feet bringing bittersweet memories from long ago. It’s been five years. Five years since you felt his touch, funny how you could still feel his fingertips between other men you decided to indulge yourself in. It made it hard to stay until the sun rose. You hated yourself for it, but how else were you supposed to forget about the man who didn’t want to marry you? His ghost never left you, though. It followed you wherever you went, making you go crazy. That’s why you left the town where the love bloomed and broke, settling down in the city of love, how ironic. Your actions were always contradicting and it still is to this day.
In those five years, you quickly took over the CEO position of Audace, giving your mother the gift of early retirement. Into your first couple of years, you were listed Top 20 in Forbes Magazine, immediately gaining attention for your designs. You always reminded yourself to be humble whenever someone praises you for your work, you weren’t the only one with the hands behind the designs, of course.
Everything was the way it was supposed to be, you felt like the timeline had finally restored itself like it was your job to do so. You haven’t heard much about Jaehyun, you tried to avoid all news outlets about him as much as you could. But it was hard when the image of him would be spread across magazines, you figured that he did dip into the field of modeling, he was bound to with that beautiful face of his. You were roaming the streets of Paris when your eyes brisked over the stand that sold magazines, his face immediately catching your attention. You were proud of him, he looked like he was doing well, better. As you said, you steered away from the topic of him, afraid that maybe you still weren’t over him even if it’s been a couple of years.
News also came out that Jaehyun’s father was finally kicked out of Jung Corporations for his conviction of abuse, no matter how long ago it was, Jaehyun finally grew the courage to stand up to his father. Of course, the stocks plummeted, but with Jaehyun’s quick words of persuasion and work ethic, they soared the next year, earning Jung Corporation a spot on the Forbes Top 20, also. You remember smiling when you saw his company’s name on the same list as you, he did it.
As for the contract of your marriage, it was currently on hold, creating dust in its existence. As time moves on, your mother hopes that you can reopen the contract, but she knows that it’s more than that now, so she leaves it to you, since you’re presently the CEO of Audace and made all the decisions. You’d think that you’d shred that contract by now, but you haven’t. What’s been stopping you?
Jaehyun has made sure to spread his face on every single cover on a magazine, hoping that you’d come across it and come home to him. Ever since you left, he’s gotten no trace of you. He’d call you, text you, but got nothing. He quit trying the third year, thinking that you had blocked him or got a new phone number because he never heard an answer back. Jaehyun even reached out to Haewon and Mark, but they never got the answer he wanted because you never told your closest friends. Were you selfish to do that to them? Too bad that Haewon knew you too well to find out where you were, but trustworthy enough to seal her lips.
It took Jaehyun a long time to accept that you were gone, the memory of you felt like a dream to him. Waking up alone every morning brought anguish to him, the sun telling him that you never came back and that you probably never will. Sometimes he thinks he’s going insane because his memories of you are so distant.
That’s why he traveled to every possible country he’d assumed you’d be in, New York, Los Angeles, Tokyo, Shanghai, London, and even Paris. So when you heard the word of the newest, hottest bachelor was coming to Paris, you knew you’d have to go into hiding because the newest, hottest bachelor was your ex. Being on the cover of dozens of magazines sure had its perks, but for Jaehyun, all he wanted to do was find you. That’s why he left Paris after three weeks, thinking that you had for sure resided there. Which you had, you just didn’t have the courage to come out and face him. You sure did a hell of a good job erasing your existence from his world. You were stubborn, he’s always known that he just didn't know he’d have to go to these lengths to come to that conclusion.
Life went on like that, you two lived your separate lives like there wasn’t a string attached to your fingers, you felt like you two were always meant to say goodbye. Jaehyun has never dared to touch another, for you, and only you solely have his heart. He’d give it to you over and over again if it means getting hurt again. Of course, he didn’t know about your short-lived rendezvous because while you found your lust in other men, begging yourself to be open and find someone, it was never them that refused your love, it was your own doing because you could never find yourself to stay the night. Goodness, you just wanted to feel again. You wanted to love, love like how the sun goes down for the moon every start of the night.
“You’re not staying the night?”
“Not tonight, Yuta.” you gave him a small smile as you picked up your discarded dress on the floor.
The Japanese model propped himself on his elbows, whistling at your figure as you slip your dress on. You narrowed your eyes at him until you realized a few buttons to your Versace Sweetheart Cady Single-Breasted Blazer was missing.
“Really?” you sighed, falling on your knees to search the floor for those stupid buttons.
“What are you looking for?” Yuta sat up, watching you crouch below the bed.
“You ripped this too hard that the buttons popped out, Yuta,” you snapped.
“It’s fine. Go, I’ll find it. It gives me another excuse to see you again,” he smirked at you.
“Yeah,” you sighed, glancing at him, “that’s very unlikely.”
“And why is that?”
Spotting the lost buttons under the bed, you snatched them in your hand and stood up, giving him a sly look, “Because I never give a man a second chance.” Grabbing your clutch, you smiled at him before shutting the door, seeing him chuckle to himself in denial as he fell back on the bed with his hands behind his head.
That was a lie, you do give men a second chance, but the only man you’d give it to is Jaehyun. No matter how long it’s been, how old you were, how forgotten your relationship was with him, you know that he will always have you, be a part of you.
Tomorrow you were leaving to go back home. It’s been a while since you’ve been back and your parents dearly missed you. It was the annual charity ball your family always attended and they wanted you to come to create social networks with others to build Audace. You were a little hesitant because you knew Jaehyun was going to be there, you just didn't know if you were ready to face him or even to just see him.
You leave early in the morning so you could land back home by sunrise. And with your bags already packed, you wondered if tonight would finally give you the rest you needed. You spent countless nights unable to sleep, you think it’s insomnia, but your heart tells you differently. You’ve invested in useless doctors that only tell you to just take those ludicrous melatonin gummies. Of course, they never helped.
You throw your bag onto the chair next to your bed, everything was set for you to leave for tomorrow. Your passport, luggage, duffle bags were all in place at the door and for the slightest second, you felt excitement electrocute through your body.
Maybe it was just you, but the smell of home brought you wistfulness. Should I have stayed? Would everything have been better if I stayed? You had no idea where Jaehyun was or if you’d ever see him on your little trip back home. You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t see you, you didn’t even bother coming out of your shell when he did.
“Y/n!!!” A familiar squeal was heard from the echoes of the airport.
You closed your eyes and let out a sigh with a smile on your lips. You turn around to see Haewon running to you with a lovely smile on her face, “Hey,” you embrace her in a tight hug, wafting the same perfume she wore when you two were younger.
“You haven’t changed one bit,” Haewon pulled you away by the shoulders, examining your face. You’d beg to differ, but she’d disagree, “I mean, you aged backward! Your skin is glowing and you look so beautiful and youthful. Paris must’ve done its justice on skincare!”
You laugh at her witty remarks, “No, no, no! If anything, you’ve changed! Look at you, you still look like how you did 5 years ago!
“Stop,” Haewon waves at you in disagreement, “come. Let’s get you home,” she grabs onto your arms and heads to the car as her assistants drag your things behind you two.
“So tell me all about Paris!” Haewon blinks at you with wide eyes, like a child excited to receive their favorite candy.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything! From fashion to food to the monuments. I want to know everything, y/n,” she begs.
You tell her everything. From the fashion shows that you were able to manage, to the sweet and savory meals, even to the fountains in Paris, you told her everything that your fingers brushed past. Haewon sat in envy, wishing that she visited you more often. There was a snip of a moment where regret weighed in your heart, maybe you should’ve called her to come. As you finished telling her about your adventures, you two sat in silence, the hum of the car filling the car. It’s been a while since you saw her and she looked so satisfied to finally have you home even if it was just for a few days.
“How’s Jaehyun?” Your voice barely meets a whisper that almost misses her ears.
Thinning her lips, Haewon looked at you with sincerity but with a little pity, “he’s okay, I think. With modeling and the company, he’s been busy so he hasn’t hung out with Mark a lot. Mark says that he’s doing a lot better, he’s been going out a lot the past couple of years, but he doesn’t talk to anyone or bring them home. We both think that it’s because he’s still not over you, he also still doesn’t talk to Chaeyoung anymore.”
You nod, you weren’t necessarily expecting anything, you just wanted to check up on him, but his name still makes you miss the happier times with him. You hold Haewon’s words like a string in front of you, I hope he is doing better.
The car rolls up to the familiar view of her apartment building, more trees were added around the rectangular architecture bringing out the bareness of it due to the cold weather. As your feet patted the snow, the way up to her apartment was almost unfamiliar. You always thought you’d know the steps to specific places with your eyes closed, but it raised a question to your mind. What if you forgot the most important things? What would you do then? Would they even be important if you had already forgotten them in the first place?
When Haewon opened the door to her apartment, everything about it had changed. The couch was on the opposite side of the room, the dining table that used to be horizontal was now vertical, giving it more space, and the color scheme that was once in hues of pink and greens was now white and browns.
“Wow,” your eyes widen, taking in all the changes, “love what you’ve done with the place.”
“Thank you,” Haewon smiled proudly, “the pink and greens were getting old. Plus, I feel like this is more mature for me.” her laugh rings in your ears as you scan her kitchen, she’s even got new dishes.
You smile back at your best friend, “It’s nice.”
You sit comfortably on her couch as she makes you some warm tea. Your eyes skim through her walls, pictures of you remained nailed to it but in different frames, she’s even added new ones from when she visited you in Paris. Below them, there were green plants in grey vases, giving it the earthly vibe she always had in her.
“Here,” Haewon hands you your cup of tea as she sits beside you, “so you’re gonna stay with your parents?”
“Yeah, they miss me a lot and I miss them too, so it won’t hurt to stay.”
She pouts a little bit enough for you to notice her bottom lip jutting out, “Aw, that’s okay. Just promise that you’ll say goodbye to me before you leave. If you leave like last time, I’m gonna tell Jaehyun where you are,” Haewon threatens you.
“Hey!” your eyes enlarge in seriousness. You hope she doesn’t and you know she won’t but there’s a sliver of desire that you want her to.
“I’m just kidding, I won’t. I know you don’t want that,” she holds your hand after seeing how serious you were, “You and your little game of fate.” Haewon laughs as she strides to the kitchen to retrieve some snacks.
By the time you’ve binge-watched a series, finished a whole meal of Chinese takeout, you were drained and out of it. You know it’s getting late as the stars are the only source of light in the sky, other than the street lights.
“I should get going,” you grabbed your jacket that draped over the couch, but when you didn’t hear a peep from Haewon, you turned your head to see her asleep with her mouth opened to the ceiling. You chuckle at the amusing sight of your best friend knocked out with deranged hair and a little drool at the corner of her mouth. You turn off the tv and cover her with the cotton quilt before you kiss her forehead, “goodnight.”
As you quietly shut the door, you call for a cab knowing that you’re on the brink of almost being too late, but since no one’s out, by the time you reach the entrance, the driver is already there and waiting for you.
The night winter air hits your cheeks, turning it a crimson red along with the point of your nose. Home was always the coldest in the wintertime and hottest in the summer, there was no in-between. Puffs of grey smoke escape your mouth as you sit in the heated car, rubbing your hands together for more warmth. You tell the driver your address as you lean back in the seat, letting the drive paint your window with the outside scenery until you see the familiar sight of your home. When you do, you tip the driver with a heavier tip because it’s late at night before striding up to the front gates.
When you walk in the mansion, the lights are off darkness pooling into the large vacant home, echoing your heels. You’re quiet in your steps that lead to your room, afraid that you’d wake your parents up. The empty hallway that leads to your room is still filled with the same pictures, the smell coming from the same candles, the same flowers in the same vases, nothing has really changed around here. It’s as if you never really left, it makes your mind drift to your former shared apartment with Jaehyun. Has he changed anything since I’ve left? Is everything still the same? Does he still even live there? It’s a bittersweet memory, it really is, but you hope for the positive, your heart silently wishing things hadn't been the way it was. That you stayed that night in his arms, hearing his silent breathing as you comb your fingers through his soft, floppy hair. To have his head laying on your chest, hearing your heartbeat go at peace because he was in your arms. You got the good side of him.
You strip off your clothes, discarding them on the cream rug, and letting the warm water spill on your body. Life is a series of choices and if you are lucky enough, miracles. Your youthful mind would have disagreed and thought that you’d do things based on choices, but now, you’re convinced that if fate allows it, it shall be. Miracle or not, you will welcome it with open arms, you’ve grown accustomed to detachment and self-growth. Maybe you were saving yourself for Jaehyun because maybe you truly weren’t over him. Either way, you detach yourself from every man you’ve met because you had a sliver of hope that fate was going to lead him to you. But were you wasting your time in doing so? What if in the end, he wasn’t even yours? You dip your head, letting the water swim through your hair, giving it slight weight. I’m thinking too much. You rub your eyes, not knowing if the sting was from your developing tears or the water. Suddenly, you reach to turn off the water and give yourself a quick dry ahead of pulling your pajamas on.
And now you’re on your bed, your eyes still light as a feather. Your nights always consisted of this, unclosed eyes, frequent gazes at the ceiling or the window by your side, and sometimes tear-stained cheeks. The theory of possibly seeing Jaehyun crossed your mind the entire night, you know you were bound to see him soon so you needed to mentally prepare yourself for the moment. Thankfully for the long night Haewon provided for you, the thought of Jaehyun finally left his home in your mind and you found yourself slowly falling into slumber, anticipating another visit from him in your dreams.
“Honey, honey...honey,” Shaken awake by the sweet voice of your mother, you woke up to the image of her sitting on the edge of her bed. Just like the home, she looked like she didn’t age a day. She was as beautiful as you last remembered her.
“Morning, mother,” you yawn, stretching your limbs towards each side of the wall.
“More like afternoon,” she scoffed, pulling the sheets from you.
You instantly curl your body into a ball, cursing yourself for only wearing a long t-shirt and shorts. You peered at the clock by your bedside seeing 12:30 glancing right back at you. “Sorry, long day yesterday.”
“That’s okay. Get up now, get ready, go eat, and let’s go find a dress for you. The ball’s in a few days.”
Obeying your mother, with stiffness in your body, you were able to brush your teeth, comb your hair, and put on a presentable outfit. As you walk down the stairs to the dining room, you see your mother and father holding hands, laughing as they eat. You stopped in your tracks, standing still on the stairs as your hand gripped on the rail, watching them enjoy each other’s company. A little bit of your heart envied the sight in front of you, all you wanted was to love someone. To care for them, love them, and grow old. Most of all, you wanted to do all of those things with Jaehyun, but-
“You’re here! Come eat, we have to hit the stores before traffic gets heavy,” your mother waves you, immediately cutting you from your thoughts.
You greeted your parents as you sat down. Everything in front of you was luxurious, there were fancy sandwiches, bowls of freshly washed fruit, and cut out aged cheese, along with the bottles of wine scattered across the table. You didn’t even know where to begin, you missed everything from home, especially the food.
“Hurry, eat! I have a ton of places we have to check out,” your mother is persistent in finding you the most extravagant dress, a present for your return home for the couple of days you were here. It’s been 5 years since you’ve been back, of course, she wanted to go all out for her only daughter.
“Okay this,” your mother points at the lake green colored dress that hugs your body, the silken fabric falling at your feet, “is the one,” with wide eyes she slowly stands up and walks to you with arms open.
“Really?” you tilt your head to the side, observing your reflection.
“Pair it with some clear heels, signature earrings to elongate your neck, leaving the chest open, and voila, the perfect outfit.” the employee persuades you, as they should because that’s what you ended up purchasing.
“Oh no,” the employee waves his hand at you, dismissing your mother’s card, “that gentleman already paid for your entire attire,” he points behind you and you snap your head in his direction.
Like the time had slowed down, the most handsome man that has ever come into your life, stood across the store from you. His gentle gaze sits on your shoulders, but it embraces you instead of piercing through you. His tall physique has become lean, more muscular yet toned. His signature dark hair was styled like the last time you saw it, it was always your favorite.
“Jaehyun,” your whispered tone comes out as a gasp at the man who stood several feet from you.
A friendly smile sits on his face as the air returns to your lungs and as your brain begins to function again. What a sight you desperately missed. You longed to run to his arms and to hug him, kiss him, love him like the old times, but your feet remind you to stop as soon as you see a pair of arms slither his arm. A woman, just around your age interlocks her hand with his and smiles brightly at him. She’s as gorgeous as you can imagine, probably a model, for her body and frame compliments his.
You clear your throat, regaining poise, and give him a slight nod, careful to not look at him again as you turn yourself around to thank the cashier and scurry out of the store.
“That was Jaehyun, wasn’t it?” Your mother cautiously asks, quickly catching up to you.
“L-let's just goes mother, p-please,” you stutter as you reach the car and attempt to open the door, begging her to unlock it.
Cranking up the air conditioner, you rest your head between your hands as they rub your temples. You ask yourself again and again what just happened and if you actually saw him, but your brain knew better than your heart, you did in fact see Jung Jaehyun standing just a few feet from you.
“Are you okay?” she rubs your back as you try to steady your breathing.
“I’m fine, can we just please go home now? We have my dress,” you beg.
Your mother starts the car right away, aware of your little episode. You think that maybe you’re overreacting a little bit, but this was all physical. If you could control it, you would and you wouldn’t be in such a crouched position feeling this way.
When you finally feel your heartbeat becoming steady again, you sit up and lean back into the seat, you stare out the window, completely dazed. You feel like you didn’t even experience seeing Jaehyun. For the first time in five years, he still tugs your heart and how stupid you feel for thinking that there could be the smallest room for you in his heart when you were the one who left him, ignored him, written yourself off from his story. Of course, he already had somebody, somebody that loves him, cares for him, far better off than what you could’ve done. You were the one that left, what were you truly expecting at this point?
As the car drives up to your home, you’re quick to strip yourself and bury under the covers. The room is dark and silent, the most dangerous time for your mind to wander. Fear settles under your skin when the thought of ending up alone crosses your mind. You’ve been alone all of your life before Jaehyun even showed up, who knew how hard it’d be to go back to the forgotten feeling of being alone.
You hadn’t noticed that you’ve knocked out when a faint knock sounds from your door. Your eyes slowly open, but along with your head, it’s too heavy from your thoughts to lift itself. Slowly as the door opens, Haewon peeks her head through and suspects that you’re still asleep when she sees your body calmly fall and rise. Haewon tip-toes to your bed, lifting her heel, afraid that the clanking noise would startle you awake. Without a word, she sits on the edge of your bed and combs her fingers through your hair, removing the loose strands from your face. She hates seeing you like this, so broken. You’ve worked yourself until you were unable to stand, you’ve dismissed all opportunities to feel something from any man and anyone, most of all, you’ve denied your existing love for Jaehyun. But she knows that you know all of that, you just choose to brush it off your shoulder because that’s what you always did. You’d dust things off and shove them down until you’d combust. Five years of shoving things down have resulted in this.
You stayed that for the next few days, curled up in a ball under the mountain of blankets. You despised yourself for not spending time with your parents with the few days you had, but you could barely get up, you didn’t have the energy to even sit. Your mother brought you soup occasionally and stayed there, making sure you finished it to the last drop. She reassured you that it’s okay, to stay in bed and take your time to heal. She also told you to make time to walk around, talk to the workers in the house, or take a walk in the greenhouse, which you did when you could. Heartbreaks were never easy for you anyway.
Before you knew it, tonight was the night for the Annual Charity Ball. There you stood in front of the mirror in the Marchesa Crystal-Embellished Velvet Gown observing how the dress nestled against your body. You always wore expensive gowns like this, but you felt rather insecure for the first time in a while, maybe the reason was that you were finally home after years of never showing up and felt like you had to prove yourself.
Everyone was gathered in the dimly lit room, waves of laughter, and the clinking of champagne glasses filled the massive ballroom. One of the biggest events for the biggest international companies and here you were, not even reaching ten years of CEO experience and now forced to network with those that have been.
“You’re going to do fine,” Haewon rubs your back, “just don’t look intimidating and you’ll be fine,” she winks at you, but you playfully roll your eyes and push her towards the bar where she was already making her way.
A low voice clears behind you, “Ahem-”
You turn around to reveal an old friend, “Mark!” you jump into his arms, missing the embrace from him.
He pulls away from you with a bright smile shining on his face and carefully eyes you, “You look stunning tonight.”
“Wow,” you smiled, “you clean up very well, I must say Mr. Lee.” you gently punch his arm.
Mark playfully winces, but offers you his arm, “Come on, let me get you something to drink.” you happily take a hold of his arm as he leads you to the bar that was elegantly built, chandeliers decorating the area with white marble counters in addition to the handsome bartenders mixing the most luscious refreshments.
“I’ll have an Old Cuban please, and-” Mark glances at you, waiting for your answer.
“And I’ll have a Gin and Tonic, please.”
“Classy,” Mark cocks an eyebrow at you.
“Always have been.”
As you wait for your drinks, Mark and you take your time to catch up. The need to network and talk to others completely dissolves as you two catch up five years of each other’s lives. You avoid the opportunity to take another drink as Mark orders his second one, but time is lost when you two are immersed in each other’s stories. It makes you realize how much you’ve missed him and how much you missed everyone’s life when you left.
“So where have you been?” The burning question leaves his mouth and you hope that he’s too tipsy to even hear or wait for your answer.
“Just-” you hesitate, seeing his state of giggles and blushed cheeks, “around the globe, traveling here and there.”
Mark laughs and shakes his head, “No, but like, where have you been? You left without saying goodbye and you were gone for five years, y/n.” even though it held humor, you knew Mark enough to know he was being serious.
“I was...I was in-”
“Come on, why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? I thought we were friends.”
“We are Mark, we are!” you repeat to the male, “but I just needed to get away from all of this, I needed to leave.”
“Leave because of what? Because of Jaehyun?”
And like a fever dream, your eyes meet with the owner of the name. He’s across the ballroom, this time his gaze piercing through your chest. It’s intense and possessive, yet also holds a longing for you. A whispered gasp rolls from your throat and your eyes scatter anywhere on your lap, avoiding to look up.
“Y-yeah,” you stutter, “I have to go to the bathroom,” you leave a tipsy Mark behind as you race for the bathroom.
Dashing to the nearest bathroom, there’s a ring in your ear against the thumping in your heart, and it’s the only thing you can hear because it’s so loud. You push open the door and slam the stall door shut as you lean against the stone stall. You clutch your chest and play with your collar as you catch your breath, a gust of heat coating your body.
“Y/n?” It’s Haewon.
“Y-yeah?” your voice breaks.
“I saw you run in here, you okay, baby?” you can hear her voice becoming louder as the ring in your ears tunes out.
“I’m fine,” you slowly open the stall to see Haewon standing in front of you with a worried expression.
She gives you an absurd look, fully knowing that you are clearly not okay and she brings you into a hug. “Everything’s going to be okay. Do you want to leave? We can go back to your place and just hang out.”
Haewon’s offer sounds tempting, but you had to remind yourself you were here for a reason. You were here to talk and network, yet you let your emotions take over you. Once again. You give her a compassionate look, a small smile stretching your lips, “No, I’m okay now. Thank you for checking up on me, though. Let’s go,” you rub your forehead as she holds onto your hand, leading you back out to where everyone is.
Your eyes scan everyone in the room, seeing who’s here and who’s who, but they scan over certain someone. Someone who chased you away. Jung Jaehyun stood just a mere few feet away from you. His tall, lean physique would still tower over you if he came closer, his eyes still gleamed against the chandeliers, and he still looked handsome as ever. As soon as you see the familiar arms that belonged to the woman you saw at the store a couple days ago, wrap around his, you’re convinced that you’re just a distant memory for him now. You quickly turn your head, making sure to keep your chin lifted as you follow Haewon, who’s already talking to a bunch of businessmen. You step until you're beside her and join the conversation. Several of them were handsome, bachelors, some your age, a little older, and some a little younger.
They were all polite enough for you to jump in, they included you in their jokes, making you clutch your stomach in laughter. They were good at keeping your mind away from straying.
“So, Y/n,” Johnny Seo, a corporate bank owner speaks up, “how’s the CEO position of Audace treating you?”
“It’s great. You know life is kinda fun when you love what you do,” you reply, earning groans from a bunch of them.
“You’re lucky you were born into such a life like that,” a car enterprise CEO named Ten, speaks up.
You quickly laugh before the conversation turns into a serious one, “you’re always welcome to dream a life that you want if you have the drive for it.” You smile at him before turning your back and heading out to get air.
Outside the ballroom leads to a greenhouse, the lush trees and vibrant-hued flowers compliment the sunset that sits on the horizon outside of the warm, glass structure. Making your way on the stone steps that lead to the edge of the greenhouse that overlooks the city below you, you inhale a deep breath and slowly let it out as you gaze at the orange and pink sky.
“Stunning, isn’t it?” A voice expresses behind you.
“Yeah,” you simply reply before your eyes widen. You knew that voice, you could pick it up from anywhere at any time because it always brought you peace of mind.
The owner of the voice walks until he’s beside you, his body coming in your peripheral vision. At that moment, the familiar smell travels to your nostrils, the warmth from his body embraces your cold one, and that’s when you knew you had nowhere else to go.
“I was talking about you,” Jaehyun replied, his eyes glued to the view in front of him.
You slightly drop your head to the ground, staring at your shoes. There’s a dreading feeling that sits in your bones, anxious if he was going to ask you a series of questions of where you were or why you were gone for such a long time. You weren’t expecting him to approach you but little did you know, he’s been waiting all night to.
“Thank you,” you whisper, keeping your gaze stuck on your shoes. In the corner of your eye, you can see him shifting until he’s fully facing you, but you’re good at doing what you’ve been doing.
“Y/n, where have you been?” Jaehyun asks, his voice is tainted with sadness, yet tinted with a little bit of frustration. “You’ve been gone for five years and I haven’t seen you, talked to you ever since you left. You haven’t picked up any of my calls, you haven’t answered any of my texts. I know I blew up on you and we broke things off, but I-” he slightly pauses to calm himself down. You’re next to him, eyes on your expensive shoes and you look absolutely breathtaking to him. You haven’t aged one bit, you still look like your younger self when he met you, still youthful and beautiful. Like always, you were a literal angel. Instead of continuing to speak, Jaehyun clutched your shoulders and pulled you in his chest, tightly wrapping his arms around your frame.
You let out a surprised gasp when your body collided with Jaehyun’s. The tightness of his arms constricted you like he was trying to tell you to stay. He holds you in that moment, afraid to let you go, knowing that you weren’t going to come back for the next couple of years. Tears begin to grow in his eyes as he feels your arms wrap around his body, your gentle touch brings him to his knees, brings him to tears.
“Jaehyun, please,” you bleed, your voice broken.
He instantly pulls away to see you crying and brings his palms to your cheeks, “Please don’t cry.” he begs you because he knows that if he continues to watch you cry, he would also cry. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean a word back then. I wanted to marry you, I still do. I just said those words out of anger and I know I shouldn’t have. I’m so sorry. Please, y/n, will you ever forgive me?”
“I’m sorry,” you cry out, closing your eyes, letting the tears stream down your face.
“Don’t,” he shakes his head, “I am. I am sorry,” a tear leaves the corner of his eye and he rests his forehead against yours, letting his emotions take over him.
You two stay like that for a bit, holding onto each other, basking in each other’s presence with the sun setting behind you. You gently pull away, holding onto his hands, the ones that became stronger over the past few years, the ones that always set your skin to flames.
“I’m sorry,” you repeat, looking at him with bloodshot eyes. Jaehyun gives you a questioning look, “but I have to go.” you bring his hands together, pressing them against your lips before you set them beside his side.
“Please don’t leave me again.” his voice cracks, his heart is unable to bare life without you again.
Your innocent eyes catch him and before you know it, Jaehyun’s proximity is so close you can feel his breath float on your lips. Functioning on your emotions, you close the distance, gently pressing your lips on his. And it’s like you haven’t forgotten the feeling of his lips, you’d never forget it whenever you kissed, it’s like water after a marathon. It’s like sleep after a hard day, it’s everything you��ve ever wanted. But you could no longer have this kind of luxury.
You cup his face, pulling yourself from his lips, “I’m sorry Jaehyun,” you give him a sad smile before backing away, leaving him once again, alone.
As Jaehyun watches you leave, he doesn’t chase after you. He knows you still love him and he still loves you, if fate allows it, you’ll come back. You always do.
Saying goodbye was harder than you thought, but it was the hardest with Jaehyun. You never said goodbye to him, you just left him there as you did before. You were always leaving, always shoving your emotions down, never facing them head-on.
Life wasn’t always easy, but you tried to make the most of it. You missed Jaehyun dearly, although there was a big part of your heart that longed for him and wanted to go back home to him, a larger part of yourself knew that your clocks were no longer in sync. You both have given each other love and growth and taught each other how to forgive, whether it was silent forgiveness or verbal. Every day you hope that you’d have the courage in yourself to let him back in your life, you know it’s there and you’re ready, you just needed the extra push.
It’s been months since you returned home. The brisk, winter wind finally cooled you down whenever you opened your windows. The trees were a lush green, blooming with yellow flowers on the tips, and there were chatters from below your window. The people of Paris always loved coming out in the summer to attend the town marketplace, picking fresh produce and bundles of colorful bouquets to bring to their loved ones. Every Saturday you made sure to also go, it was a good way to make friends and grocery shop.
In your stay in Paris, you made a small group of friends. The five of them were always good at bringing you to tears with their jokes and spontaneous stories, it was like being a careless teenager again. Since everyone was always busy with their own lives, you guys made sure to schedule a time of the month to get dinner and catch up. Tonight was one of those nights. Since they’re more on the extemporaneous side, the reservations were always bounced around within the city, giving you the gift of tasting every fine cuisine. Tonight’s reservation was at the Le Jules Verne, the second floor of the Eiffel Tower. That place holds a special place in your heart, heck, this entire city did. You would be lying if you didn't miss Jaehyun every time you’d pass a place you passed long ago on your visit here with him.
“Hey! Y/n, you’re here!” Julian greets you from the table.
“Hi,” you hug her before sitting in your seat, “Adalene isn’t here yet?” you scan the seats as one sits vacant.
“No, you know how she is,” Estelle rolls her eyes from across the round table, “always late.”
“It’s okay, we’ll order wine first,” Diane chirps, raising her hand to the waiter.
You sit yourself down, shifting in your seat to make yourself comfortable. Conversations and giggles are exchanged from across the table, from the hottest gossip to old stories, everything was always such a good memory with these ladies. The food that was brought was slowly chomped down throughout the night, making the night go by a little faster than usual, but you weren’t complaining, you always had a good time with your friends, but something about this place just brought you nostalgia and slowed time down. After a while, the wine bottle was sipped and emptied, while blinded smiles were painted across everyone’s faces with a slight blush.
“Ma’am,” your waiter came to your side of the table.
“Yes?” You glance at him, with a questioning look, your eyes curiously staring at the beverage in his hand.
“The man from the bar brought your drink,” he nodded at the bar, but you were too busy already reaching for it and sipping it.
The glass of red wine looked all too familiar, you knew the texture of it, the smell, and the taste. You memorized on melancholy nights where you locked yourself in your apartment and looked at pictures of Jaehyun or read articles of him. It was the wine that you two had the first time you two came to Paris. It was always hard to forget several little puzzle pieces of him.
As your friends ogled at your bizarre behavior of quickly downing the drink, you finished it in a couple of gulps and set the glass down. Your eyes skimmed the bar, but no sight of Jaehyun was there. You sighed and excused yourself from the table, you were completely losing it that you needed to get fresh air. But as soon as you opened the doors to the balcony of the Eiffel Tower, there he was. His eye-catching self leaning over with his hands clasped before him.
Your forehead creased, “Jaehyun.”
He turned to you, and boy, was this man very dapper in his dark suit with his hair gelled back. You always loved that look on him and now that he’s illuminated in the moonlight, it was a sight you never thought you’d be able to see.
“Love,” his nickname makes your heart skip a beat, “you got my drink?”
You nodded, slowly making your way to him, “what are you doing here in Paris?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he mumbles under his breath, head falling forward following with a little chuckle, “but I think I know the answer.”
You stay silent beside him, looking at the dark sky that’s littered with stars. With Jaehyun by your side in Paris, it feels as if he’s always been here. It feels like your first time here with him again.
“Congratulations on your successes by the way,” he says, a sincere smile across his lips.
“Thank you, you too.” you return, “Being on Forbes list, especially. That’s a big achievement.”
“Thanks, it was hard after- all of that,” he implies to the incident of his father and how everything went crashing down after that.
“But hey-” you turn to him as he does the same to you, “-you did it. I always knew you could.”
Jaehyun smiles at you, “I got help too,” he whispers, fumbling with his fingers. He lets out a quiet chuckle, “I still am.”
“That’s good, I’m proud of you. I understand how helpful that can be, let me know if you need anything.” you silently say the last part, quietly shunning yourself because you haven’t been present in his life.
Jaehyun thanks you, but looks at you, his gaze peering at your face. Oh how much he’s missed seeing you, having you this close to him. “I’m still in love with you,” he blurts out. Your breath pauses as you turn his way. Your eyes scan his face and it tells you that he genuinely means it. “And I mean it. There hasn’t been a day where I don’t miss you, where I love you less. Hell, having you not by my side makes me love you even more. It makes me crazy.” He confesses.
You’re dead frozen in your stance, the wind gushes through both of your hair, messing yours up more. Maybe this was a sign, a sign that the world is telling you that the time is now because a large part of yourself knows that if it’s not now, it’s never. The look on his face tells you how much love the man in front of you holds for you and you know that it’ll be there forever. There’s not a question of doubt that crosses his face and nothing will stop him from leaving because he knows you feel the same way. He almost knows you more than you.
“I love you, Jaehyun. I never stopped,” you reveal, your voice slightly breaking from the river of tears you were now producing.
Jaehyun brings you into a hug, his arms find his place around your body and it feels like the last puzzle piece has been placed. He sniffles with you in his arm, he’s dreamt of this moment every night. That you’d be back in his arms and that your love is still there for him. Feeling like this is almost too good to be true, Jaehyun pulls back to see you. Your makeup is almost smeared, but your eyes are delicate as he gazes into them.
Just as you felt the wind dance through your hair once again, Jaehyun pulls you to him, his lips settling on yours, letting the familiar feeling of comfort take over him.
(a/n: lol listen to kendrick lamar’s love [slow + reverbed] it’ll set the mood hehe)
You struggle to lock your apartment door as you both enter with fumbling feet, tangling your shoes with your fingers as it pleads to be taken off. Once the last shoe hits the ground, Jaehyun pushes you against the wall, fumbling with the buttons of your blouse as he sucks onto your bottom lip. You envelop your hands over his and put it on his chest to let him take his clothes off so you can take off yours smoothly. You can feel a small smile growing on his lips and you pull slightly back.
“I just can’t believe that you’re here with me right now,” he whispers against your lips.
“And I’m here forever,” you coo, reaching for his hand. You lead him to your bedroom, occasionally looking back at him to give him a sly smile. As soon as you’re about to turn the lights on, Jaehyun stops you.
“Leave them off, I love looking at you when the moonlight is shining on your glistening skin,” his voice lowers and it makes your legs go weak.
And just like that, clothes were shed like a second skin and now Jaehyun towered above you. What a wonderful sight to see after a few years. Your fingers trailed from his chest, down to his abdominals, feeling each straining muscle against your fingertips, until it was met with his manhood. Your eyes innocently glanced up at him when you gently grabbed his cock, pressuring the tip just a bit before bringing your hand to it, rubbing it in your palm.
“Oh, baby, you always know how to make me feel good,” Jaehyun lowers himself until he’s groaning in your ear.
You know you’re doing a pleasing job when you feel the tough grip on your hips and when the other hand comes to your core. Jaehyun lets out a little scoff when he realizes how wet you already were.
“You’re so wet,” he whispers in your ear.
“Only for y-you,” you stutter, “oh shit,” your back arches when Jaehyun plunges two fingers in without any warning. Both of your hands shoot up to hold onto his arms as he finds a quick pace for his fingers, occasionally circling his thumb on your clit.
“Baby, baby,” Jaehyun hums as he lowers himself onto his free elbow to litter you with hickies across your neck, later leading to your chest.
Everything is blurred and everything is going so fast, you’re almost convinced that this isn’t even happening, that this is just another dream of yours. You struggle to relax as Jaehyun stops in his tracks, which results in you shooting up to prop yourself on your elbows to only see Jaehyun lowering himself down to your dripping, wet core.
This is definitely not a dream. You let out a loud moan when Jaehyun presses his hot tongue against your core, letting his teeth gently nip at the lips of your pussy.
“Tell me, angel,” the vibrations of his voice shoots pleasure through your spine, “did you fuck anyone while you were here?” You wince when he doesn’t hear an answer from you and harshly pats your pussy. “I don’t like being ignored, you know that, don’t you?” a smirk stretches across his face seeing you sexually frustrated, but you persistently nod.
“I-I did,” you let out another wince when he carefully slaps it again. Jaehyun shakes his head, almost in disappointment, but you pay no attention to it because you’re so aroused at this point that you just need to feel him in you.
“Bad girl,” he shakes his head as he lowers himself back down. His hot breath fans across your clit, making you involuntarily clench around nothing, and Jaehyun notices it but shakes his head.
“Please,” you groan, your fingers tangling in his hair.
“So you’ve been a busy girl, huh?” He mumbles against your pussy.
“Yes, yes, I have been. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you’re in a frenzy. Five years and you haven’t felt his touch, at this point, you feel like he’s just mocking you at this point, “please let me feel you.”
The ability of his tongue is superior to every man you’ve decided to entangle yourself with, no one could match how well Jaehyun could make you feel. And tonight, you were ready to give all of you to him.
“J-Jaehyun,” you drag out, “I’m-”
“What do you want, baby?” Jaehyun asks, looking at you from below.
“E-eat me out.”
Jaehyun lifts himself until he’s hovering over you, there’s darkness in his eyes, foreshadowing that he won’t be gentle. “You have to ask nicely.” he snickers, bringing a hand down to rub your clit, fast.
Your eyes widen from the surprise feeling, a gasp comes out of your mouth and your back arches, your perking nipples touching his chest. Jaehyun seems to notice because he brings his other free hand and pinches it, rolling it between his fingers. You close your eyes, blinded by the feeling and the power he has over you. You’d let him ruin you any way he wants.
“Want...you to...eat. Me. Out, please, please, please,” you’re impatient as you finish your command, sounding snappy, but Jaehyun gives in because he enjoys how needy you sound.
He lowers himself until he’s face to face with your sex again, the wetness and clenching of it arouse him and he doesn’t hesitate to bring his mouth to it, instantly sucking your pussy. You release a loud whine, your hands shooting to his hair. You didn’t expect him to be so rough on you so soon. But he is and as he licks the wetness, drawing circles on your clit simultaneously.
“You taste so good, angel,” he coos, pulling away for a split second before lapping onto your sex again, this time thrusting his tongue in you. The feeling of his tongue fucking you has your stomach tightening, so close to snapping. He lets his tongue explore your walls as he pinches your nipples, forcing them to perk up more than they could.
Jaehyun knows you’re about to climax when your hips begin to rise and your legs start to close in beside his head, but knowing how sensitive you are, Jaehyun gently presses your hips down and pries your legs until they’re as far as your flexibility allows it to go before returning to his deed.
“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” you curse, sweat beading down your temple. Soon, your coil snaps and you’re shaking in Jaehyun’s grasps, but he gives you no time to come down from your high as he instantly thrusts his cock into you. You gasp, eyes widening as you hold onto him, your hands searching for any kind of leverage on him.
Jaehyun lowers his head into the crook of your neck, kissing it as he thrusts harshly against you. He hears your loud winces above him and he supports himself on his elbows, seeing tears on both sides of your face. “I can stop,” he whispers, afraid that he might’ve been overstimulating you too much.
You persistently shake your head, the pain is a bit overwhelming but the pleasure is worth it. “Please don’t,” you croak, bringing Jaehyun back down to you.
He fucks you like the angel you are, praises fumbling from his lips, “you’re so good, baby. You feel so fucking good.”; “No one feels good as much as you do.”; “God I fucking love you and your tight pussy.” praise after praise has you in a trance as he fucks you dumb.
Jaehyun pulls out and you whine from the empty feeling, cold air reaching your sensitive sex. But he lifts you by the hips, his grasp tight on you as he turns you over, lifting you until you’re on all fours. Jaehyun brings his hand hard on your ass, “promise me you won’t fuck anyone anymore unless he’s me,” he commands with a growl in his voice.
“I promise,” you whine, voice desert dry.
Content in your words, Jaehyun thrusts into you from behind. You let out an elongated cry, his tip reaching farther into you, hitting that sweet, sweet spot repeatedly. His grip on your hips tightens as you look forward to the bruises in your hips the next day.
“Oh baby, you feel so good,” Jaehyun hums, “still tight for me after all these years.”
You moan when he reaches for your breast, kissing your back in doing so. A moan escapes your throat, “only for you. Only for you,” you repeat, closing your eyes.
Jaehyun knows you’re dazed, your words are barely coherent, your pants are almost louder than your moans, and he knows you can barely hold yourself up, noticing at your shaking limbs. So, he wraps his arms around your hot, sweaty body and brings you up until your back is pressed against his chest. You groan from the new position that he puts you in, almost as satisfying as the previous one. Jaehyun gently kisses your shoulder and the place where it meets your neck while he rams into you, his actions contradicting. Nonetheless, it holds so much love. Vulnerable, naked bodies pressed together in the moonlight from Paris that illuminates your bedroom. You’re making love with the love of your life and how much of a roller coaster it took to finally get to this point.
“I love you,” you bring your hands around to his hair, combing your fingers through it, earning a groan from your tugging, “I love you so, so much. I love you and only you” you don’t know if your cry comes from the overwhelming feeling of your emotions or the fact that he’s vigorously ramming into you, reaching so far into you, making you feel like you could crumble in that instant.
“I’m close angel,” he moans in your ear.
“In me, come in me,” you beg, squeezing your eyes closed because you know you’re almost there too.
Jaehyun reaches down to your abused sex and draws circles around your sensitive bud, making you arch away from him, but he’s close to bringing you back to his sweating body. Soon you can feel that coil in your stomach snaps. Both of you let out a series of moans and curses and after staying like that for a bit, Jaehyun brings you down on the bed. He lays next to you catching his breath while holding you as you gasp for more, your body twitching from time to time as it calms down.
“You did well, my love,” he kisses your forehead, staying there for a few seconds, “and I love you too.”
Jaehyun doesn’t know whether or not you finally fell asleep, but he slowly pulls back to get a glance at you. In such a time like this, he thinks you’re absolutely beautiful, hair sticking out in various directions as some stuck to your forehead, your swollen lips that sit plumply on your face, the rare beads of sweat that sat on your temples, and the red flush that blushes your face. Everything about this, about you, is perfect for him. It’s a familiar feeling for him when he holds you, kisses you, makes love to you and it takes him a while until he finally realizes that you are his home.
You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up, but you know it must be around the early afternoon from the fresh sunlight that sneaks through your curtains. You remember the events from yesterday, going out to dinner with your friends, seeing Jaehyun, making love with Jaehyun and that’s when you feel the pair of arms around your waist move just a bit, which confirms that yesterday really wasn’t just another fever dream. With a smile on your face, you turn yourself until you’re facing him. What a beautiful man you managed to get involved with, again. You giggle a little bit when he stirs in his sleep, slightly pouting and you can’t help yourself but peck his lips a couple of times to wake him up.
Your fingers comb through his hair as he struggles to open his eyes, “Hey, sleepyhead,” you laugh.
“Good morning, my love,” whenever Jaehyun calls you that, it makes your heart flip. You felt ridiculous that such a word can make you feel like you're back in high school, experiencing your first, real crush.
“It’s the afternoon,” you mumble, reaching for your phone but he’s quick to wrap his strong arms around your body to keep you close to him.
It’s just like you never left like there wasn’t a whopping five years of nights where you missed being held by him. For you, everything fell back in place. For you, it felt like you were finally back home.
“Hey,” Jaehyun clears his throat and you back away because for a split second you could hear the hesitation in his voice.
“Yeah?”
With those dark chocolate orbs of his, Jaehyun looks down at you and you’ve never felt more alive in your years of living. He was only two years older than you, and you’re both still considered young, but he’s convinced that you’re the love of his life. You hope that what he says is something good, because after all of this, what would be the point?
“Will you marry me?”
You shot back, completely shocked with your mouth opened and your eyes wide. You really weren’t expecting such a proposal so soon, especially after seeing him for the first/second time in five years. You’re taken aback and completely speechless, you’re stunned and you think you’re losing it until Jaehyun calls out your name.
“Yes,” you reply, “yes, yes, yes!!! Let's get married!” You gleam, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a tight embrace.
Jaehyun pulls away from your waist and gives you a sincere look, “I know it’s not the ideal proposal, but I promise when we get back home, I’ll do it right. I’ll do everything right this time,” he declares.
“Oh honey,” you cup his cheek, “there’s nothing you did wrong, we all make mistakes and go through hard times. I’m just glad it all led me back to you.” you lean forward to kiss his forehead as he embraces you again.
It’s time, you were finally getting married to Jaehyun. And for real this time, no contract, no business, just love.
“By the power given to me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss each other. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my honor to present for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Jung!”
Cheers throughout the venue fades as Jaehyun leans into your lips, a smile adorning his face as he places a gentle kiss on your lips. Flower petals are thrown in the air and smiles are exchanged between each side of the family.
And after the reception, dinner, first dance, cutting of the cake, bouquet tossing, and after everything fate has put you through, everyone bids you goodbye as you and Jaehyun run out of the reception hall. With the sparklers in their hands, complimenting the sunset in front of you, the cheers of encouragement sing through your ears as Jaehyun opens the car door for you. As he gets in, he gives you a teasing chaste kiss, before waving off to everyone and riding into the sunset.
You always had faith in fate, each decision has its own consequences and leads you on different paths. You often think to yourself if you had chosen a different path, where would it lead you? Would it lead you to the same ending? Or would you end up in a different place? And would the person you love the most be there? Yes. The answer is yes, wherever you go, you’re convinced Jaehyun will always be there. He will follow you like the sun and the moon, he will love you like how the moon leaves to let the sun breathe. Jaehyun will love you to the best of his abilities because you taught him to love himself. He’s almost convinced that you saved his life and he couldn’t be more grateful to have someone like you by his side.
Life was always good at never going the way you wanted it to. Like your mother said, “life isn’t fair,” yet at the time she said it, you were too young and only took it as a grain of salt. Little did you know, the world will throw you in several different directions, the world will bash you, judge you, and sometimes make you feel like it hates you. But when you find love, kindness, and forgiveness within yourself and others, everything that brought darkness will complement the light, showing how sometimes bad things happen so you can grow. Life is hard and no one said it was going to be easy, but right now, life is good. Life is great when you’re with Jung Jaehyun.
Fin.
#kpopscape#jaehyun imagines#jaehyun angst#jaehyun smut#jaehyun fluff#original writing#creative writing#nct 127 imagines#jaehyun series#jung jaehyun au#nct 127 au#nct imagines#nct au#writeblr#writing#jaehyun au#jung jaehyun#jaehyun#jaehyun fanfiction#jung jaehyun imagines#repost because tumblr hates me#repost because it wasn't showing up in the tags
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Luke Crain Headcanons
Request: Hi🥺I’m usually not to good about making request but I’m trying to breakout of my shell on that cause you are an amazing writer and I love everything you write!! But can I request a Luke Crain headcanon where you guys grew up together but distanced while he was in rehab but you came back together after what happened with Nellie! Thank you so much you’re an angel🥺💛
Thank you SO much @cathrinexxxv I LOVE LUKE CRAIN! Also I’m so ready to binge watch all of Bly Manor tomorrow!! <3
You and Luke first met when you were very young. As in, really really little. To this day, you’re still constantly teasing him and making him blush smile about his huge magnifying pair of glasses and his obsession with bowler hats.
You and your family used to live in the small village which was a fifteen minute walk away from the looming heights of Hill House, so when a rumour started spreading down the houses that a new family full of children were moving in for the summer, you, naturally, were intrigued.
One night, when you had heard from your mother that the new family had moved in, you sneaked out your back garden on a warm afternoon before dinner, cutting through the dark and dingy forest until you reached the outskirts of the property. Seeing a boy around your own age sitting on his own on the burnt grass, you waved to Luke from behind the branch of a nearby, crooked oak tree. He was startled, to say the least, but as he watched you hide slightly behind the bark, he was surprised to find he wasn’t scared in the slightest.
He felt as if he almost knew you already. As if this was always meant to happen, that you were meant to find each other here.
Nudging his glasses back up the bridge of the nose, he shyly waved back. Once he finally realised that you weren’t going to budge from your hiding place, nervous from the stories your neighbours had told you about this house, he decided to pick up his crayons in one fist and his paper in the other, before he sets off half stumbling, half stomping along the uneven ground towards you.
When he finally reaches the trunk, he stops and looks at you kind of funnily, tilting his head slightly before he decides the right reaction was to smile at you.
‘My name is Luke Crain. Do you want to play with me? All my siblings ignore me and they don’t want to draw with me.’
The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon huddled under the shaking leaves, sitting on the roots of the tree, Luke tracing out a picture and you giggling as you tried to bump his hand out of the way to colour it in.
From then on, the two of you were inseparable. Nellie loved you of course, and saw you as her honorary best friend as well, as did the rest of the siblings (even though Shirley would never admit it, and Theo was too stubborn to), which meant constant sleepovers at Hill House.
Hugh would always chuckle and shake his head when he peeked into Luke and Nellie’s room, seeing Nell asleep on a red bean bag with a half open bag of sweets lying deserted by her feet, and you and Luke sprawled out on the mat by the iron railings of his bed, snoring.
You were also the only one he allowed up into his treehouse. Although, sometimes he was too embarrassed to let you, or his siblings, in, because he had stuck pictures up on the wall of the drawings he had tried to do of you.
Growing up with Luke also meant having to calm him down after he starts seeing the tall, floating ghost. Sometimes you would try to climb up the ivy outside of his bedroom window, only to topple into the house headfirst when you start to hear Luke’s high pitched screaming coming from under his bed. Although Olivia would come running in, she would always end up comforting sobbing Nellie, as Luke would only grab onto you, the two of you sitting on the edge of his bed as you remind him the rule.
‘Breathe in and out Luke, that’s it. In and out, seven times - that’s what keeps you safe.’
‘Eight’, he would say with a trembling breath. ‘Eight times. You’re my family too.’
The two of you were gutted when Luke had to move away, but your parents could already see how close the two of you were, and so decided that a move away and a new school for you, perhaps, wasn’t the worst idea. Especially, they decided, since you had been there that night as well.
Although the two of you were close for the whole of your childhood, it takes Luke until he’s eighteen years old to realise just how long he’s really been in love with you. It takes some nudging on from Nellie, pointing out how you would run up to his locker during breaks between classes and just fill him in on how your day was going - each break, no matter how long it had been, without fail. Luke was the only person you wanted to talk to, and from the look of pure delight on Luke’s face as he leans against his locker door and gives his full, undivided attention to you, you’re the only person he wants to listen to.
Or how, Nellie would continue, you would come round to their house for dinner, and although Aunt Janet tried to separate the two of you by sitting you opposite each other, you would just spend the whole dinner ignoring whatever Theo was talking about and giving each other funny looks as you kicked each other in the shin.
Or, when the two of you got a bit older, and you would sneak out of your dorm to visit him in the middle of the night, throwing little rocks at his window until his curtains would rustle and the window latch would be thrown open, his grinning face peering down at you. Despite having spent the whole weekend together, reading to each other in the town’s local library, or just lying shoulder to shoulder watching movies, the two of you would sit out in his garden, on the dewy grass, constantly craving each other’s company. You made him blush one night, when you suddenly grabbed his hand and intertwined his growing fingers over your smaller ones, pointing up at the moon, and the glowing stars, not realising the little side eye, euphoric look he would give you.
That’s when he finally realised how immensely, and terrifyingly in love with you he was.
It scared him, to realise this, but deep down he knew it had always been you.
He has so many nightmares though. So many nights are spent with his head lying heavy in your lap, as you brush through his golden hair, trying to shush him and calm him down, or rocking him as he cries into your shoulder because of the nightmares he has about his mother, or about Abigail.
As the two of you start to escape your teenage years, and the wishful chasing after each other that came with it, your relationship becomes slightly more strained when he starts using. You choose to move in with Nellie for a while, once he finally goes to rehab. When she gets married, and you're forced to find somewhere new to live, you think you'll never hear from the Crains again - you get the odd visit from Nell, or Theo, but they're so busy enjoying the newly wed life, or studying for their degree that it's not enough - nothing fills the hole that comes from missing Luke.
It hurts that he never comes to see you, but little did you know that he used to sit at his little beige desk every night, underneath the barred window, just staring up at the moon as he bit on the edge of his pen, a feeling of such wistfulness and loneliness and longing weighing down his chest.
He used to write you a letter, every day, just pouring out all the feelings he was too afraid to tell you, but he always crumples them up and throws them away, too scared to send them.
When Steve phones you up to tell you the news about Nellie’s passing, you told him to immediately come and pick you up.
You're terrified when you open the door and walk out into the bone chilling night to hug him, your heart thumping in your chest when he tells you about how Luke has left rehab again and is somewhere out on the streets, probably using. It breaks your heart, but you know you have to be the one to find him, to bring him back.
When you reach him, and see the man you've loved since you were a child wandering, shoeless and shivering along the freezing, cracked pavement, muttering to himself, you can’t help a tear slip out as you unbuckle your seatbelt and hop out of Steve’s rental.
Luke is so terrified, he doesnt recognise you for a second. It’s only a second, though, before his eyes widen and he pounces on you, wrapping you into him so familiarly, his frame looming large above you but yet feels so fragile in your grasp as he buries his head into the side of your neck and starts crying.
‘I’m so, so cold, Y/n, and my arms are s-s-so stiff, and I’m s-so sorry, I’m so sorry-’
You can’t bear to tell him the news, so you just hold the nape of his neck and pull him tight against your chest, hating the way his whole body shakes in your hold.
On the day of Nell’s funeral, he doesn't leave your side once - it’s as if the two of you had never been separated at all. As everyone files in through the main door, ignoring the sour face on Shirley as they wander into the reception area, you and Luke just sit knee to knee on the couch opposite the entryway.
‘I tried to write to you,’ he starts, as he fumbles a cigarette from out of his breast pocket and tucks it away behind his ear, trying to busy himself with anything so he doesn’t have to meet your confused eyes, and so you don’t have to see the guilt ridden in his. ‘I want you to know that. Nellie kept on telling me off, but i just didn't know how to say what i needed to say to you.’
‘Luke, its okay, i understand how difficult it was for you-’
‘No-no, Y/n, no more excuses! You mean so much to me and i- i cant... i can't lose anyone else. Just-’
He's so gentle when he finally reaches over and kisses you, trying to shake off his fear and just show you what he meant instead. His suit rumples against your chest as he smooshes himself against you, cupping your cheeks softly with his large hands as he tilts you to the side to meet him in a needy, a desperate, a long anticipated kiss.
He doesn’t pull away - he can't - until you finally break for air, and only then does he finally concede and places his forehead against yours with a soft thud, just closing his eyes in both agony and bliss.
‘I’m sorry that took me so long to do.’
‘It was worth the wait. Although, I have to be honest, your timing has always been rubbish.’
He chuckles, his deep voice vibrating against your chest as he rests his head on your shoulder like a lost puppy, gazing up at you with those wide, lost eyes, and for the first time you can finally see the adoration and awe and just pure love that’s always been in them.
For the rest of the reception. before he tells you of his plans to go back and burn Hill House to the ground, is spent with the two of you escaping from his siblings by stepping outside and sitting on Shirley’s porch. Your arms stay linked tightly together, as if afraid to let go again, and his coat is wrapped around both of your shoulders as he rests against you, just content to be surrounded by your presence.
#luke crain#oliver jackson cohen#the haunting of hill house#luke crain imagine#luke crain x reader#luke crain headcanons#thohh#thohh imagine#luke thohh#luke the haunting of hill house#hill house#the haunting of hill house imagine#ojc#luke thohh imagine#oliver jackon cohen imagine#luke the haunting of hill house imagine#nellie crain#theo crain#steve crain#olivia crain#hugh crain
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My One in a Million CH 6
Here we go! Thanks for the patience and support everyone❤️
Thank you to my amazing betas @knittingdreams and @inloveoknutzy I love you both so much❤️
And thank you so much lovely @heyitssmiller for your amazing vet knowledge and kind help, I hope what I wrote makes sense!😅
Tag list (let me know if you want to be added! <3 )
@justdyingontheinside @donttouchmycarrots @heyoitslysso @whataboutmyfries @sunflowerfox87 @hereforwolfstarr @potterlocked24-7 @cheekeebabe
CW: dog getting sick
Here’s the Masterlist, and the story in Ao3 if you prefer to read there :)
Chapter 6 - Water tides
Remus let the water wrap around him lazily as he swam down the middle of Gryffindor Tower’s indoor pool at a serene pace. He was glad to have the place all to himself that late afternoon, as he was exhausted after a pretty intense workout.
His day had been fully booked; he’d been out since morning, only stopping home long enough to grab his gym bag and head to the building’s top floor. He was trying to clear his head and organize his thoughts, but just like in the past three days, his mind drifted to the gift that was still sitting face-down in his guestroom, waiting for him to figure out what the hell to do with it.
As he reached the other end of the pool, he stood there with his hands caressing the surface of the water, feeling the slight resistance it made against his palms.
Sirius had seemed so genuinely sorry and like he was really putting in the effort, and Remus didn’t know what to make of it. It was still hard to believe how fast things had changed; this was the man that had been driving him crazy for weeks... but he was also the one that was making Remus open up about his past, even if it was just a little bit. Even Cocoa liked him. It’d been really hard for Remus not to turn into a fucking pile of goo when he saw them together, and fuck if Sirius’ starstruck face didn’t do things to him. People were usually afraid of Cocoa, but Sirius had opened his arms to him straight away.
What an adorable bastard.
Remus groaned and dived underwater. He stayed in place, floating with his eyes closed. Doing this always gave him a sense of peace that very few other things could. With the exception of yoga, maybe.
It was terribly ironic how sometimes he felt like he couldn’t bring air into his lungs when he remembered that time, but being underwater felt so soothing, even if he was obviously not breathing. There was something about the stillness of it and how weightless it made him feel, as if nothing could bring him down; and having his eyes closed, he could imagine having infinite space all around him, like maybe he’d blink and he’d be floating with the stars.
A splash of bubbles that could only mean another person had jumped into the pool reached his ears.
Remus held on for a few seconds more before he stood up, breaking the surface as he passed a hand through his face and hair to get the water out of his eyes.
“Merde.”
The whispered word echoed in the big room, though Remus was probably not supposed to hear it. He froze with a hand still in his curls and turned towards the voice.
“Sorry, I thought it was empty,” Sirius said from a few feet away. He lifted a muscular arm to rub at the back of his head and frowned with a small smile. “Just how long can you hold your breath?”
Remus just stared at him. At the way the droplets of water dripped from his dark locks and ran down his chest and the planes of his stomach. He swallowed, lifting his gaze before it could travel down further and focused on the piercing grey eyes that were already staring back at him. It felt as though Sirius could see into his soul, and it shocked Remus to realise that the thought wasn’t as scary as it should be.
Remus wasn’t sure how long they stood there, it could have been a second or maybe hours, but the smile slowly faded from Sirius’ face.
“I can go?” he asked unsurely.
“No!” Remus said hastily, before clearing his throat. “No, it’s fine.”
“Ok...” Sirius seemed surprised. They stared at each other a few moments more, Remus wracking his brain for something to say but coming up short. Sirius shifted on his feet. “Well, I don’t want to get in your way, so…”
He started turning around to go to the other side of the pool. Remus took a deep breath.
“Wait.”
Stopping mid-movement, Sirius turned around, arching a perfect eyebrow.
“I…” Remus started, but closed his mouth. Sirius’ eyes softened, and Remus started again, more firmly. “I never thanked you.”
That made Sirius frown. “Why would you need to thank me?”
“For the painting,” Remus said simply, though he figured it should be obvious. He couldn’t help but add with a small crooked smile, “and for the cookies too. Even though they were awful.”
Sirius barked a laugh, covering his face with a hand, and Remus found himself wishing he didn’t. He wanted to see the way his eyes crinkled. “Yeah, well. I should have asked first before I did anything, sorry I assumed-”
“No,” Remus interrupted, shaking his head. “No, you had no way of knowing.” He stopped to take another deep breath. “I'm sorry, I overreacted.”
Sirius raised both eyebrows at that, he clearly hadn't expected an apology. He regarded Remus steadily before he shrugged. “It's important to you. I think it's perfectly reasonable to react the way you did.”
Such a simple phrase, and yet something tugged fiercely in Remus’ chest. He tried to ignore it and sank until the water covered up to his shoulders. There was something about this man that made raw emotions come to the surface, and he tried his best to control them.
“Still, you were only trying to do something nice. So thank you.”
Sirius nodded as he stared at him, a small smile on his face again.
“Maybe we can start over?” He swam closer and Remus resisted the urge to sink lower. Instead, he got up when the other man extended a hand towards him. "Hi. I'm Sirius Black, and I live in apartment 12. Nice to meet you," he grinned.
The resolution on Sirius' face made Remus smile too, before he glanced down at the outstretched hand and reached to shake it. Despite the coldness of the water, Sirius’ palm was so warm that Remus felt it in his core, and he looked back up quickly to find Sirius giving him an odd look.
“Remus Lupin. I’m in apartment 10, right next to yours. Funny that we didn’t bump into each other sooner,” he said playfully, earning himself another wholehearted laugh from the other man, his chest rising and falling with it.
“Ouais, funny that,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. He let go of Remus’ hand and promptly plunged underwater, emerging only one second later while shaking his hair like a dog and sending a wall of droplets in Remus’ face.
“You mutt,” said Remus as he raised an arm to cover himself, making Sirius smile widely.
God, does he ever stop grinning?
“So, what brought you to Gryffindor?”
The casual way he asked it made Remus relax some more. He sagged back down and moved from the shallow part of the pool, treading water as he thought of everything that had led him here.
“It’s kind of a long story, but the main reason is that I wanted to expand my brand, and I thought living in a bigger city would be better for that purpose.”
Sirius nodded as though he knew exactly what Remus was talking about. “Yeah, that makes sense. Where did you live before?”
A wistful smile tugged at Remus’ mouth, and he noticed Sirius tilting his head in curiosity. “In the countryside, just outside of Gryffindor. I was born there and lived in that town my whole life until I decided to move here.”
“Do you miss it?” Sirius asked softly.
The water lapping around them was the only sound in the air as Remus looked down at his hands, weaving them just beneath the surface.
“Yeah...I miss my mum and Leo mostly. I know it’s not too far, but it’s not easy to see them either. I guess it’s hard for me not seeing them everyday.” Remus didn’t add that it made him feel lonely, or like he was back in room 308, but Sirius seemed to sense that it was making him feel sad, cause he didn’t ask more about that and moved to another question.
“What’s your hometown like?”
Remus smiled thankfully at him. “It’s really small, nothing compared to this,” he made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “But it’s beautiful. There’s this beach that Leo and I used to go to all the time when we were kids, and later on we would always find the time to go there on small camping trips, just the two of us in bedrolls, sleeping under the stars. It became a tradition. And then, there’s a forest on the other side, with these huge trees that go on for miles, and there’s a-” Remus stopped himself when he realised he’d been going on and on without a pause, blushing a bit. He looked at Sirius sheepishly. “Sorry, I got a bit carried away.”
But Sirius was just looking at him with a dopey smile. “That’s ok. I like listening to you speak.”
Remus didn’t know what to do with that, so he cleared his throat. “What about you?”
“Hm?” Sirius asked distractedly.
“Did you always live here?”
That seemed to snap him out of whatever he’d been lost in. He ran a hand through his hair, which stayed pushed back, sleeked by the water. Remus liked it. He could see more of his face like this.
“Uh, no. I grew up in Slytherin, actually. But I went to boarding school when I got older, so I spent a lot of my teenage years there. It’s where I met James and most of the guys.”
There it was again, that fond smile, and Remus found himself asking, wanting to know more, “what was it like, going to a boarding school?”
Sirius laughed at that, and walked to lean his back against the side of the pool, his forearms resting over the edge. He tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling with a faraway look. “Oh, it was great. Not so much at the beginning though. I lived a pretty sheltered life up to that point, so you can imagine I was a bit of a snobbish dick.”
“A bit?” Remus raised a teasing eyebrow, making Sirius laugh again and focus his gaze on him.
“Trust me, whatever you think of me now, I was ten times worse.”
“I don’t really think you’re like that,” Remus replied, and was surprised to realise he meant it. Sirius’ smile faltered, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Remus beat him to it quickly, “so what made you change?”
There were a few seconds in which Sirius just stared at him with an unreadable expression. “James,” he said plainly in the end.
“James?”
“James,” Sirius agreed. “Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if we hadn’t met. He made me see I was behaving like an idiot, and everything I was missing out on.” He turned his head and gave Remus a sad smile before he continued, “I didn’t have any real friends before James.”
There was a deep pain rooted there that Remus couldn’t completely grasp, but he felt that it wasn’t his place to ask. “So you guys were friends from the start?”
“Pretty much,” he said, and then a laugh escaped him. “I tried to shove him aside at first, but he clung to me like a koala. I don’t even know why he wanted to be friends with me then.”
Remus thought about the way Sirius’ face lit up when he was close to James or when he talked about him. It was obvious to anyone that they were close, and how much it meant to Sirius.
“Well, I’m glad you found him.”
“Yeah,” Sirius said softly, “me too.”
“So how did you end up in Gryffindor?”
Sirius chuckled, “that would be James’ fault again. He grew up here, and I used to spend months at his house during the summer hols. It’s where I went when I finally ran from home; his parents took me in.”
He’d spoken casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world, but still Remus felt his heart stutter. “You...you ran away?”
Sirius’ eyes widened a bit, clearly he hadn’t realised how much he’d said. He glanced at Remus a bit wearily, who hastened to add, “I’m sorry, you don’t have to talk about it.”
Some of the tightness seemed to leave Sirius’ shoulders as he exhaled sharply. “No, it’s ok. I...fuck. My family and I had different views about...things. They own this big company and run in some upper circles of society that I never had any interest in.”
It was Remus’ turn to have his eyes widen like ping pong balls as the realisation hit him like a bag of wet sand. “Wait...you’re that Black? From Black Enterprises?”
The tension in Sirius’ jaw was so sudden and intense, Remus regretted his words instantly.
“No. I mean, yes. I should be. But I left that behind years ago.”
There was a crease between his brows, and Remus’ hand started stretching towards it to smooth it, but he caught himself in time and pretended to scratch at his cheek instead.
“Ah, sorry, my bad. I thought for a second that you were. But you must be the Sirius Black from Gryffindor, huh? I’ve heard great things about him,” Remus said in a light tone. At first, Sirius frowned at him as if he’d gone crazy and Remus shifted awkwardly. But slowly, it started melting away until he started laughing at Remus’ antics, one hand clutching his stomach.
“God, you’re so weird.” There was that sweet smile again, directed fully at him, and Remus’ heart stuttered for an entirely different reason.
After that, Remus lost track of time as they talked and splashed about. He felt surprisingly light. Laughter was not in short amounts, an easy banter settling between them, and sometimes he’d catch Black staring at him with an indecipherable smile on his face. It felt like they’d been friends for years and not just a few hours, which was something Remus’ brain couldn’t completely wrap around.
Their topics went from the most trivial things to some that bordered in way-too-intimate for how long they’d known each other, but it didn’t feel weird or forced.
Remus mentioned how much he enjoyed a cup of tea in the afternoon. Sirius told him that he’d started smoking at 16, and had quit three times so far but started again when he felt overwhelmed. Remus talked a bit about his mum and how hard she worked to bring money in, and how Remus had to practically beg her to let him help once his business had taken off. Sirius confessed to being afraid of spiders to which Remus couldn’t keep in a laugh.
“Really? Spiders?”
“Oh, shut up, you,” Sirius had said with no real venom as he splashed him with water, making Remus laugh harder. Remus didn’t miss how Sirius' eyes hadn’t left his face when he’d looked back up at him.
They had started drifting closer to each other, and right then Sirius was swimming backwards around Remus as he told a story about a school prank. Remus was turning around slowly on his feet to keep him in sight, entirely too conscious of the way that the movement with each backstroke made Sirius’ back look even bigger. And how the waves Sirius was making kept lapping at Remus’ lower belly.
What the fuck am I thinking?
He shook his head just in time to catch Sirius’ next question.
“Did you always know you wanted to teach yoga?”
“Oh. Well, not really. I always thought I wanted to be a writer,” Remus chuckled. “But then after...Um, a couple years ago I decided to start a healthier lifestyle, and discovered I really liked it.” He gave a small shrug. “I decided to focus on that, and I don’t regret my decision.”
Sirius hummed as he kept swimming with his eyes closed. Feeling a bit weird just staring at him, Remus pushed his legs up and started floating on his back, focusing on the ceiling instead.
“So, what do you do for a living?” he asked.
He heard more than saw Sirius stop and stand up at once.
“I um...I work as a freelancer from home.”
“That’s nice. What kind of jobs do you do?”
“Oh, all sorts of things. Y’know, I never learned to float like that,” he said in a rush, which struck Remus as a bit weird. He let his feet angle down and touch the floor, and he pulled himself upright to eye Sirius curiously. He was fidgeting, but smiled at Remus hopefully, so Remus smiled too.
“Would you like me to teach you?”
Sirius’ face lit up. “Would you?”
“If you want,” Remus shrugged.
Sirius nodded enthusiastically and took a couple steps closer.
“Ok, try to align yourself with the water, and I’ll help by holding you until you can adjust your body on your own. It’s easier to float if you take a deep breath and hold it, so let’s start with that.”
“Ok, I can do that.”
“You need to be perfectly relaxed, ok? Save that puppy energy for something else.”
“D’accord, d’accord,” Sirius rolled his eyes. Remus tried to ignore how nicely the words rolled out of his tongue.
He watched as Sirius breathed in and pulled himself into a horizontal position. He held it for barely one second before he started sinking, so Remus took a deep breath too and moved over to place one hand in the middle of his back, and the other under his head.
Soft.
It was all Remus could think as the dark strands of hair fell between his fingers.
“Tip your head back and lift your chin. There should be no tension on your neck.” Remus’ voice was mellow, automatically slipping into the tone he used for his classes. “Put your arms just like this.” He removed his hand from Sirius’ head and used it to bring the arm closest to him slightly up, Sirius’ fingers brushing against Remus’ thigh, and then placed it back in the inky hair.
“My hips keep going down,” Sirius chuckled, making the water ripple in small waves. His eyes were closed, his chin tilted up just like Remus had told him to, exposing the long lines of his neck. Remus looked away, trying to keep a blush at bay.
“Ok, I’m going to move my hand to support you better, is that ok?”
A breathy “oui” was all he got for an answer.
Remus’ hand trailed down, his fingers brushing against Sirius’ spine until he could place it more firmly against the small of his back. He could’ve sworn he felt Sirius shiver, but that could be because of the water.
Looking down at Sirius’ toes, he told him to try and relax more. His eyes went up his legs as he gave small advices on how he should place his body, passing by the blue swim trunks that clung to his thighs, then kept going up his hip bones, toned stomach and chest, telling him to try and push up. He glanced up at that long, elegant neck, until he finally stopped when he found silver eyes staring intently at him.
In that moment, with those eyes locked with his and feeling overly conscious of the skin he was touching, Remus felt a bolt go through his fingers and removed his hands instantly as if he’d been burned, and Sirius flailed his arms and sank.
He stood up spluttering, water dripping everywhere.
“Remus what the fuck-” he started complaining, but stopped short when he realised just how close they were standing.
Remus felt his breath hitch in his throat as he was engulfed in the grey once more. Wet hair fell over his eyes, and this close, he could make out all the shades, every spot in those irises. He felt like he was staring at a tempest sea, the calmness around them making him feel like he was in the eye of the hurricane, and he was about to be swept up in the storm.
Sirius’ breath fanned against Remus’ face, slipping between his parted lips. His eyes darted down to stare at Sirius’ mouth, those pink lips that looked so incredibly soft that Remus wanted to reach up and touch them with his fingers. The tip of his tongue moved to wet his lips, and when he glanced up again he caught Sirius following the movement. The other man inched his face closer, torturously slow, until Remus tilted his head up slightly.
Everything around them seemed to be suspended in time, waiting, waiting… And then that same memory was flashing through his mind and Remus pulled away.
“Remus?” Sirius asked, confused, and Remus’ heart gave another painful tug.
“I...I...” Remus backed against the wall so much he wished he could just become one with it. Sirius took a step back and watched him with worried eyes.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...Are you ok?”
“I just- I...I gotta go.”
Not waiting for any answer, Remus turned around and lifted himself out of the water, and basically bolted back to the changing rooms.
He didn’t even stop to take a shower, just changed his clothes as fast as he could, grateful that Sirius didn’t come looking for him.
Once inside his flat, he unceremoniously dropped his bag and keys on the floor, and let his head fall back against the door.
What the fuck was that?
It was so not like him to do something like this. He knew better than to get tangled in... in whatever happened at the pool was. Focus on your career, that was the goal. No time to meet anyone just to get into a relationship, get attached, and then be left broken.
But Sirius just...it felt so natural to be around him. Remus was still surprised at how comfortable he felt around the other man, given the way they’d started things off. If the image he’d had of Sirius was so far off the mark, then maybe Sirius was not like-
No.
He was done with relationships and that was that.
“Ugh, fuck,” Remus groaned, then finally glanced around his flat. “Cocoa?” he called, surprised that he hadn’t been tackled in a bear hug yet. “Cocoa, c’mon boy. Let’s go for a walk. Fuck knows I certainly need some fresh air.”
It was dark outside already, but Remus’ heart was still beating wildly, and he didn’t think he could stand to just stay inside. He needed to calm down and get his mind off dark hair, stormy eyes and wet lips.
When he still got no response, Remus frowned. It was very unlike Cocoa not to rush to greet him or come to him when called. Even if he’d been sleeping, he’d always wake up to the sound of Remus coming back home.
Remus stepped into the living room, walking around the couch to where Cocoa usually laid in his dog bed. And there he was, with his head between his paws, looking up at Remus with big, yellow eyes. He whined when Remus got close.
“Hey boy, there you ar-” Remus stopped himself with the immediate knowledge that something was wrong. Cocoa was trying to get up, but his legs were trembling and he fell over. Remus rushed forward and knelt at his side, noting how fast Cocoa’s heart was beating, and the spasms still going through his body. “What’s going on? Cocoa, what’s wrong?”
Remus was frantically trying to figure out what was happening when his eyes landed on a crumpled piece of paper. He snatched it up and his heart stopped. It was the wrapper for one of his favourite dark chocolates, and there were only a couple of bitten pieces left in it.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, how did you get this? When did you-? Oh my God, when did you eat it?” Remus wracked his brain, trying to remember if the wrapper was there when he’d stop by his flat a few hours earlier, but he had no idea. He remembered thinking Cocoa seemed a bit more energetic than usual, but he hadn’t thought too much of it.
Shaking out of the whirlpool that were his thoughts, Remus carefully picked Cocoa up and rushed to the door.
“Please hang on, boy. Please, please, please hang on.”
#wolfstar fic#wolfstar#my writing#My One in a Million#Remus Lupin#Sirius Black#remus x sirius#sirius x remus#youtuber#youtuber!au#yoga!au#muggle AU
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broken inside; j.jh
Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x reader
Themes: ANGST, mentions of sickness, mentions of death, sad, just a generally angsty vibe
WC: 1.3k
For: @hunjins
The word broken had always fascinated Jaehyun, simply because it could mean so many things, it could be used in so many ways. It could mean damaged, or could be used when talking about a promise that was not kept. It could talk about something that was interrupted, like a night’s sleep, or a conversation cut off.
It was a unique word.
It was wistful, beautiful in its own woeful way. Like a sad poem, you know it hurts, yet somehow you’re drawn to its melancholy. You can’t help but read it again, and you welcome the hurt that makes its way into your heart. Perhaps it’s a bit sadistic, but maybe, Jaehyun mused, we’re all a little sadistic in our own way.
Maybe that’s what drew him to you.
You were undoubtedly broken, like a glass that had been shattered a long time ago, into little pieces, unable to be fixed. He met you for the first time at the cafe, your eyes dull looking, hair messed up. You looked lost, even though you knew exactly where you were.
“Fuck”, you whispered, “Damnit”
He raised an eyebrow at you, judging your spewing of curses, and odd state. He approached you, asking if you were alright.
“Oh, I’m fine, thank you!”, you said cheerfully, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes, “Don’t worry, I’m just a bit late for my classes”
He nodded, eyes following you out as you left. You, he decided, were a mystery, one he was particularly interested in solving. Like a hook of a story, you dragged him in.
The next time he saw you was in class, bewildered at the fact you were here as well. He sent you a smile, which you returned, and yet it never reached your eyes. He wondered what he would have to do to see you smile properly. He was intrigued by you.
It became a sort of mission, to see you smile. You began popping up everywhere, and he wasn’t mad about it. He began really talking to you, learning about you and liking you. He asked you on a date to which you agreed on. It made him giddily happy, the fact that he could call you his.
He had fallen in love with you, utterly and undoubtedly. It was a new feeling, something he learned to cherish very quickly. Being able to hold you in his arms, to kiss you, you be with you. It was almost surreal.
But then he realized, he really knew nothing about you.
He knew your name, where you were from, what you liked, yes- he knew all that- but he didn’t know the real you. He didn’t know your real self, which seemed like something you hid from everyone.
He still didn’t know how a real smile coming from you looked.
“Who are you?”, he once asked, causing you to startle. You cocked your head in confusion, silently asking him to go on. “I mean, who are you really?”
The question struck a chord in you because you didn’t know yourself. You bit your lower lip, looking away. “I’m like glass, Jaehyun”, you said, not willing to part with anything else. “Take me as you will”
He agreed with that, you were glass at that moment, easy to see through, and he could tell you weren’t telling him the entire story. But he didn’t push, he never pushed you, which is what probably made it hurt for you more. You were being unbelievably selfish, expecting him to stay, a perfect man, the most beautiful one you had ever seen. Correction, you didn’t expect him, but you hoped, god, you hoped.
Hope was something almost as fragile as glass.
He learned to live with your cryptic messages, your random mood swings, the way you would shut him off from time to time. You hated doing that to him, but you couldn’t help it. What if he found out who you really were and hated you for doing this to him? This pathetic little girl who couldn’t fend for herself. A girl that had been thrown into a world you didn’t want to be in.
You would be gone soon.
You fell in love with Jaehyun too, with his laugh, his dimples, his caring nature. Falling for him was so easy, it was like the blossoming of a flower, or like the change of seasons- inevitable.
He kissed you for the first time in the same coffee shop the two of you had met in. You felt happy, for the first time in a long time. He took you on little dates, made you feel special, he made you feel loved. He would hold you like you were the world to him, and it devastated you.
But you couldn’t let him get too attached. You couldn’t let yourself get too attached. This happened every time, and you couldn’t hurt Jaehyun, but it hurt you too because for the first time in your life, you felt alive.
Life was bitterly ironic.
You were tired, tired of having to keep things from Jaehyun. It wasn’t lying per se, but you weren’t exactly telling him everything either. They were half-truths, little white lies that would come out sooner or later, but they were hidden in the dark for now, and it was eating away at you.
“Who are you?”, he asked again another day, arms around you as the two of you sat in silence. You looked up at him, his eyes looking down at you expectantly. His eyes pulled you in, silently begging you to tell him the truth. You sighed.
“Remember when I told you I was like glass?”, you asked. He hummed in agreement.
“Glass is fragile”, you explained, “It can break really easily. All it needs is one tiny crack, which can set off a chain reaction, leading it to break”
You sat up properly, pulling away from Jaehyun and facing him, “I’m glass Jae”, you whispered, cupping his face with your hand and rubbing his jaw. “I’m broken glass.” He stared at you, eyes searching yours to figure out what you meant by that.
“I’m sick”, you said finally, “I’m dying”
The silence that followed was painful, Jaehyun couldn’t think properly. The girl he loved was sick and there was nothing he could do to stop it. You watched as he slowly broke down, tears streaming from his eyes. You held him this time, whispering that it was going to be okay. “I’ve come to terms with it”, you promised, “It’s alright”
“I understand if you want to go”, you whispered. He didn’t reply, you didn’t expect him to. “Is that why you never smile?”, he asked. You blinked in confusion. “I do smile”, you justified, to which he shook his head.
“Not properly”
You looked at him, not knowing what to say to this. “Do you still want this?”, you asked, scared for the answer, but you knew asking him to stay would be unfair, to him and to you.
“Yes”, he said simply, “That’s why this breaks my heart.”
You kissed him.
“Do you like broken things Jung Jaehyun?”, you asked later that day and he smiled sadly, “No, but I love you”, he said, “I don’t see you as broken”
And for once you felt like you were whole like maybe you were something else other than glass. Jaehyun told you that to him you were a diamond and you gave him his first proper smile, something he had been waiting for since he had seen you for the first time.
Jaehyun found a new meaning to the word broken, an emotional attachment to it. There was a new light shone upon the word. To him, you were like the sad poems that everyone praised, the sonnets that every one cried over, the tragic songs everyone loved.
You were broken, but he had never seen a more beautiful person, especially when you smiled.
#neoculturecafe#kpopscape#nctcreations#jaehyun x reader#jung jaehyun x reader#nct jaehyun x reader#nct jaehyun#jung jaehyun#nct x reader#nct fanfiction#nct fanfic#jaehyun fanfiction#nct 127#nct u#jung jaehyun fanfiction#jaehyun angst
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Happy Mother's Day
I'm terribly sorry, this is supposed to be a happy day between mothers and their children, but you know how I am... Note: Set Between DMC4 and DMC5
Nero’s legs wobbled with numbness as he cautiously got off the bike, making sure that the motorcycle wouldn’t tip. He really didn’t want to bring it back to Lady with a ding in it. But when she had offered it to him to borrow, he couldn’t resist taking it for a spin. The vehicle was a beaut, lovingly taken care of, and...very, VERY fast. How that waif of a woman was able to hold on for dear life, he had no idea.
After he had steadied himself, he looked at his destination and frowned, looked down at the paper in his hand, and looked back up. The address was a match, but this place, right smack in the middle of downtown Redgrave, looked like a dump. A decrepit skeleton of what had once been a magnificent manor that looked abandoned for decades. Even though it looked like a prime location for a demon hang out, Lady had insisted that Dante wasn’t on a job. Nero had gotten the feeling she really wanted him to find the elder demon hunter.
Confused, and more than a little curious, he passed through the broken down wrought iron gate towards the house.
The overgrowth was tall and suffocating, but Nero noticed, just before what had been the entrance, a new path going to the left had been created, freshly trampled grass going around the corner. Nero didn’t see any other sign of disturbance, so this is probably where Dante had gone. So, he trudged along, wondering why of all places the man would have come here.
He pulled around the corner, and instantly came to a stop. Unlike the rest of the property, this area here had been recently maintained, the grass recently shorn (Nero had a sneaking suspicion it was Rebellion’s doing) A large oak tree, with bright green newborn leaves, cast a lovely dappled shadow upon the ground. And beneath the aged trunk was Dante, his back to Nero, facing a pair of granite stones. It took a few moments for Nero to realize...not stones… gravestones.
“Lady,” Dante didn’t turn around, “I told you that I didn’t need you here. I’m fine…” Nero caught the scent of flowers, specifically roses fluttering in the breeze. The young man awkwardly coughed, startling the man in red.
“Sheesh!” Dante rapidly turned around, revealing that the scent came from a bouquet of red roses in his hand. Well, nearly all red. In the middle of the bundle, was a single blue rose. “Didn’t expect to see you here kid! Heard Lady’s bike rumbling down the street, so I thought she was sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.”
“Yeah,” Nero said, scratching the bridge of his nose. Had Lady used him as a tool to get to Dante? “You weren’t in the office when I came by, but Lady let me use her bike, and gave me directions to...this place.” He didn’t know the significance of this area, but it was probably very important to Dante.
“Did she eh...?” he murmured, slightly annoyed, slightly resigned for some reason.
“Yeah, Kyrie told me I needed to get out of Fortuna, to take a break from rebuilding Fortuna. And the only place on the Mainland that I knew about, was your place.” That was partially the truth. Nero had also wanted to ask if Dante would be interested in a business idea that Nero had come up with: A mobile franchise using the Devil May Cry name, centered in Fortuna, but he had the feeling that this was not the time nor place to bring up business matters.
Dante chuckled, and looked down at the roses he was holding. “I guess Lady didn’t tell you why I was here.”
“Nah, and I didn’t ask.”
“Welp,” Dante rolled his shoulders, the joints popping. “Might as well get this over with. You know what day today is?”
Nero was perplexed. It was just another Sunday in May. He shrugged.
“Ah, maybe they don’t do it in Fortuna. Here, today is Mother’s Day. Where kids and adults spend time with, and thank the women that raised them, and well… I’m visiting my mom.”
Nero felt the pieces of the puzzle falling in the place. Fortuna’s version of Mother’s Day was during the autumn, and Nero hadn’t really cared much about it, considering his background. But to Dante, the day was more significant.
Suddenly, he felt the yank on his sleeve, and before he knew it, Dante had dragged him towards one of the gravestones, the one that was older, and slightly more worn. It was simple, no words on it, but there was flowering climbing roses carved along the edges. The one stone beside it was similar, but newer, and there were no roses, just intertwined climbing thorny stems.
“Hey Mom, I’d like to introduce you to that kid I was telling you about. This,” he pushed the boy further in front of the stone proudly, “is Nero.” He stood there, partly awkward and partly proud at the thought Dante had talked to his mom about him. Dante hadn’t mentioned his mom much, but Trish had helpfully filled in the blanks when Nero had asked why Dante had a pic of her on his desk.
“Oh, that’s not me...that’s Eva, Dante’s mother. It’s complicated, but I was created by Mundus to look like her, to lure him into a trap many years ago. She was very important to him, and while I don’t quite understand it, I know that she loved him dearly she loved the bot-”
She’d been interrupted by Dante coming in the office, and Nero hadn’t pried further.
Nero tried to come up with some words “Uh...hi.. It’s nice to meet you.” God he sounded like an idiot.
Thankfully, Dante swooped back in. “She was a wonderful woman. You’d think she was soft and demure, but the moment you pissed her off, she was as hard as steel. I can still feel her pulling on my ear when she caught me sneaking into the cookie jar before supper.” He chuckled and winced as he rubbed his earlobe, “A fantastic cook, a wonderful violinist and… an irreplaceable mom.” Dante’s voice trailed off, and for a moment all that could be heard was the rustling of the wind through the grass. Strange, despite never meeting her, with no connection to this family, Nero had a feeling he...belonged here.
“She would have adored you…” Dante murmured softly, startling Nero. He turned to find the older man with a wistful, almost melancholy look on his face.
“Huh?”
Instantly, that softness, that rare glimpse of something seldom seen, was locked up behind a steel grin. Dante laughed. “It’s nothin, just me talking without thinking. So, what about you? You’re on the Mainland now, best time to talk about your mom.” Dante must have seen his sudden scowl, and placed his hands up in surrender, realizing this was a sore spot. “Doesn’t have to be your blood mom. Can be any woman that helped you grow up!”
“Well,” Nero mused, “There was Cecilia, Kyrie’s mom,” he explained, “she was a heck of a woman. When Kyrie brought me home after I’d gotten into a scrap with the other kids at school, when they took my lunch, after she made sure I was okay, she gave me a ham and cheese sandwich on two pieces of fresh bread. She was a baker by trade, you see. And every day after that, when school was day, Kyrie would bring me to her, and Cecilia wouldn’t let leave until I couldn’t eat another bite. She was always looking out for me afterwards. Making sure I got my school work done, mended my clothes, and then when the Orphanage didn’t have clothes my size, she got Credo to get me measured up so she could get me several sets of clothes. But most of all…” he continued, trying to figure out why his eyes were getting all watery. Must be from the newly cut grass. “Unlike the rest of the island, she never judged me, never made me feel like I didn’t belong. I…” he took a deep breath, “I would have been proud to be called her son-in-law. But she never got the chance to see Kyrie and me grow up, to become a couple… Maybe if I had been there when the demon attack...�� he trailed off, feeling a bit lost and alone. He couldn’t feel the same pain as Kyrie or Credo had, but there was pain nonetheless. He was surprised by a firm hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see the older man giving a smile of sympathy.
“I kinda feel where you’re coming from. My mom, she died in an attack too…she died protecting me from demons.” That smile vanished as Dante looked down at the gravestone...not this mother’s, the one beside it. “Our positions should have been switched” he murmured softly, grief on his face, “things would have been so much different, so much better...” Nero was perplexed. Was Dante wishing he had died so his mom had lived?
“Well, if she’s even half the mom you claim her to be, she’d probably be happy that you’re alive, strong enough to protect yourself, and others….” Nero tried to say what he was feeling, and it seemed to be what came from his heart. It seemed to do the trick, because Dante had perked up, and that mask of a grin was nowhere to be seen.
“You’re a good kid, Nero.” Dante said, and rubbed Nero’s head, laughing at the halfhearted scowl that earned. Dante looked up at the sky, the noon sun shining happily down. “Welp, I’m famished.... How bout we get our asses- I mean butts, sorry mom, back to the office and order some pizza. I’m pretty sure Lady owes me a couple boxes of them, for what she’s done…” Dante glared at her bike, barely visible from their location. Nero didn’t quite understand, but he’d never turn down free food.
“You go ahead, bring that bike back to her, tell her I’ll be there a bit later, just have to do a…” Dante looked down at the pair of graves. “A few more things to spruce up the place.”
Nero nodded. Obviously, Dante deserved some privacy, this was his mother’s resting place, so he turned to leave, his stomach already growling at the thought of pizza. He slightly worried he was turning out like the old man. Next thing he knew, he’d be having questionable tastes in fashion, and have a penchant for shooting old men in the head without explaining beforehand that the guy was trying to take over the world. Strange, he thought as he got on the bike, and looked back at the manor. It didn’t look as decrepit and creepy as before. Instead of a carcass of a house, it was a dignified memorial of happy times long since gone. A place that seemed to welcome him to return as often as he’d like. As he drove off, he remembered that he’d forgotten, in all the emotional unloading, to ask about the other gravestone….
------
When the sound of Lady’s engine had finally faded away, Dante let out a breath that he’d been holding in for longer than he thought. Damn Lady, trying to get him to break down and tell the kid the truth. Well, there had been a few close calls, a few words slipped out, but that façade had been maintained, with the kid none the wiser.
He looked down at the bouquet in his hands, and then at the grave before him. “He’s a great kid, like I said.” He sighed, “I know you’re probably disappointed at me for not being truthful, you were always a big stickler for ‘Honesty’ but…” he pulled out the single blue rose out of the bouquet, and spun it between his fingers. “Bad stuff happens to us Spardas. You, me…” he placed that blue rose before the newer gravestone, “Vergil.... I just don’t want that to happen to him. The less he knows...the better. He deserves the stability that we never got...” He placed the roses down, and knelt down, eye level to the grave.
“I hope, wherever you are, that you’re at peace, and that he’s with you, so you can tell him what I never could, that he was loved just as much as you loved me….” His forehead touched the cool stone, and a few drops of water splashed onto the crimson blooms.
“Happy Mother’s Day”
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Bright are the stars
You need a Beatle song that perfectly encapsulates your sign? Of course you do. (Spotify playlist)
Aries—“I Saw Her Standing There”
One two three FOUR! An eager and intense song for an eager and intense sign. Aries falls hard and fast, with a tendency to rash vows that everyone doubts they mean—but Aries doesn’t doubt. Paul (who later styled himself as a "ram” at a key point in his creative development) makes good on the Cardinal Fire vibe with his exuberant vocals, and John of the Aries rising contributed the street-smart innuendo that utterly makes the song: And you know what I mean. Fittingly, this song kicked off the group’s first album, which itself has plenty of Aries “HELLO I AM HERE TO MAKE A MARK ON YOUR WORLD! (like me plz ok? this is my heart and i am Doing My Best??)” energy.
Taurus—“All I’ve Got to Do"
A song that takes its sweet time but burrows deeper than the average ear-worm into your consciousness. It’s a patient song that is unassuming but knows exactly what the hell it’s doing. The intensity builds bit by bit, so that you’re unaware when the power of the bridge comes crashing down. Describes the Taurean romantic ideal: lazy, loyal, cozy, constant, tender, and ever-so-true. Also, “All I’ve Got to Do” is featured on the second album, With the Beatles, which has plenty of other Bullish touches, noticeable even with a casual glance at the tracklist: “Don’t Bother Me,” “Not a Second Time,” and “Money (That’s What I Want).”
Gemini—“She Loves You”
Paul is a Gemini Sun, and throughout his catalogue it shows. But perhaps he never topped the Twinniness of this energetic, optimistic, breathless, gossipy classic. It was composed “eye-to-eye” with John, a truly dual-authored song, and one the rare Beatles numbers where the two lead vocalists double up on every single line, in true (Nerk) Twin fashion. Also the first but definitely not the last of their many “third-person narratives,” Paul’s novelistic instead of confessional slant being distinctly a Gemini thing. The speaker in this one couldn’t be more enthusiastic about this relationship if it were already repaired, and he couldn’t be more enthusiastic about it if it were his. Love is great! People reconciling is great! You should be glad, dumbass! But the real corker? What makes this so Gemini that it hurts? Yoko has confirmed that in the early 70s, during her separation with John, she actually had Paul play agony aunt. Then, during that meetup in L.A. where they were last photographed together, Paul urged John to “apologize to her” and get back together... which he did. That’s right. "She Loves You” is not merely a Gemini’s song: it’s a Gemini’s life.
Cancer—“Octopus’s Garden”
Ringo the Crab’s musically-complex fantasy about an underwater sanctuary where children are “happy and safe,” he and his lover can be together, and there’s “no one there to tell us what to do.” George (a triple Water sign himself, probably not-so-incidentally) always insisted that his best mate’s song Had Depths, and he himself supplied a lot of them: check out his lead guitar lines. They function as emotional counterpoint. When Ringo’s vocal line is especially wistful, the guitar is bright; when Ringo ends on a confident note, the guitar is quirky, ironic, even stiff-upper-lip pessimistic. Result: a shifting kaleidoscope of FEELS. The Moon approves.
Leo—“Good Day Sunshine”
Paul perfectly expresses his own Leo moon with a sublime, vibrant ode to laughter, love, and pride on a cloudless summer day. The bit in the lyrics about she knows she’s looking fine and I’m so proud to know that she is mine? That’s not marring the high tone of the song: that is part of the tone. Hear us roar! And by “roar” I mean "laugh and canoodle, coz Leo is about living the good life, bitches.”
Virgo—“Please Please Me”
What’s fair is forkin’ fair, mate! A exemplary blend of Virgo’s Mutable passive-aggressive sensitivity with its Elemental directness... half-critical, half-begging... plus the very sign-typical humblebragging. About their sexual prowess. Damn, Virgo. People forget how Earthy you really are sometimes. But here we are. In very Virgo fashion, instead of ditching the girl he’s decided to harangue her. On a more meta note, the Beatles were still studio virgins when they first began crafting this song, and it took several passes and incorporation of George Martin’s feedback before it became the bursting pop hit as we know it now. There’s that Virgo work ethic paying off.
Libra—“Strawberry Fields Forever”
The imagery of the title suggests an eternal harvest. But the star sign resemblance goes deeper than that: Always, no, sometimes think it’s me, but, you know, I know when it’s a dream. I think, er, no, I mean, er, yes, but it’s all wrong... that is, I think I disagree. Did you just hear your Libra roommate rambling after a joint, or did you listen to verse three of “Strawberry Fields”? Same difference. The song is absolutely lovely, as anything associated with the child of Venus should be, and innovative, as befits a Cardinal sign. Most of all, even in all of Libra Sun John’s weighing and weed-wandering, he knows one thing: he’s got to take someone else along with him. A companion, stat!
Scorpio—“While My Guitar Gently Weeps”
George of the Scorpio moon and Scorpio ascendant had to really lean into this side of his nature to even get this damn track properly recorded. He resorted to the social power play of inviting Eric frickin’ Clapton into the tense post-India studio just to get Lennon, McCartney, and Martin to give his song proper Beatle recording magic. Which it deserved. The dark drama of the hard-won arrangement is the perfect Scorpio accompaniment to the moody, reflective lyrics about “all the love there that’s sleeping” in this weary world. There’s tender, horrified pity here for those who are stifled into inauthenticity: I don’t know how nobody told you how to unfold your love. I don’t know how someone controlled you; they bought and sold you... Bonus points for the Watery ‘just can’t even’-ness of not being able to so much as pick up a damn broom.
Sagittarius—“Something”
You’re asking me, will my love grow? I don’t know, I don’t know! A deeply instinctual lover knows that Cupid has done hit a bullseye. He remains emphatically ambivalent about the future, but he knows what he feels in this moment, and in that moment is romance and wonder that is as deep as the earth is from the heavens. Sags are intense, but of all the Fire signs they are most far-seeing and detached (due to their Mutable quality, which makes them see the world a bit more like an Air sign does). “Something” keeps trying to capture that je-ne-sais-quoi, and despite the speaker’s happiness he can’t help but circle back again and again to take another shot at that the mental target. A philosopher even when in love. Ultimately, however, he doesn’t want to leave her now... which for a restless Sag is already saying a ton.
Capricorn—“Revolution”
John let his unfashionable midheaven Capricorn off the leash with this blunt, pointed savaging of radical and violent revolutions. (Given the tanks on Tiananmen Square and the millions dead on the killing fields of Cambodia, I can’t say that his cautionary note about “destruction” and “minds that hate” was unnecessary.) Few things are more Capricorn than ‘Oh, you want my money? Yeah, first show me that you’ve done your fucking homework, mate.’ Bonus Earth points for the fact that he somehow worked sex—a lot of sex—into this political track.
Aquarius—“Come Together”
John of the Aquarius moon’s decidedly loony attempt to write a political campaign song in order to stop Reagan. (The result was too weird for Timothy Leary, whose reaction was pretty much ‘wtf? I don’t think even I have enough residual acid in my system for this one... ’) John invokes the ideal of collaboration, but his call to solidarity is built around fantastical lyrics that no one can comprehend: He wear no shoeshine, he got/Toejam football, he got/Monkey finger, he shoot/Coca-Cola, he say/I know you, you know me... Oh, right. The lyrics contain exactly one discernible message: One thing I can tell you is you got to be free. How Aqua. Also in true collaborative Water-Bearer fashion, the arrangement really makes the song (special mention to the tight, tight work of the rhythm section). Bizarre genius that attracts a true team effort—it doesn’t get much more Aquarius than that.
Pisces— “I Want to Tell You”
The wall of sound builds up thickly enough that soon the words seem to be traveling through the sea to reach you: I want to tell you my head is filled with things to say... But when you’re here, all those words, they seem to slip away. A gorgeously, emotionally tongue-tied song... about being tongue-tied. Written by George, a Pisces Sun, this absolute mystery of a lyric is all emotion and no logic. If he seems to act unkind, it’s only him, it’s not his mind. Okay, Fishboy. Good thing the track is compellingly lovely and utterly relatable. Which suits the Pisces life exactly: ‘I don’t know what I mean, but it’s exceedingly beautiful and I want you to share it with you very, very much.’
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