#I cannot stop staring at it its literally so cute
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THANK YOU @kxmaple FOR THIS AMAZING PIECE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I WANNA KISS HIS CUTE FACE AAAAAAAAA 🥺💓🍓 LOOK AT HIM. LOOK AT HIM I CANNOTTTTTTTTTT
#dia’s daydreams#strawberry sigma sweep#and I love the colour palette#you included my favourite flowers and everything 🥺🥺#I cannot stop staring at it its literally so cute#I like how literally every single artwork I have received from some beautiful soul I met on tumblr has been of sigma#every. single. one.#and I LOVE THAT#sigma arts ftw#thanks again Kim ily and I love this art 💜
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Foul Play ♡
Yandere-ish! Scummy Teammate X Athlete! Male Reader
TW: HEAVY NSFW, dubcon, humiliation, degradation, semi-public(?), dirty talk, slut shaming, mind-break, hidden s*x toy.
[A/N: CHARACTERS ARE ALL 18+ Not edited. I literally cannot believe what I just wrote, sorry everybody.]
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The shrill sound of your coach's whistle, accompanied by your teammates' frustrated groans immediately snapped you out of your feverish daze.
You had messed up again.
“Haah…”
A heavy breath escaped your lips as you quickly rubbed the sweat away from your forehead with the back of your hand. The basketball fell from your grasp with a dull thud, and you braced yourself for the next scathing words to come your way.
"That's the third time today [Y/N]!" Your coach shouted as he quickly walked to where you were standing, his face contorted in displeasure, "What the hell's gotten into you?"
You could only look down at the ground in shame at his words, feeling your face heat up further from the disapproving gazes of your teammates that were now directed toward you.
"Sorry coach, I... didn't mean to." You managed to squeeze the words out through gritted teeth, feeling your body beginning to tremble.
"Why is your face so red?" Your coach's eyebrows knit together, clearly puzzled.
"I…Ah~!”
Before you could answer him, a wave of pleasure suddenly hit your body, and you buckled under your knees with a yelp.
Your shoulders were grabbed by a firm pair of hands, keeping you in place. It took every ounce of strength not to flinch as they made contact with your hot skin. A deep, familiar voice rang out behind you, sending a wave of goosebumps down your body.
"Sorry coach, it’s my fault. [Y/N] didn't want me to tell you that he wasn't feeling well today. I should have stopped him sooner."
His warm breath tickled your ears, and you swallowed hard before glancing back up, meeting the dark gaze of the taller male. The corners of his eyes crinkled as his lips pulled up into a smug smile.
That bastard... He was doing this on purpose!
However, your coach seemed oblivious to the interaction between both of you, and nodded his head at your teammate with a sigh, "Of course he didn't… You, go sit out or head to the nurse’s office, I don't need you dragging the other players down."
"I can go along with him, sir."
"Wait, I can go on my own—" You helplessly squirmed under his grasp.
"Can I entrust you with him for the rest of practice then?"
You opened your mouth to protest, but a glare from the older man immediately shut you up. You could only let yourself be dragged away by your teammate, dreading for what was to come.
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The moment you reached the vacant school corridor, the taller male immediately shoved you into the storage room, making you slam painfully against the wall.
Before you could react, a hot, wet tongue slid into your mouth, forcing its way inside. You struggled weakly, clawing against the other male's chest as pleasure began to take over your senses.
He parted away after a brief moment to gasp for air, a string of saliva connecting from his lips to yours.
"Ha-aah.."
"Fuck. I've never been so turned on before." He groaned lowly, "You’re such a slut, moaning in front of everyone. Did you want to get caught that badly?"
You were beyond humiliated. Face burning in anger, your hands roughly shoved him off of you. He stumbled backward slightly, but an ever-so-annoying smirk stayed firmly fixed on his features.
"Shut up! Just get that... that thing out of me!"
The only response you received was a loud chuckle. You looked like you wanted to tear his head off, but how was he supposed to take you seriously? Your red-rimmed eyes stared back at him in indignation, reminiscent of a small, feral kitten trying to defend itself from being bullied.
Ah, how cute.
He wanted to fuck you even harder now.
His hands reached out to firmly grasp your waist, spreading your legs, before roughly pulling your pants and boxers down. Aside from the jersey you wore, you were completely exposed to the taller male in front of you.
A whimper left your throat as his fingers spread your tight entrance open. You bit down on your lips, ashamed at the sight.
“Christ… you’re so wet.” He muttered.
Nestled deep within was a vibrator that lewdly spat out clear fluids, dampening your shaking thighs. The loud buzzing became louder in your ears as he began to pull the toy out, slowly, inch by inch, clearly taking his time.
You couldn’t take it anymore.
"You f-fucking bastard, stop playing with me!"
A whine escaped your lips. You instinctively bucked your hips, trying desperately to escape from his clutches. His gaze darkened at your actions.
"Don't you think you're being too mouthy right now?" His voice was low and husky. You felt yourself stiffen when rough hands tightly gripped your hips, forcing your wiggling ass to stay still.
"You’re the one with something to lose here, not me. I could just leave you in this room, dripping like a bitch in heat for some poor random janitor to find for all I care."
"Ngh! You wouldn't—"
"But knowing how much this ass of yours loves cock, you'd probably like that, wouldn't you?"
In an instant, he slammed the toy back into the deepest part of your core. Your whole body violently writhed in a mix of pain and pleasure, as though a thousand volts of electricity had struck you.
"Aahhhhhh~!"
The male repeated his actions over and over again, each time, the vibrating toy would kiss your prostate, sending you over the edge.
His grip was firm and unrelenting as he continued to pump away despite your weak pleas. Soon, you were close to your climax, your back arched up, and wet drool lewdly dripped down your chin.
“I’m-mmf! I’m gonna..”
But before you could cum, he sadistically withdrew the vibrator from your hole, watching as it clenched around nothing, gaping and loose.
“Beg for it.”
He leaned forward, kissing your forehead sweetly as he watched hot tears continue to spill from your eyes.
“Beg for me, little slut. Beg for my dick.”
You were too drunk on pleasure to think coherently. So you did as he told you, letting go of whatever dignity you had left.
With shaky arms, you reached for him, wrapping them around his neck and mewled.
"Pleeeeaaase~"
"Please what, whore? I don't know what you want." You cried out as your hard nipples were painfully pinched by his large hand.
"Hic-I... I want you to fuck me! Pleeaaase!"
Thankfully, he decided to have mercy on you.
He pushed his thick cock inside your hole in one go, causing you to cry out. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Despite all the preparation you had gone through, the sudden intrusion was still too much to bear.
Your hole burned from the stretch. He continued to slam himself against your gummy walls, fucking you with a relentless pace. Each thrust forced a squeal out of your mouth, which only motivated him to pound you deeper.
He was breeding you.
Wet squelching noises, mixed with your loud moans echoed throughout the dark room. It stunk with the scent of sex. A small puddle had gathered on the floor between the two of you, filthy and sticky. It didn't take long before the both of you found your release.
"Haah... Who knew that the star of the basketball team was secretly a filthy little slut? Instead of practicing with the rest of his team, he sneaks out to ride on cock all day long."
"Noo~ Ah! Th... That's not t-trueee~!" You protested in drunken slurs, clinging desperately onto his broad shoulders.
With a final thrust, he released his seed deep inside you, causing you to spasm uncontrollably.
It felt so hot. As if you were filled to the brim with hot molten lava.
Cum leaked from the tip of your dick and spilled everywhere, coating your ruined sports jersey with a warm, gloppy mess. You lay there, unable to move an inch.
He removed himself from you after a while, staring down at your body, flushed and covered with cum. It was truly a sight to behold.
Fucked stupid, tears dripping down your face swollen cheeks, skin littered with hickeys and bruises, hole gaping and leaking his cum. Nothing but cock on your mind.
Sigh, It was just too bad he didn’t have his phone with him at that moment.
"Hey... the bell is about to ring soon," he said hoarsely, messily wiping away the sticky substance that clung to your skin with his palm, ignoring the way you trembled at the contact. "We need to clean up."
Glancing around the room for a cloth or a towel, his eyes landed on the still-vibrating dildo that had been carelessly discarded on the floor. Insidious thoughts began to form in his head.
Perhaps next time, he should stick vibrators on your nipples and dick as well, or... maybe see how many you could fit in your ass like in that one porn video he watched. How well would you be able to endure it in front of others?
There were so many choices... He could feel his dick twitching again.
You two were going to have so much fun ♡.
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[A/N: I don't write smut that much so I'm still trying to practice. This one was really hard to sit through LMAO. Maybe one day I'll expand on this one but who knows. Haven't thought of a name for the ML yet. Anyways, poor Y/N!]
#tw yandere#male reader#yandere male#yandere writing#reader insert#x reader#yandere#smut#smut fic#x male reader#yandere oc#yandere x darling#yandere blog#yandere smut#tw dubcon#tw dubious consent#yandere x you#tw degradation#bottom reader#bottom male reader#male yandere#yandere x reader
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LIPSTICK TREND WITH ENHYPEN !
💄 — the tiktok lipstick trend with enhypen
PAIRING bf!enhypen x gn!reader
GENRE fluff, established relationship
WARNINGS kisses obviously, ummm nothing else possibly??
( ‘💌’ ) note : tysm anon for requesting !! i was planning to write this so i’m glad i got this ask <3 so i hope you enjoy 🤍
💋 — HEESEUNG
— this guy will probably laughing his nervousness off ngl LMAOOO 😭 but then he realizes, he's been dating you for a while so why should he be nervous for ??
— he's probably going to be super flirty as you're kissing him ... like giving you a gaze that's gonna make you nervous 😵💫
— but then after all that he gets shy as you continue to kiss his face LMAO . like let’s talk about the duality 😪😪😪
— "you love kissing me that much?" LIKE IF U DONT SHUT UP RIGHT NOWWW .
— he would shower you with compliments as you're doing the trend yk 🤗 like his man cannot make you start recording bc he’s giving you literal BUTTERFLIES .
— goes back to the tiktok you both made just to rewatch the vid about five times before looking at some comments 😊 but he forgets honestly and just ends up watching ur tiktoks cause ure so 🫣🫣🤗🤗🤭🤭😍😍🥰🥰😘😘 u get it LMAO
💋 — JAY
— when you show him a tiktok of someone doing the trend, he's chill about it at first.
— "you wanna try this?" "yep!" "okay then."
— he tries to act calm but he's actually not 😊 like he looks "okay" on the outside but he's panicking in the inside
— like you only figure out how he's actually feeling because of his red face or the heat of his face when you kiss him
— probably tells you which lipstick to pick out and probably even offers to apply on for you. like he gives a bunch of compliments so you’re the one who turns up red next
— looks at you with such LOVING eyes like he can't keep his eyes off you as your planting kisses all over his face...im giggling like why are you still maintaining eye contact
— even when recording, hes gonna look at you lovingly that people comment under your tiktok wishing for a man like that ... but yeah hes all yours 😊 (im feeding into ur deluluness and mines)
💋 — JAKE
— he's both shy and excited when you bring up wanting to do this trend. like this guy cannot stand still BUT ITS CUTE like just imagine him waiting excitedly as you go to get your lipstick 😪
— he's looking at you with such adoration as you're putting on the lipstick :(
— your kisses on his face is ticklish for him despite how often you kiss him on his cheeks 😭 he's just probably nervous but lets not talk about that
— you might have to tell him to stop moving though CAUSE ITS SMUDGING THE KISSES ON HIS FACE 😭 like he’s not even doing it on purpose, he just can’t do it
— like it smudges so bad you have to reapply it on his face (basically redo) but who said you both were complaining about that ?
— so at one point he just closes his eyes and let you do his thing bc if he looks at you, hes gonna move 😭
— everyone would be commenting on how cute your bf is </3 and he would def be reading through the comments, giggling and showing them to you i love jake
💋 — SUNGHOON
— showing him the tiktok trend, this guy will just be SOOO quiet like he can’t process it really … like is he really going to be doing this trend with you ??$ sounds like a dream come true to him
— you might have to poke him to start speaking cause he’s just letting the video replay and just staring at it LMAO its funny to imagine but its so hoon
— “hey…hey!” “huh?” “are we going to do the trend?” “oh uh, sure”
— he may not seem to be excited but trust me, he is. he’s just nervous for no reason … he’s letting you doing your thing and is giving such a wide smile :( LIKE JUST IMAGINE IT ugh his smile is actually perfect.
— i think he would be ticklish too ngl … like he thinks about it too much so he kinda gets ticklish as you’re planting kisses on his face … as if you don’t give him pecks on his cheeks daily
— would get so immerse at looking at you that he forgets about the tiktok … you probably would scold him bc of the amount of times you have to recreate the video .. but he just finds you pretty okay let him be 😢
— gets shy when he sees the comments under your video like he turns RED okay… and he giggles at them LORD it would be really cute seeing him like that 🙁
💋 — SUNOO
— you and sunoo are so down to do any kind of tiktok trend! whenever you both have any time together, you guys would attempt any trend you see on the fyp LMAO
— so he’s super down for anything!!! it doesn’t take that much convincing for him because he would automatically say yes.
— matter fact, sunoo might find the trend sooner than you do. we know how updated he is with trends, i mean, have we seen his tiktoks?? so yes, he would show you the trend first.
— he would be really excited!! like imagine that wide smile and him being like “isn’t this such a good idea?” with that voice tone IF YKYK.
— once you agree it doesn’t take much for you to agree either, he’s already rushing into the room to get a lipstick for you LMAO he’s just so excited to do anything for you really.
— you both would probably create multiple drafts, not because you guys mess up or anything. you guys could do it perfectly on the first try, but you both wanted to create more to keep in drafts for only both of your eyes :( <3
— he would probably help you pick out which one to post, and he picks out the best one im telling you. and the tiktok would be such a hit like sunoo has an eye for this okay 🙏 LMAOO
💋 — JUNGWON
— still living the shy jungwon type LET ME LIVE
— like u can’t tell me he wouldn’t be super red as you bring up the tiktok idea AND IMAGINING HIS SMILE TOO im dead.
— he would say it would be great and would anxiously wait as you get everything.
— he’d smile so hard that you would end up kissing his dimples as well HAISNS
— he would like hold his breath as you leave pecks on him. like you get closer, inhale. LIKE its so funny to you because its sooo noticeable that he is holding his breath 😭 so you just laugh at him instead of pointing it out.
— but he would REALLY enjoy it and would get sad once you finish kissing all over his face….he may or may not try to mess up the tiktok multiple times….
— once you both decide on the perfect video, he WILL blush when he watches it on his own time.
— he’s just the sweetest . how many times have i said that on any jwon related work
💋 — NIKI
— this guy was WAITING for this day to come and let me explain
— usually niki would find trends for you both to do first, so you really never looked for any. so obviously, niki found this trend way before you did! but this trend…he couldn’t bring it up to you THAT EASILY. why??
— 1) you two always do the silly kind of trends 2) he would be shy 3) and you would tease the hell out of him.
— so what does he do?? MAKE IT SUPER OBV 😭 . like he would attempt to have the trend playing on his phone, throw it closer to you, and just walks away HOPING you would see it. HES SO SILLY BUT ITS CUTE
— after you not noticing his attempts, he just gives up thinking he would never ever do this trend in his lifetime and would die thinking about this hes so dramatic UNTIL a miracle happened…you brought up the trend idea 😱
— this guy cannot contain himself like he would say yes immediately and not even tease you by saying no at first.
— he’s in his little own happy world as you kiss him LIKE u think its so sweet when he acts like this </3 !!!
— “we should do more trends like these,” he would say after you both finish filming and you agreed. and once you did…niki finally brings up another trend to do — something that isn’t so silly this time 😊
ENHA PERM TAGLIST 1 — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @dioroits @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @flwrshee @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz
#k-labels#kflixnet#hyfenet#en-web#enhablr#enhypen#enhypen heeseung#enhypen jay#enhypen jake#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen sunoo#enhypen jungwon#enhypen niki#enhypen headcanons#enhypen scenarios#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#heeseung x reader#jay x reader#jake x reader#sunghoon x reader#sunoo x reader#jungwon x reader#niki x reader#kpop#kpop headcanons#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#kpop x reader#kpop ff
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— Paige Bueckers gf headcanons
ummm
clingy gf?? like i can just see her all up on you some days especially after a long practice or losing a game
she has the worst photos of you… youre sleeping on her bed, hair all messy, mouth wide open?? shes got it and posted it on instagram stories
i can see her flexing on everyone about you. maybe yall went on a date or something and she wont stop yapping to her teammates about you
being late to practice because she doesnt wanna get out of bed with you :(
rests all her weight on top of you when cuddling, just needs to be close to your after a long exhausting day
“babe, i can’t breath”
“oh well”
stares at you with so much love in her eyes. could barely hide yalls relationship online, ESPECIALLY DURING A LIVE… she stares at you when you talk and its so obvious that she was deep in it for you
doing her hair PLEASE. i know she has that one hairstyle she wears all the time BUT, what about making her try out different ones just to play with her hair?
probably steals your clothes too. couldn’t find a hoodie for a month and then you joined kk’s live one day and paige was wearing it
username: paige is that my hoodie
“i don’t have your hoodie, what?”
dragging you out of bed so she can go buy trufru bc she ran out…
if you dont play basketball she is so forcing you to learn. bringing you to the court just so she can show you how to dribble and shoot a three pointer. she claims youre the best basketball player
if you wear make up i feel like she would help you get ready. like that one live with kate wanting to do jadas makeup ugh. would so help you and make sure to tell people she had done it
waking up in the middle of the night to her all up on you. cannot sleep in the same position at all. literal star fish position half the time. she’ll have her legs all up on you, an arm slung over your chest and all
if you ever wake up and have to pee, youre screwed!! paige is not moving off of you, she wants you in bed until it’s time for her to get up
her always wanting to help make dinner with you, especially if you love cooking/baking. she probably has a folder of recipes to use
back to the second bullet point, she has so many photos of you. has a folder named “my girl” or something cute and its photos and videos of you
makes you do tiktoks with her and kk… she’ll even kick kk out some of them so its just her and you
the fans go CRAZY over you. the amount of edits both of you get tagged in oh lord
she definitely has a folder full of edit of you because she thinks youre so pretty in them
would love getting into your interests as well. for example, you like reading?? she wants to buy every single book she sees just for you. she’ll sit there and let you go on and on about the book
i can imagine her wanting to do your nails too. but if you get them professionally done then she’ll send so many ideas for you to pick from
this is all i can think of at the moment!! thank you so much for reading, please reblog for me<3
#wlw#lesbian#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers x fem!reader#uconn wbb#uconn women’s basketball#glwmcres
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hello! can i request jason grace or leo valdez x child of hypnos reader ? (gn) 🫶🏻🫶🏻
ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.
jason grace dating hcs! ٩(ˊ〇ˋ*) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
pairing: jason grace x child of hypnos!reader warning(s): none!! js fluff :) a/n: i love children of hypnos, u stay sleepy ! also me writing this running off five hours of sleep ( the most ive gotten this week ) yikes..
mr gets up willingly at six am nd his sleepy lover ♡
there are times where u literally have to beg jason to go back to bed cause omfg what r u doing. its six am. no u r not going to go run. no the early bird doesnt get the worm. go. back. to. sleep.
hey nd most times it works cause the thought of holding u close and a sweet sweet dream is enough to get him back in bed
but other times noooo he goes running 🙄
what is bro running from? sleep???
omg but then literally knocks tf out by like nine
one of the times when you had a sleepover planned together
you were running a little late cause ur cabin's ac wasnt working nd everybody was tweaking out
so you had to stay behind and help fix it
by the time you finished and ran over to cabin one , jason was already passed out nd lightly snoring 😭
mind you it was like 9:15 pm
its ok tho u were tired asf too , who knew fixing the ac could be so hard ??
he apologized sm in the morning tho
but u were like its okay el oh el
he cant help it bro he needs his sleep almost as much as he needs you
its better that he falls asleep early than stay up super late tho
cause like when he was helping plan out the new cabins, it was impossible to convince him to go to sleep
he wouldnt stop working nd u were like 😠 fool 😠 go to sleep 😠
nd he was like no thank youuuuu ♡
so you used your powers on him cause he hadNT SLEPT IN DAYS
u were both mad at each other in the morning and things were painfully tense
but you sat down nd talked it out like mature ppl ♡
he srsly hates fighting, he already does it with monsters nd shit so much, he doesnt want to do it w you :(
he apologized for being ignorant and promised he would be better about taking care of himself instead of burying himself in work
you apologized for using your powers on him without saying anything first, and promised you wouldn't do it again ( unless its necessary ) :))
to this day, youve still kept your promises ♡
jason is SUCH a sucker for when you touch his hair
the most relaxing thing everrrrr
i will die on this hill ppl dont play w me
his hair would be soft asf bro
best believe he uses a good conditioner !!
he lets u play w his hair nd do wtv u want with it cause like ~relaxing~
so best believe you have a 0.5 of him with all his hair tied up and looking like a palm tree
0.5s of jason would literally be flawless asf but scary
cause ur like omg by bf is so cute- god DAMN somebody get this man contacts
he looks amazing but THEM EYES
terrifying. staring into ur soul.
theyre cute tho ♡♡
you OBVI have matching pjs
i cannot decide if jason would go to sleep w just pj pants nd no shirt or if would have light blue and white striped pants, a button up shirt, slippers, a cap with a little fuzzy ball at the end, nd a candlestick
jason grace is a SPECTRUM OKAY
but he buys u so many plushies ugh
you own so many jellycats im so jealous
he helps u name them nd their literally ur children like
u have matching build-a-bears !!!
the voice memos are messages u made for each other :(
his to u is a quick ramble about how much he loves u but gets cut off cause he only had 20 seconds ♡♡
nd u get matching outfits for them!!
urs is named 'sleepy' and his is named 'sparky' ♡
i feel like jason gets some real bad nightmares
like yea every demigod does but he gets his more frequently nd their more graphic bcs of what he's seen and gone through :(
most of the time they arent even messages from his dad, theyre just really bad flashbacks of horrible times in his life
but ever since you started spending ur nights together, theyve toned down so much
now he even gets dreams abt your future together sometimes :((
he really wants to tell you about those dreams cause they feel so real but hes scared that youll think its weird or get uncomfortable
little does he know you get those exact same dreams ♡
and on the same nights as he does...
CAUSE UR MEETING IN UR DREAMSSSSSSS
nd thats how ur dad shows his love to you !
zeus doesnt gaf. wtv we dont like him anyway
i mean sometimes hes like erm gtfo my cabin 🤨
but doesn't actually do anything
u literally dont care for anybody's thoughts tho cause you bagged a baddie as sleepy as you ♡
an two: ik i didnt talk abt sleepovers together but like ive got a jason fic called sleepover (thats also gn!) if u wanted to read that :DD but i hoped u enjoyed and have a good day/night!! GO STREAM THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT.
peace from manhattan,
percy jackson ♡
#percy jackson#pjo#heroes of olympus#pjo x reader#heroes of olympus x reader#hoo x reader#jason grace#jason grace x reader#percy jackson x reader#by bells ♡⋆ ࣪.#whos the cute boy with the wide blue eyes? ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
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Nachash || jhs
Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (ft. Taehyung) Genre: Supernatural AU, Demon!Hoseok, Med Student!Reader, Smut, One night stand, Angst, Horror AU, Incubus! Hoseok, 90s AU, Yandere!AU Rating: 18+ (don’t interact if you’re a minor) Word Count: 21.4k+ Summary: After the loss of both of her parents, Y/N decided to sell their home in Florida and move back to New York City, a place that she has little memories of despite 10 years of living in Harlem. Her world begins to shift, and she starts to lose sight of dreams and reality, and at the center of it all is Hoseok, a sweet man who gives her a strange sense of deja vu, but she can’t help but wonder if he is who he says he is and why a strange bar keeps popping up in her nightmares. Warnings: Strong language, bad medical terminology (I tried), Hoseok has a demon side (like physically different), main character (somewhat) death (graphic), graphic violence, reader slowly losing her mind, heavy religious themes in a large chunk of this, explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, rough sex, manhandling, hard dom Hoseok, so much blood, low-key a yandere but not really, blood play, blood drinking, begging for life, extreme emotional manipulation, growling, over stimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it up), DARK ENDING, dubious consent (mind control/mood control/literally cannot leave Hoseok's presence), reader is severely mentally ill by the end of this, demonic possession, Stockholm syndrome, this is not a cute demon romance, read at your own risk, stopping here since there’s a lot just let me know if I missed anything A/N: After posting a teaser for this fic two years ago, I finally got around to finishing it! I’m still working on my smut skills, so I apologize in advance, but I hope you can get down with my favorite (and extremely evil) demon man. Happy Halloween (or, to my fellow Pagans, Happy Samhain)!
Prologue || Listen to the Playlist || Cross posted on AO3: here
Nachash (noun) "snake; serpent". Derived from the Hebrew root n-ch-sh.
July 1997
"How are you feeling?"
I sighed, pulling open another box. Unpacking was always the worst part of moving, like some cosmic joke designed to break you down piece by piece. Plates stared back at me from the box, and I clenched my jaw. The one on top was chipped—another thing on my growing list of replacements. I pulled it out and set it aside, determined to deal with it later. The rest of the plates went away in the cabinet. The broken one would be tossed.
"I don't know," I confessed. "Mom died. I'm everywhere."
My brother's hum of acknowledgment was all I heard. Miles had always been a quiet, distant sort, barely speaking to our parents. Their deaths hit him hard, but more so with Dad than Mom. Dad had been the stable one, while Mom was a relentless storm—never satisfied, constantly pushing, always demanding. To her, a doctor and a lawyer weren't enough. Miles had always seen her as aggressive, unyielding, and ever discontented. And Dad? Well, his complacency had its own way of grating.
Miles had moved to Oregon right after graduating from FSU, never looking back. We'd made the trek to see him a few times, but he'd never returned the favor. My stint in New York had mended our relationship somewhat. He visited frequently and spent his summers with me, and after Dad passed, he made a point to see Mom at least once a year. I didn't mind the trips to Portland; my Jacksonville home had become his family's vacation spot.
"So am I," he said, his voice betraying a hint of fatigue.
They'd been at each other's throats, arguing constantly, with his wife loathing Mom. Yet, I knew Miles held some affection for her despite their tumultuous relationship. He'd never truly made her proud, and that haunted him. I understood, but when I moved back home, the dynamics shifted. Mom used me as a weapon against Miles, making me the favored child, the one who came back. Miles was the ungrateful one who'd married the wrong woman.
Mom always blamed Trinity for Miles' "bad attitude." Dad knew better. I knew better.
"So," Miles shifted gears, "when can we come and visit?"
I smiled, "I'll be out there for Thanksgiving and Christmas. So maybe next summer?"
"That's a long wait."
I chuckled, "Well, Rory starts school this year and Trinity's pregnant. You're just as busy as I am."
I'd been the one with the most on my plate for years. Mom, a real estate agent, rarely left home, while Dad ran a plumbing company. When Miles went to college, I was knee-deep in medical school applications. During my residency, Miles was grinding through law school. When I moved back to Florida, I was buried in ICU shifts while he graduated and started his own practice. He met Trinity, and the two became inseparable. Mom despised her, but I saw how they brought out the best in each other. My career-driven life had left me disconnected, and while Mom reveled in it, I resented it.
Kids changed everything for them. Aurora was their miracle baby. Trinity had struggled with fertility for years, and when they finally had a child, it was as if their world had transformed. My brother was spent, and Mom's resentment boiled over. She was always bitter that they hadn't uprooted their lives back to Florida for the grandchild. By then, Miles didn't care. He'd made the trips for Dad but after Mom's cruel comments about Trinity's weight and their daughter being "too pretty" to be her granddaughter, Aurora never set foot in the family home again.
"Aurora is driving me crazy," Miles groaned. "She won't stop talking about the baby."
"As a big sister, I can tell you she's just being a normal kid."
"I know that," I could almost hear his eye roll. "I'm just worried. It's still early, and I don't want her hopes to get too high. Trinity's scared of another miscarriage."
It would be her sixth.
"Try to stay positive, bub," I bit my lip, surveying the cluttered room. I'd never finish today. "If it happens, it happens. But don't go into it expecting the worst."
"Between Mom and this…" He trailed off.
I understood his fear. Trinity was a few years older than me, and her anxiety was palpable. At 38, any pregnancy brought its own set of worries. Last I heard, Trinity was considering getting her tubes tied if this one didn't make it. The heartache was becoming unbearable.
"Hey," I kept my tone gentle, knowing that riling him up wouldn't help. "Keep your head up. Her next appointment is soon. Ensure she's sticking to bedrest, and you'll be fine."
"What if it happens again?"
My heart broke for him. Miles had always been the rock, the one who seemed unshakeable. Seeing him this vulnerable starkly contrasted with the angry kid he'd been in high school. Mom had pushed his buttons mercilessly, and I had vague memories of our squabbles, but they paled compared to the constant battles he faced with her.
I wondered if he ever grasped how I felt. He always thought Mom liked me more, but it was more about her being able to overlook me. While he fought for her attention, nothing I did ever really mattered. It was like a fog followed me, obscuring me from their view. Sometimes, it would lift, and Mom would acknowledge me, but then it would return, and I was forgotten.
"You'll get through it," I assured him.
We chatted a bit more. Aurora was excited about kindergarten and had picked out new uniforms. She was obsessed with Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood, and her new backpack reflected that. She'd even given her Prince Wednesday stuffed animal to the baby. It was everyday family life, but the emptiness in my chest grew. I longed for laughter and the innocent joy of children in my home.
"Trinity's calling me," Miles said, his voice muffled by distance.
"I'll talk to you later. Love you."
"Love you too, sissy."
I smiled faintly, "Later."
He hung up before I could say anything else. I glanced around the room, eyes narrowing at the boxes that seemed to taunt me with their mere existence. All of them were my own—mainly books, a few other odds and ends. The sadness that gripped me was relentless. I'd always had the most demanding job, the tightest schedule, and the deepest insecurities. Miles was angry, and I was desperate to be seen, so much so that I followed every command without question. Now, here I was, alone, surrounded by regret.
Dating felt like a cruel joke. My time in New York had alienated me more than anything else. That fog of invisibility from my childhood had returned with a vengeance. Coworkers would barely look at me for over a second; people on the street seemed oblivious to my presence and dates. They always ended badly. They weren't evil men but would forget my name within seconds. It felt like I wasn't real, like I existed on some other plane.
The only person who seemed to remember I existed anymore was my brother and his family. Dad's Alzheimer's had robbed him of any memory of us before he passed. Mom, too incoherent at Hospice, never stayed awake long enough to acknowledge my presence. Sometimes, it felt like Miles would momentarily forget me, only for my name to pop into his mind at predictable intervals—like clockwork, only calling on specific days and times, usually if he was planning a trip. It upset me more than I could recall, but now I wondered why.
"This place won't unpack itself," I muttered aloud.
I'd talked to myself so much it felt almost normal. I knew I needed to make friends, that without connections, I'd end up as lonely as my father, but the idea seemed futile. No one saw me clearly. No one ever had. When I searched my memories for anyone who had seen me, I came up empty. No one had ever really seen me. No one ever would. Instinctively, I knew this despite the facade of normalcy I tried to maintain. I had a job, a family, a house. I wasn't haunted. Or… maybe I was just being childish. I was simply forgettable, unremarkable. This I knew.
"I exist," I whispered, the words reverberating loudly in the stillness of my apartment.
The silence that pervaded my life mocked me with its omnipresence.
"How the hell do you get lost in a bar?"
"It's a lounge, sha," came a voice behind me.
What a peculiar dream. I took a bite of my sandwich, returning to the rude awakening that morning. I rarely remembered my dreams, if I had them at all. But last night had been different. I'd found myself in a dimly lit room with a man I couldn't recall clearly, dressed in white and speaking with an accent I couldn't place. I woke up before anything significant happened. The dream had been woefully uneventful.
The floor was almost eerily quiet tonight. Aside from the constant beeps and monitors scattered around and George Gilmore in room 11 watching football, no one spoke. The nurses here seemed less lively than I was accustomed to, their faces vacant, their words few. I kept to my small office most of the night, avoiding their station.
We'd had one death so far—a patient with a DNR who suffered a stroke shortly after midnight. Another woman had been pronounced brain-dead an hour ago. We'd wait until tomorrow to pull the plug, so her daughter could say goodbye. I didn't count her in my tally. The night crew had a way of seeing me even less than the others, and I didn't like them much.
"Hello, Doctor."
I jumped, startled. At least he had the decency to look sheepish. My irritation took me by surprise. I wasn't typically agitated; my feelings were either muted or overwhelming. He pushed his hair back, revealing messy chocolate brown locks, and held a clipboard stained with dubious marks.
"Sorry," he mumbled, shifting awkwardly under my gaze. I was already weary of his presence. "I was told you were new and thought I should introduce myself before leaving for the night. I'm Damon Glass, one of the anesthesiologists."
"Y/N Y/L/N," I replied, my voice flat and uninviting. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise," he smiled, showing a gap between his front teeth that reminded me of my father's. It was a rare sight among people my age. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to come to me. Dr. Whitlock is on the floor, and I believe Morgan Fletcher is on call."
I nodded, appreciating the information but ready for him to leave. My distaste had faded, but I preferred brevity in conversations, especially with outsiders. I disliked the feeling of interacting with them. It was why I preferred dealing with the nearly dead; they rarely spoke, and when they did, I knew they'd be too medicated to remember much. The families were more accessible to handle than the ones back in Florida.
It was odd how my thoughts could veer into such morbid territories. Almost as morbid as my enjoyment of overseeing dying patients. It was not as macabre as my unbidden glee at my mother's death alongside my brother, but it ranked high on my list of flaws.
"Have a good night," I said, returning to my computer to refresh my emails.
Dr. Glass seemed to take the hint, leaving with an awkward smile and wave.
August 1997
I stood outside the door, the muffled sounds of grief seeping through the walls like a relentless, jagged current. The family's sorrow was palpable, a heavy fog that followed me down the hallway. I hoped to catch them in a better moment, but the cruel truth of this place was that better moments were rare. With a resigned breath, I raised my hand and knocked. The room fell silent, and a strained voice called out, allowing me to enter.
Elizabeth Fraiser had lived a life filled with grace and elegance. Once a dancer whose feet had carried her across Europe's stages, she met her husband in Paris and married him there. They had settled in New York, where her days of ballet had given way to a quieter role as a ballet instructor in Jersey. She had raised a family, and her pride in her children was as evident as her passion for dance. She spoke of them with a joy that contrasted sharply with the emptiness of my own mother's words.
Now, Elizabeth was in the late stages of lung cancer. Her family had clung to the hope of letting her pass away at home, but the relentless pneumonia and ceaseless pain had pushed them to make the difficult decision to admit her here. Her condition had worsened sharply today, and her family was struggling to cope with the harsh reality.
"Good afternoon," I said softly, a gentle murmur in the oppressive silence.
"Nice to see you," Elizabeth's oldest son, Elijah, managed a weak smile. We both knew he wasn't fond of doctors, but he tolerated me because I didn't overstay my welcome. "Mom's been sleeping for a while."
I stifled a sigh. Her body was crumbling, and delivering bad news was never easy. The small comfort was knowing she would soon feel nothing at all. We planned to increase her morphine dosage and withdraw all other medications. Her family would need to agree, but I wasn't too concerned. Mary, her daughter, had debated extending her mother's life with her brothers.
"We're really at the end, aren't we?" Mary's voice was strained, her husband's arm around her for support. Among them, she was the calmest, but the edges of her composure were frayed. Her eyes were red, testimony to her unrelenting tears. "Will she be in pain?"
I explained our focus on alleviating her suffering. She would be less coherent in the coming days but occasionally rouse enough to interact with them between doses. We aimed to ensure she had the utmost comfort and relief in her final days. The youngest Percy took the news hardest and had to excuse himself. I held Mary's hand, appreciating the warmth of human connection. I prided myself on my bedside manner.
"I know home care wasn't ideal for you," I broached delicately, aware of their crowded lives and young children. "But I'm offering it as an option. Respite care is also available, though I understand it was stressful before. It's worth discussing."
Elijah shook his head firmly. Mary hesitated, but her husband's reminder to care for herself and their baby swayed her. Percy's wife raised concerns about her own health, cementing the decision. Elizabeth would remain with us in her final days. It was probably for the best—she was too frail and in too much agony without constant medication.
"Let me know if you need anything," I said, glancing at the family. The nurses are always available, and I'm on call until six. Is there anything I can get you before I leave?"
"Mom needs a bath," Percy reentered the room. A nurse had come by earlier, asking if we were ready to step out. Let them know they could come in."
The rest of my shift dragged on. Other families were terse and uncommunicative, and their responses were minimal. I understood their grief, but it did little to ease my weary spirit. The nurses seemed as disinterested in me as ever. I had long since given up trying to connect with them.
The air outside was crisp, almost biting. I walked to the subway, the city traffic too maddening to endure. I'd trade bumper-to-bumper frustration for the quirks of the subway any day. Last week, a man in a bunny costume rapped at six in the morning. The week before, a man argued with his reflection in the window. Last night, an elderly woman beside me commented on my disheveled appearance, lamenting that men didn't like that and worrying I'd die alone. I barely remember if I responded. I hated talking on the subway; her parting insult had stung me.
Tonight promised to be different. I left the hospital later than usual, after two code blues and an injury report for a nurse. Overdue paperwork and an insurance squabble later, it was past eight when I left. My walk was short, and the wait at the terminal was OK, but the train didn't arrive until 9:30. When I finally boarded, the car was almost empty.
Then a group of men entered. They were rowdy, pushing each other, their drunkenness a stifling cloud. I almost moved when they sat too close, but I didn't want to draw attention. I could feel their eyes on me. I clutched my bag tightly, fingers brushing the can of pepper spray hooked to its strap. I was almost home. Just three more stops.
"Hey," one of the men called out. I ignored him. "Hey, you."
I hated the subway.
"Leave her alone."
That voice caught my attention. I knew it—or thought I did. When I looked up, I was met with a stranger, yet his presence felt oddly familiar. He was striking, with tanned skin and sharp features that made his brown eyes stand out under the harsh fluorescent lights. He took the seat beside mine, and I didn't stop him. The men were back to their raucous laughter, and I was forgotten. I relaxed slightly, hoping to remain unnoticed.
"Sorry about them," he said, his warm and soothing voice a gentle tenor that evoked a sense of nostalgia. "Are you OK?"
I nodded, unable to meet his gaze. Something about him tugged at the edges of my memory, yet he wasn't a celebrity, and I was sure I'd never met him before. Perhaps we'd crossed paths on the subway? My brain was playing tricks on me.
"Yes," I said softly. "Thank you."
Despite myself, I stole glances at him. I had to remind myself to breathe when I ventured past his neck. He was slender, but there was a subtle strength beneath his clothes. If he noticed my scrutiny, he said nothing. He returned to his book, but I was convinced that his eyes were still on me when I finally looked away.
I jolted awake, my body wracked with shivers despite the suffocating warmth of the blanket. The room was deathly silent, save for the moonlight streaming through the window like a spotlight on a stage set for a performance I never auditioned for. I rolled over, trying to bury myself deeper into the cocoon of my blanket, but then I heard it—a voice, soft and faint, yet carrying an unsettling authority.
“Oh, Y/N,” the voice crooned, dripping with a sinister allure. “It’s time. Come to me.”
Confusion and dread clawed at my insides as I stumbled out of bed. The room was a far cry from my own—stone walls, thick and oppressive, casting shadows that seemed to dance with malevolent glee. The floor beneath my feet was icy, a stark contrast to the comfort of my bed. My nightgown, white and delicate, felt like a mockery in this alien environment.
This wasn’t my room.
The voice came again, seductive and commanding. “Y/N, come out, come out, now. I’m waiting for you.”
Compelled, I moved to the window. Below, in the moonlit expanse of the lawn, stood the man from the subway. His face was eerily illuminated, his head tilted back as if inviting me to join him in the darkness below. His eyes—glowing a brilliant gold—seemed to reach out to me, promising unspeakable things if only I would take the leap.
I couldn’t tear my gaze away. He raised a hand, crooking a finger in a silent invitation. It was as if an invisible thread was pulling me toward him. Entranced, my feet moved on their own accord. Barefoot, the cold stone beneath me was a cruel contrast to the warmth I’d just left behind. I wandered through hallways and passages that felt simultaneously foreign and intimately known, descending into the shadows where he waited.
As I emerged onto the lawn, his smile made me shiver. He approached, his fingers brushing the side of my face—teasing, tantalizing, yet never quite touching.
“I’ve waited for you for so long,” he murmured, his voice a velvet caress. “So very long. And now, now you’re mine.”
A fragment of my mind screamed in protest, shouting that I didn’t belong to him, that I didn’t even know who he was or why I was here. But a deeper, more primal force tugged at me, pulling me closer until I was nearly touching him. His presence was unsettlingly soothing, and I took a breath, feeling the heat of his gaze.
“That’s right, my lamb, come closer,” he coaxed.
An overwhelming longing surged through me—irrational, illogical, yet so profound that I couldn’t resist. I needed him to touch me, to make the connection complete. I tilted my head to the side, exposing my neck to the moonlight.
He responded immediately, his fingers trailing along my throat, their cool touch sending shivers through me. I gasped, my body lighting up with each delicate brush.
“More,” I heard myself plead, pressing closer.
“Say it,” he demanded, his arms enveloping me in a possessive embrace. “Who do you belong to?”
“You. I’m yours.”
He cradled my head in his hand, leaning in. His lips were smooth against my skin, but his teeth were sharp as they pierced through flesh. I screamed as he drank deeply.
I awoke with a start, sitting up in bed, my hands clutching at my throat, searching for any sign of injury. The skin was intact, unbroken. I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm my racing heart that felt as though it might burst from my chest.
The lamp flickered on with a click, casting a harsh, unwelcome light that made me squint and shield my eyes. Grabbing my robe and a cup, I shuffled out of the room, the chill of the hallway hitting me like a slap. I closed the door quietly behind me, trying not to disturb the oppressive silence that hung heavy in the air. The bathroom, bathed in the sickly fluorescent glow, was as deserted as I’d hoped.
I filled my cup halfway with water from one of the sinks, then leaned against the cold, sterile tiles, watching my reflection in the mirror as I took slow, deliberate sips. The dream—the one that had shaken me awake—felt so unnervingly real.
I traced the line of my neck with trembling fingers, the blue vein just beneath the surface. What kind of twisted message was my mind trying to send me with that nightmare? It had been a full-on gothic horror—a relic of some crumbling English manor, not the kind of place I ever imagined myself visiting, unless I was buried in a pile of classic literature.
And him. The monster. Even now, as I closed my eyes, I could still see his face—a blend of dark allure and cruel beauty. His eyes, oh, those eyes. They’d held me in thrall, made me willing to surrender to any demand he made. I could almost feel his cold touch, see his smile that promised both ecstasy and agony.
Wasn’t the whole vampire-mother-stuff supposed to be a metaphor for sex? Maybe that’s what my subconscious was trying to shove in my face—sex, or the glaring void where it should have been in my life.
I studied my flushed reflection, feeling the heat in my cheeks. I shook my head, trying to shake off the nightmare’s grip.
The man sat next to me again. It had been a week since I last saw him, and my body still reacted to his presence. Today, I admired his chiseled jawline and elongated face. He was an exquisite oval with a strong profile. This time, he caught me looking and smiled shyly.
"I'm Hoseok."
The name sent a shiver, stirring something familiar and unsettling. I quickly brushed off the uneasy feeling. It was probably my own insecurity.
"Y/N," I replied, unable to tear my gaze away from him.
He resumed reading, and I focused on crocheting a stuffed rabbit for my nephew. Miles had called that morning to update me on Trinity's appointment. The toy wasn't perfect—far from it—but I wanted to give it a try.
"How would you feel about dinner?" Hoseok's voice broke through my thoughts.
I paused my knitting. "I enjoy dinner. Who doesn't?"
He chuckled, a rich, velvety sound that made me blush. "Cheeky."
I bit my lip, unsure if it was a compliment. I felt a pang of embarrassment, struggling to maintain my composure. The first date I'd been asked on since undergrad, and I was fumbling. Miles would have a field day.
"Would you like dinner with me?"
I hesitated. "Yes."
Hoseok's laughter resonated deeply within me, and I felt a jolt of warmth as he slid closer, his knee brushing against mine. He was impossibly warm. Instinctively, I shifted away, uncomfortable with his proximity. There was something off about him, an unsettling vibe that I couldn't quite place.
But then he smiled, and that soft, disarming grin evaporated all my doubts. He was dazzling. My eyes fluttered shut as his cologne enveloped me, weakening my knees. I had to remind myself to breathe. He was captivating.
"Do you like Italian?" he asked, his voice deeper now.
I nodded, struggling to steady my breath. Panic and embarrassment churned within me, but I couldn't ignore the physical response. My mind was flooded with inappropriate thoughts of Hoseok, vivid and intrusive. I gasped, feeling a flush of heat I hadn't experienced in a long time.
"Does two weeks work?"
Snapping out of my daze, I looked at Hoseok and nodded.
"I'm off on the 27th."
He smiled, and I stared at his teeth longer than necessary. They seemed different—sharper, perhaps, with redder gums. I blinked, reassured that they were just as I remembered. My sleep deprivation must be getting to me.
"Meet you here?"
We agreed to meet at six. I'd catch the 5:30 train to ensure I arrived before him. As the subway pulled into my stop, I waved goodbye and stepped out, only to realize I hadn't asked him where we were going. The thought lingered until the following day.
The voice is louder now, sharper, as if it’s cutting through the fog of my half-sleep. “Y/N? I’m waiting for you. Come to me now.”
I hear it, feel the tug of it dragging me towards him, but fear clamps down on me like a vice. My bare feet are numb on the cold, wet grass as I stumble through the twisting maze of hedges, trying to escape the invisible force that pulls me like iron to a magnet.
My breath hitches, coming fast and uneven, as I sprint around corners, the long white gown tangling around my legs and tripping me up. I’m not sure anymore if I’m searching for a way out or if I’m trying to find him.
I turn another corner, my ankle twists and pain shoots through my leg as I crash into an open space—a small, white fountain sits in the middle, surrounded by benches.
Through the flickering light of the moon dancing on the water, I see him. Not a figment of my imagination, but there he is, standing as he promised, waiting.
Hoseok walks towards me with a slow, deliberate grace. He bends, lifting me effortlessly from the mess of my tangled gown and into his arms. I feel a peculiar sense of completeness as he sits on a bench, cradling me like a precious artifact.
“Were you bringing me your gift? Or were you trying to run from me?” His voice is soft, almost tender, and yet it cuts through me. I open my mouth to speak, but no sound comes. I’m lost, adrift in confusion.
I’m mesmerized by his flawless beauty. My fingers move of their own accord, reaching towards his face. That smile returns, and I see the satisfaction in his eyes.
“You may touch me.” His lips part slightly, and I press my fingers against them. His tongue flicks out, wrapping around my fingertip and drawing it into his mouth. Before I can react, I feel a sharp bite.
I gasp as he licks the blood that wells up from the small wound. “A small treat,” he murmurs. “That’s why you came, isn’t it?”
I find myself nodding, helpless under his gaze.
He licks my finger one last time, savoring the taste before swallowing. “They told me you’d be extraordinary, worth every moment of waiting. Yet, your taste is beyond anything I ever dreamed.”
My body reacts to his words and his touch—still innocent but making my skin feel like it’s stretched too tight, like I might explode. I let my head fall back, exposing my neck to him as his tongue traces a path up the sensitive skin.
And then he bites.
I bolt awake, heart pounding as if it might burst from my chest. I fumble in the dark, reaching for the light switch, feeling profoundly alone with Rose away for the weekend.
I throw off the covers and stagger to the mirror, desperately checking my neck. There’s nothing there, no sign of the bite.
A cold shiver runs down my spine. I grab a blanket and a book, and huddle in the hall lounge, surrounded by the harsh light of every lamp and the incessant flicker of the television, trying to drive away the lingering shadows of the nightmare.
September 1997
I eased into my seat, the familiar weight of my bag pressed to my left side and draped an arm over it as if to claim it for my own. It was the first night off from the relentless grind of being on-call since mid-August and the first real night out in years. I’d never been much for the party scene, and medical school had only sharpened that aversion. The last time I went out for drinks was nearly six years ago, a fleeting memory of bar hopping that I’d abandoned early, too exhausted to keep pace with my friends.
Tonight, however, felt different. There was a nagging sense that I was misremembering that long-ago night, like a foggy half-remembered dream where something vital was missing. My life in New York had become a blur of medical texts and sleepless shifts, the grueling 24-hour days erasing the finer details of my existence. My final year had been a carousel of discomfort, but the specifics eluded me, lost in exhaustion. Perhaps a creep of some sort, some misguided doctor with a name I couldn’t quite grasp—maybe that’s what had soured my memory.
I pulled out my phone and scrolled to find Hoseok’s contact. The old SeaTAC was still a relic of the past, but I clung to it out of stubborn habit. Despite its age, it was a lifeline to the outside world, a way to escape the pager’s relentless beeping. I longed for the day when I could toss the landline, but the cost of cell phone minutes constantly reminded me of its importance. With his endless chatter, Miles made sure I burned through those minutes with alarming frequency.
“Hello?” Hoseok’s voice was silky, a comforting balm after a long stretch of clinical detachment.
“Hey,” I breathed, trying to keep my voice steady. “Just got on.”
“See you soon,” he said, his tone warm and reassuring. I could almost picture the smile on his face, and it made me smile in return. His words seemed more benign over the phone, starkly contrasting the intensity of our recent encounters. “Save my spot.”
The car was beginning to fill up, Friday night revelers claiming their space, making it nearly impossible to save a seat. I promised I’d try, even as I felt the crushing inevitability of the crowd. His chuckle was soft, almost intimate.
“Thank you, sweet girl.”
I bit my lip, the endearment both flattering and unsettling. A tiny voice in my head cautioned me, even though Hoseok had never used his terms of affection demeaningly. The voice grew louder when he wasn’t around, whispering warnings I couldn’t entirely dismiss. It was strange, this constant inner debate.
“I’m going to hang up,” Hoseok said, his voice a sensual murmur. I moved the phone away from my ear, puzzled by the seductive undertone. Was he implying something more?
Was I expecting more from tonight?
“I’m running up my minutes,” he laughed, breaking the spell of my thoughts.
“Oh,” I blinked, snapping out of my reverie. “Sorry. See you in a bit.”
The recurring dreams of him were becoming a distraction. My nights were plagued with vivid, unsettling fantasies, leaving me restless and frazzled. I wiggled in my seat, pressing my thighs together to quell the unsettling arousal. Reality would surely disappoint, no matter how compelling he seemed in my dreams. I resolved to hold off on sex for now. I didn’t want to tarnish his allure with premature intimacy.
“Why did you want to be a doctor?” Hoseok asked, his fingers entwining with mine.
The wine started hitting, and the night air was crisp against my skin. Hoseok was the perfect gentleman; the evening was a beautiful respite from my routine. I leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body, and sighed.
“I wish I could say it was for noble reasons,” I said, my voice tinged with melancholy. “In truth, I just wanted my family to notice me. I thought graduating medical school would make them see me, but it never quite worked out that way.”
Hoseok hummed thoughtfully beside me. I turned my gaze away, feeling a strange mix of comfort and sadness.
“None of us are perfect,” he said after a pause, his voice low and contemplative. “I’ve made my share of mistakes, and my choices haven’t always been noble.”
I leaned closer, savoring his warmth and intoxicating scent. Despite my fatigue, the night felt lighter, almost magical. He was mesmerizing, and I was drawn to him in a way I hadn’t expected.
“I have a hard time believing that,” I said with a soft grin, snuggling closer.
“Well,” he said, his arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me into his side. “You haven’t had me all to yourself yet.”
A shiver ran down my spine, a curious blend of fear and delight. The night had been a rollercoaster of emotions—enchantment and apprehension intertwined. Hoseok’s smile was disarming, melting away my unease, but I made a mental note to reflect on my feelings once I was alone. He seemed almost too perfect, and that nagging pit in my stomach grew again before vanishing.
“I don’t want the night to end,” Hoseok whispered, his breath warm against my ear as we waited for the train. “I’m having such a good time.”
I smiled, “What kind of girl do you take me for?”
“When can I see you again?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine longing.
“Soon,” I promised. “I’m getting the next few weekends off now that the other fellowship student is starting. My supervisor is trying to get me off every Saturday.”
“It’s a good thing my boss is flexible,” Hoseok purred, causing my heart to race. “Otherwise, I’d never get to spend time with you.”
I wanted to be annoyed by his clinginess, to remind him I wasn’t his girlfriend, but instead, I found myself grinning. His words made me feel seen and appreciated. Despite the anxiety he sometimes stirred in me, I was eager to be close to him. He looked at me so intently that I was willing to overlook my reservations. Maybe it was just butterflies?
“Where do you work?” I asked, trying to divert my thoughts.
Hoseok was a bartender at a speakeasy in Manhattan, where he’d worked since it opened. He had hinted at it throughout the evening, teasing me with its obscurity.
“It’s a smaller place,” he said amusedly. “You’ve probably never heard of it.”
“Try me,” I challenged, my heart pounding strangely.
“Dauphine.”
The name hit me like a jolt. Images of dimly lit corridors and crimson hues flashed in my mind. I was sure I’d never been there, but the name stirred a disquieting sense of déjà vu. The dream from July, the man from my dreams—there was a connection, but it eluded me.
As we stood in the bustling, well-lit area, I edged away slightly, unsettled. Hoseok was a charming gentleman, but the name “Dauphine” had ignited an inexplicable dread. Despite his humor and warmth, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something—or maybe I was just afraid of what I might find.
I stole a furtive glance at him, and it felt as though I’d known him far longer than the scant time we’d spent together. His face was oddly familiar, like a recurring image in a dream half-remembered. I had met him before, somewhere.
“No, you haven’t,” his voice cut through the night like ice. It was cold, detached, far from the warmth he’d shown me all evening. A shiver snaked down my spine, and I forgot to breathe. His grip on me tightened as though sensing my legs would buckle beneath me. “You’ve never known me before.”
The fierce scowl on his face startled me. His eyes, glowing with an eerie golden light, seemed to burn through me. Everything about him felt otherworldly like he was something less than human. A fragmented memory of a man sitting alone at a bar surged up, only to dissolve into nothingness.
“I am Hoseok,” he whispered, his voice weaving a heavy spell over my senses. “I am your boyfriend. We’ve been together a long time, and we’re in love. You just tripped and hit your head.”
A sudden jolt of pain made me wince and try to pull away from him.
“Does it hurt?” His voice was deceptively tender, and I sighed through the pain.
“Yes,” I groaned, rubbing my forehead. “Does it look bad?”
Hoseok’s grin was unsettling, a blend of fake sympathy and amusement.
“You were lucky this time. Just a barely noticeable red mark.”
I chuckled at my own clumsiness. I wasn’t usually this awkward, but my heel caught on a pavement crack. I gingerly rubbed my ankle and was relieved to find it unscathed. Even my heel had survived.
“Jeez,” I said, looping my arm through his. “I completely forgot what we were talking about.”
Hoseok’s smile broadened, clearly enjoying my disoriented state. I rolled my eyes and reached over to gently tap his chest. He responded by sticking out his tongue, which only made me scoff at his childishness.
“We were talking about work,” I said.
I nodded as if on autopilot. “How’s the bar?”
Hoseok worked at a swanky speakeasy in Manhattan, though I was trying to remember its name. Despite being together for what felt like ages, I had never been there. I was never one for bars, while Hoseok reveled in the place’s gothic charm. The name eluded me again as I tried to recall it.
“Tae’s excited,” he chuckled. “With Halloween around the corner, business will pick up.”
I hummed, my thoughts still lingering on the name. I had thought his boss was Tristan, but I must have misremembered. I shrugged off the nagging thought.
“You should stop by the bar,” I heard myself say, sounding oddly mechanical.
“Sounds fun,” he replied, his tone laced with a predatory edge.
Looking back on that night, it’s almost laughable how easily he swayed me. The way he possessed me was undeniable; soon, he would own every inch of me. Those dreams of him were his twisted way of showing love—how much he craved to touch me, to keep me bound to him. It’s sick and vile, and the thought of what we’d become makes me nauseous, yet to him, it’s love.
“Let’s get you home,” he said, his arm wrapping possessively around my shoulders.
I remember leaning into his side, kissing his cheek as if I was floating. His presence was intoxicating. Even now, I can feel the ghost of his touch and his body's heat. It’s a twisted sort of longing I have for him. This place is cold and dark without him, without his reminders of how much he cares and wants me to scream for him. Here, time stands still, and life continues in a strange loop. I can’t say whether I’m alive or dead, but I know it no longer matters. Once I entered this world, my life ended and began anew. Hoseok made me feel both alive and dead simultaneously.
And as I write this, my heart aches for him. My fingers tremble at the thought of him returning to claim me again. The pain he inflicts makes my heart pound and my stomach clench. I miss him.
It both sickens and excites me.
October 19, 1997
My bones groaned and cracked like ancient floorboards beneath my weight as I fought to catch my breath. Sweat slicked my skin, and I began patting myself down, half-expecting to find something tangible to anchor me to reality. My surroundings slowly came into focus. The harsh fluorescent lights above stung my eyes, but their sterile brightness offered an odd comfort. I was at home, cocooned in thick blankets that had twisted themselves around my legs. The bed beneath me creaked with the effort of supporting my restless form. I sighed, flopping back down, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare that still clung to me like a shadow.
The dreams had become relentless, evolving from vague echoes of past terrors into something far more insidious. These weren't fueled by mere fear but by an overwhelming, consuming desire that felt dangerously close to swallowing me whole. The weekends were the worst, and after seeing Hoseok, they had turned almost infernal. He was always there in my dreams, his skin smooth and flawless, his deep brown eyes burning into mine with an intensity that left me gasping for air.
Every time I closed my eyes, his image flickered behind my eyelids like a dark, seductive film. The scenes always ended the same way: I would climax, my body convulsing in a fevered rhythm, while I looked up to see his face contorted in ecstasy. His deep, guttural groans would reverberate through me as his grip tightened on my skin. He would finish inside me, and my spent body would collapse beneath him. He would drape himself over me, showering my chest with tender, lingering kisses. The setting varied—my bed, a chilling, unfamiliar void, or a dimly lit lounge—but the conclusion was always the same.
With a sigh, I fumbled for my phone, my fingers brushing the cool surface. An email from Hoseok awaited me, and a smile crept across my face despite the haze of exhaustion. He was the epitome of a perfect gentleman—never pushing beyond my boundaries, never demanding more than I was willing to give, always accommodating his schedule to mine. Even in matters of intimacy, something many men would aggressively pursue, he always respected my pace. In the hectic blur of the past month, we hadn’t had a moment alone. He hadn’t even broached the topic. As I thought about it, I couldn't recall the last time we'd been intimate outside of these dreams.
From: Hoseok Jung Subject: All Hallows Eve Date: October 19, 1997: 03:05 To: Y/N Y/L/N Good morning, love, I'm sorry for the early message, especially since this is one of your rare mornings off. I hope I didn't wake you. I'm heading home from work and couldn't stop thinking about you. Taehyung is throwing a simple Halloween party this year, and luckily, it falls on a Friday. Would you like to join me? I think it could be a lot of fun. I love you. Hobi
I grinned and began typing my reply.
From: Y/N Y/L/N Subject: RE: All Hallows Eve Date: October 19, 1997: 04:15 To: Hoseok Jung Hobi, Don't worry, you didn't wake me. I was tangled up in strange dreams and was deep asleep when your email arrived. Sadly, I doubt I'll fall back asleep anytime soon, so I plan on catching up on Buffy or Beyond Belief—whichever's on. Hopefully, I won't get stuck with reruns of Seinfeld, not really my thing. Lucky for me, I'm working mornings this week. I'd love to come to your party. Call me when you wake up. Love you, too. Y/N Y/L/N, M.D. Palliative Care Physician, New York-Presbyterian Hospital
It barely registered that, to my knowledge, I had never said "I love you" to him before. I had never really pondered the oddity of our relationship. My memories of our time together were a disorienting blur, but I never questioned it. It wasn't entirely my fault—he had ensnared me, body and soul, and any unresolved threads might make it harder for him to maintain control. Regardless of our tangled history or how elusive it seemed; I was simply glad he wanted to see me at that moment.
I lay huddled in my bed, my body a coiled spring of anticipation, each nerve ending tingling with the foreboding that had stalked me all day. His voice had been a persistent whisper, a sultry hum that turned my name into a haunting lullaby. It was a melody wrapped in an insatiable longing, a caress of words that promised more than I dared to imagine.
Tonight, I wanted to resist. I tried to muster the strength to ignore the insidious pull, that relentless tug drawing me toward him like a moth to a flame. The very idea of defying him churned my stomach with a nauseous dread. But the threads of his influence were woven so tightly around me, it felt like trying to escape from silken chains.
Then it came, cutting through the murkiness of my thoughts like a scythe. His voice, now sharper, more insistent, shattered the fragile veneer of my resistance.
“Y/N. Come to me now.”
With a sudden jolt, the pretense of defiance evaporated. I threw off the blankets as if they were chains, leaping out of bed and flying through the darkened hallway. My feet barely touched the ground as I hurtled down the stairs, each step propelled by an unrelenting force, dragging me inexorably toward him.
He waited for me in the foyer, bathed in an eerie glow that made him look like an apparition from a fevered dream—or perhaps a nightmare. His smile was both welcoming and chilling, a promise wrapped in malice. When he took my hand, his lips brushed against my fingers with a cool, electric touch that set my entire body aflame.
The intensity of my reaction embarrassed me, but he tilted my face up to meet his gaze, shaking his head with a look of almost pity.
“Your blood knows what it wants, my lamb. You must let your mind follow.”
My face burned with fierce heat, but the compulsion pulling me to him was too overpowering to resist. He guided me through the meticulously manicured gardens to a secluded alcove framed by dense, sculpted hedges. He seated himself on a bench, drawing me onto his lap with a practiced grace that made me feel both cherished and helpless. His eyes, dark and unfathomable, never left mine, promising secrets I couldn’t begin to comprehend.
“Are you ready, my lamb?”
Without a second thought, I bared my neck to him. The desperate craving for the bliss and torment of his bite had consumed me completely; waiting was no longer an option.
He lingered, his tongue tracing a tantalizing path along the delicate skin of my throat. The sensation was almost unbearable, and I found myself begging with a voice that sounded alien, strained.
“Please.”
And then he bit.
I shot awake, my heart a frantic drum in my chest. I had fallen asleep hunched over my desk at the hospital, my neck stiff from the awkward angle. Rubbing away the ache, I cursed the book that had plagued me with such vivid nightmares. I needed to talk to my brother again; this couldn’t be anything but a cruel trick of the mind.
The glowing digits on my alarm clock mocked me with their late hour. I stood up, stretching and feeling my heartbeat slowly return to normal. I changed into a t-shirt and shuffled toward the bed, determined to banish the lingering unease.
As I passed the window, something froze me in place. I looked down into the parking lot and saw him standing under a flickering lamppost, his gaze locked onto mine with a predatory intensity that made my blood run cold.
It was Hoseok—or at least, it looked like him. But the resemblance was grotesquely twisted. His eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, a sickly luminescence that cut through the night like a malevolent beacon. His skin was peeling away in ragged strips, as if he were shedding himself like a decaying husk. This was no longer my Hoseok. He was a creature of nightmares, a monster forged from my darkest fears.
My fingers clung to the windowsill as I stared, my body paralyzed by the overwhelming urge to run to him, to give in to the magnetic pull of his presence. I watched as his lips moved, shaping a single word that seemed to echo through the chill of the night.
“Soon.”
I gasped, my breath catching in my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the vision to vanish. When I opened them again, the parking lot was empty, the lamppost casting its pallid light over a sea of unmoving cars. I rubbed my eyes in disbelief, snatched my blanket and pillow, and stumbled back to the on-call room, desperate to escape the sinister call that still haunted the dark corners of my mind.
October 28, 1997
"What should I do?" the nurse asked, her name slipping from my mind like a shadow lost in the night.
"Give them some space," I replied, my gaze fixed resolutely away from the room across the hall. Elizabeth had just passed away, her DNR a cold, ironclad barrier that left no room for last-ditch efforts. Her family needed their final moments with her while we waited for the body to be transported. Mary was still wailing into her husband's chest, and Elijah looked like he'd been dragged through a storm, barely able to stand. Percy stood like a marble statue, his eyes glazed over while his wife clung to him. The sight of Percy’s frozen, unseeing expression twisted my gut in a way I couldn’t ignore. It reminded me too much of what I feared—and I needed to escape the suffocating atmosphere of grief.
"Should we get them out of the room?" another nurse asked, her thick southern drawl hinting at Memphis. "Seeing her like that can’t be good for their mental well-being."
I shook my head. "Let them have their last moments in peace. Offer condolences and check on them regularly."
I fiddled nervously with my ID card, the familiar unease gnawing at me. My wounds from the day seemed too fresh. Miles surfaced in my thoughts again, and I resolved to call my brother on my way home tonight. Hoseok wasn’t working tonight, so he wouldn’t join me on the subway.
"I'm going to check in with 211," I murmured, watching Percy leave the room, clutching his phone like a lifeline. "I’ll be back in 5-10 minutes to see if the family needs anything. Just make them as comfortable as you can."
"You got it, doc."
The subway ride home was a silent affair. My headache throbbed like a relentless drum, and my stomach churned uneasily. The day had been heavy with more deaths than usual. Elizabeth’s family had eventually calmed down, but their kindness on their way out hadn’t eased the knot in my chest. I knew their pain intimately.
I called my brother as I made my way to the subway. Despite his complicated feelings about our mother, he was always supportive. The conversation ended abruptly when Aurora entered the room, demanding his attention. Miles had never truly understood my emotions; I doubted he ever tried.
The short walk home from the subway was a blessing, though the cold night air bit at my skin. I was grateful for the proximity of my apartment, but the streets were alive with noise—tourists laughing, gang members shouting outside their apartment complexes. I was relieved to escape the chaos, though my street wasn’t entirely free of foot traffic. My old apartment in East Harlem had been more of a hustle, with late-night carpooling with a coworker whose name eluded me. I knew it started with an 'A,' but the memory only worsened my headache. I set the thought aside for another time.
After selling the family home in Florida and vacation properties scattered across the country, I’d managed to buy a house on Astro Row at 100th and 30th Street. It was an old building—too expensive for its size, and initially, it seemed far from beautiful. But over time, it grew on me. I loved the brownstones, the front porches, the grand trees, and the quiet streets. I couldn’t imagine leaving. Even the renovations I’d planned were postponed. The charm of the old place had won me over, and I’d made peace with its quirks. I even got along with my neighbor, a small but welcome relief.
Tonight was quieter than usual, and none of my neighbors seemed awake. I missed the old man at the end of the street who used to sit on his porch, sipping coffee and waiting for dawn. It was nearly 4:30 AM. I shrugged and continued; my mind focused on the comfort of my bed.
Fumbling for my keys, I cursed quietly when my pockets were empty. My purse, a cavernous mess of clutter, swallowed everything. As I dug through it, a sudden burst of laughter behind me made me freeze. Two women strolled down the sidewalk, their laughter echoing off the walls. They were both stunning, their pale skin glowing under the moonlight. One of them locked eyes with me, her gaze piercing through the darkness. She looked at me as if she’d seen a ghost, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew me.
"Hello," she said, her voice as light and tinkling as a bell.
"Hi," I replied, feeling strangely off-balance.
The other woman seemed perplexed. Her beauty was almost ethereal, with blonde hair as pale as her skin and eyes as dark as night. Her gaze swept over me with an unmistakable disdain, her teeth bared in a slight sneer. Yet, despite her apparent coldness, she was undeniably beautiful.
"How are you?" the first woman asked, her voice soothing.
"Fine," I responded, my throat dry. "And you?"
The nagging headache intensified as I tried to make sense of the encounter, a sense of déjà vu wrapping around me like a tightening noose. The women moved on, their laughter fading into the night, leaving me with a lingering unease that clung to me like the shadows of my dreams.
She studied me, her face a shifting canvas of emotions before settling into a look of genuine confusion. I tried to place her but struggled. There was something crucial I needed to remember, something just out of reach, but my mind remained stubbornly blank. A frantic urge to call Hoseok seized me.
The realization hit me like a cold slap. Why did I think I needed him? I tried to convince myself I could handle this alone. But deep down, I knew I needed him here. He could make this headache vanish, soothe the gnawing anxiety that had taken root in my chest. I missed him. I loved him. I needed him…
“What's your name?” she asked, her smile both disarming and unsettling, making my thoughts scatter like leaves in a storm.
“Y/N,” I replied, feeling dazed and disconnected.
“Cold night, Y/N,” she purred, her gaze never wavering. “You should get inside.”
I nodded absently, my words failing me as I fumbled with my keys. The blonde woman's giggle, filled with an eerie excitement, made me shiver. I wanted to retreat, to escape this strange encounter. I shoved the key into the lock, eager to shut out the unsettling night.
“Y/N,” the first woman’s voice halted me, her tone chillingly smooth. Neither of them had moved since they stopped. The blonde’s smile remained fixed, and I couldn’t bring myself to meet the other woman’s eyes. “Be careful out here. You never know who’s wandering around.”
I nodded, turning the doorknob, but her voice stopped me again.
“I work at a bar in Midtown,” she said, her words snagging my attention like a hook. I had always known she worked at a bar, but why was it important? “It’s called Dauphine. Ever heard of it?”
Yes, I wanted to say. That place haunted my nightmares, a dark shadow that clung to the edges of my memory. But I couldn’t piece together why. Hoseok would know. He’d make everything better. No, my mind screamed—he’d only make it worse. I couldn’t say how I knew this, but I wanted to listen to the little voice inside me tonight. Something was very wrong.
“You should come by sometime,” she offered. “We’re on 1st and East 54th in the far corner of the Diamond District. If you need anything, just ask for ‘Bootsy.’”
Bootsy…
“Are you okay with cherry liquor?” she asked.
I let go of the doorknob and turned to face them fully. I couldn’t meet either of their eyes. The sensation was all too familiar. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the answer I didn’t want to hear.
“Do you know Hoseok? He’s my boyfriend.”
The blonde hissed sharply. Bootsy gasped, her face a mask of surprise and something darker, more shadowy. It was clear that Hoseok was connected to these people, tangled up with my memories of New York, the root of all my confusion. I missed him. I loved him. I needed him…
No, I shook my head. Was that what he wanted me to believe? I wasn’t sure anymore.
“Yes,” Bootsy finally replied. “I’ve known him for many, many years.”
Before I could second-guess myself, I slammed the door shut and locked it. The blonde finally moved, stepping away from Bootsy and muttering something I couldn’t catch. She disappeared down the street, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.
“What’s wrong with me?” I muttered through the door, my voice tinged with desperation.
Bootsy’s response came through with a sorrowful edge. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
I shook my head, my headache pounding with such intensity that I could barely keep my eyes open. “It’s him, isn’t it?” I asked, my voice breaking. “I don’t understand what’s happening. It’s like I remember things but not really, and everything goes blank every time he’s around.”
Bootsy’s eyes, a deep crimson, darted around nervously. They seemed to glow faintly, like a cat’s eyes in the dark. Her dark hair framed her face perfectly, glossy and sleek. Bootsy wasn’t human. What she was, I couldn’t say. But she was somehow tied to the nightmares that plagued me, and Hoseok’s shadow loomed larger than ever.
“He’s a demon,” she whispered hurriedly, her words laced with a fear that seemed almost tangible. “I can’t tell you exactly what he’s done. I’ve never known him to keep someone around for this long, but whatever you’ve done to make him want you seems to have spared your life. You should have died back in ’92 with your friend.”
A friend? Someone else had been involved? Hoseok was a demon? The fragments Bootsy offered were like pieces of a shattered mirror, reflecting a reality I could barely grasp. I believed her, though. I had no reason not to. My memories felt like they were being twisted, distorted by Hoseok’s manipulations.
Then I thought of the creature outside of the hospital and felt my knees go numb. I hadn't hallucinated anything. It was real. It was him. Oh my God.
“We can’t talk for long,” she said, a look of pained urgency on her face. “He won’t sleep for much longer.”
“What can I do?” I begged, clutching my head as if I could squeeze out the pain. It was unbearable. “God, it hurts.”
“Nothing,” Bootsy’s voice trembled. “Hoseok wants you, and he’s never lost a game. It doesn’t matter where you go or what you do; he will win. Whatever you’ve been doing has kept you alive this long, but I don’t know how much time you have left.”
Her words hit me like a tidal wave, crashing over me and dragging me under. I had been a pawn in Hoseok’s twisted game, my life manipulated by his cruel whims. What did he want from me? My body? My soul? The realization was suffocating.
“Go to Dauphine and find Taehyung,” Bootsy instructed, her voice carrying a chilling finality despite its almost maternal tone. “He had a soft spot for you back then. If you’re lucky, he might be able to change you, make you like us. That might be enough to satisfy Hoseok.”
Taehyung. The name cut through the fog in my mind like a beacon, easing the throbbing in my head, if only for a moment. He had haunted my dreams, his image vivid: a white button-up shirt, his gentle hands, his voice firm yet tender, saying he didn’t want to share me. He had left me in that bar, but the details were fuzzy—how or why I had ended up there was a blur. All I knew was that I was lost, and he had once been my guide.
She paused, her eyes darkening with a weighty empathy. “You’d be luckier if Taehyung agrees to end your life before the demon does. I wouldn’t wish this half-life on anyone, nor would I be glad to see you die, but those are your choices. I can’t guarantee you’ll make it through this.”
“What happened in ’92?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper, thick with desperation.
Bootsy shook her head, her expression darkening with sorrow. “He killed your friend and tried to lure you away. That's all I know, and I don't have time to explain the rest. The sun’s about to rise, and your demon will be waiting for you to fall asleep. Don’t fight it. Let it happen. If he knows you’re aware of him, he might decide to kill you.”
It felt wrong to just let it happen. What would this mean for me in the end? Would knowing about his influence change anything? I couldn’t be sure, but if I wanted to buy myself time, I had no choice but to take the risk. I needed answers, a plan, anything to regain control.
“Y/N,” Bootsy’s urgent voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. “Your memories won't come back unless he wants them to. Let it go. Either way you'll be dead.”
With those final, haunting words, Bootsy vanished as quickly as she had appeared. The weight of my predicament pressed heavily on my shoulders, my impending doom looming like a dark cloud. I stumbled back to the porch, unlocked the front door, and sought refuge in the sanctuary of my bed. Bootsy’s grim mantra echoed in my mind as I tried to push aside my troubling thoughts about Hoseok, grappling with the uncertainty that lay ahead.
He appeared to me then, in a vision that was both intoxicating and horrifying. His eyes sparkled with a predatory thrill, his touch setting my skin ablaze, igniting waves of pleasure that crashed over me with ruthless intensity. His worship was ceaseless, his lips warm and insistent, as if trying to devour every shred of my resistance. I was swallowed by him, lost in a whirlwind of passion that twisted the love I once felt (at least, I believed I felt) into something darker, more insidious. I missed him. I loved him. I needed him…
Bootsy’s words had struck me like a death knell, sealing my fate in an irreversible descent. She had unwittingly set my downfall into motion, transforming innocent affection into a ravenous lust that consumed every corner of my mind. When I awoke late in the evening, the decision to call off work for the rest of the week came with a grim resignation. The struggle to stay awake was in vain; it was becoming starkly clear how deeply Hoseok’s control had embedded itself within me. The inevitable was no longer a distant threat—it had already begun to unfold, dragging me into its dark embrace.
October 31, 1997
I tugged nervously at my skirt, my fingers trembling despite the cool night air that should have been a relief. The address that had arrived this morning was burned into my mind, glaring at me from the top of the paper—Dauphine, the bar Bootsy had mentioned. My plans were clear: find Bootsy, get directions, speak with this Taehyung, and figure out my options. But the gnawing truth was unavoidable—no matter what I did, it felt like my life was already slipping through my fingers.
Sleep deprivation had become my relentless tormentor. My eyelids felt heavy, weighted down by leaden exhaustion, and my attempts to feign illness to dodge work had morphed into a grim reality. It was a battle to stay awake each day, and I feared that simply making it to this bar would be a Herculean task.
I stared at myself in the mirror, trying to adjust the wig perched precariously on my head. I’d opted for a lazy Halloween costume—a half-hearted Cher from *Clueless*. The yellow plaid blazer was a thrift store find, the skirt a serendipitous discovery. But the wig made me look more like a grotesque caricature than a character. Frustrated, I yanked it off and tossed it onto the floor. I’d have to go without it.
Yawning, I fought the overwhelming urge to collapse back into bed. My cab was on its way, and I had to be ready. I gathered my essentials—purse, house keys, phone, and a spare outfit��preparing for a night that could very well be my last. I steeled myself for the confrontation, even if it felt like a hopeless, losing battle.
My daily struggle with myself had turned into a monotonous grind. My feigned illness had kept Hoseok at a distance, but it had only given me more time to spiral into despair over his influence. My mind was a battleground, where fragments of my past life clashed with the twisted desires he’d implanted in me. Every morning, I awoke to a gnawing need, a desperate craving for him that left me feeling sullied and repulsed.
I stepped outside and drew a shaky breath of the crisp night air. Calling my brother was both a comfort and a torment. There was a chance this could be the last time I spoke to him, and the thought tightened my chest like a vise. I fought back tears as I dialed his number.
“Hello?” Miles answered, his voice warm and familiar.
“Hey,” I forced a cheerful tone, though it felt hollow. “Still out Trick-or-Treating?”
“We just got back,” he said. “Rory wants to talk to you.”
My heart ached at the sound of my niece’s voice. “Hi, Auntie,” she said, her voice sweet as ever. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, baby,” I sniffled, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Did you have fun?”
“Yeah!” Aurora’s excitement was a bright spot in my darkness. “I was Katerina, mommy was Miss Elaina, and daddy was Daniel Tiger.”
“That sounds amazing,” I wiped away my tears. “What about your baby brother?”
Aurora’s voice took on a scolding tone. “His name is Corbin, Auntie,” she said as though I should have known better. “He’s still in mommy’s belly, so he wasn’t anything. Mommy’s giving him candy.”
I laughed, though it was tinged with sadness. “How’s your mommy?”
“She says ‘Hi,’” Aurora replied. “We got the best candy! A lady was giving out big Starbursts. Daddy’s letting me have all the pink ones because I’m special.”
“You are special, sweet girl.”
A painful thought intruded—would Hoseok make them forget me if I asked him? The idea was almost too agonizing to bear. He’d kept me alive for five years, a perverse form of flattery that I struggled to appreciate. My self-loathing deepened as I thought about the life I was about to leave behind.
“Daddy says I have to go,” Aurora pouted. “Bye, Auntie.”
“Bye, Rory girl,” I choked out, my voice cracking as the tears welled up. “I love you.”
“Love you more,” Aurora’s sweet voice drifted through the line, a beacon of innocence in my storm of dread.
I gasped, the floodgates opening as I fought to keep my composure. “Impossible,” I managed to whisper, my throat tight with sorrow.
“Why?” she giggled, her innocent curiosity slicing through my resolve.
“Because,” I said, my voice barely a whisper, “I love you more than the world.”
Aurora’s laughter began to fade as she handed the phone back to Miles. The sound of her giggles and her mother’s laughter echoed in the background, a cruel reminder of the life I was about to lose. My heart clenched painfully at the thought of never hearing those sounds again.
“What’s up, sissy?” Miles asked, his tone tinged with concern.
“I was just heading out,” I said, forcing a tremulous cheerfulness into my voice. “Thought I’d call before my cab gets here. I’m leaving a little early.”
There was a heavy pause on the other end, a silence that spoke louder than words.
“Everything okay, Y/N? You sound upset.”
“No, no,” I hurried to reassure him, biting my lip to keep from sobbing. “Just tired. You know how it is.”
“You sure?” Miles pressed, his concern palpable. He was always too perceptive for his own good, but he never pushed too hard. I hoped he wouldn’t miss me too much.
“I’m positive, Bubba,” I said, my eyes darting to the cab pulling up to the curb. “My ride’s here. I love you.”
“Love you too, sis. Call me later?”
“I’ll try to remember in the morning,” I said, attempting to sound upbeat despite the crushing weight in my chest. “I know it’s late for you guys.”
I closed my phone with shaking hands and stuffed it into my purse, the weight of my decisions pressing down on me. The cab driver approached, his face a blur through my tears.
“Where to?” he asked, his voice a lifeline in the growing storm of my fear.
“1st and East 54th in the Diamond District,” I replied, offering a weak, strained smile.
“Dauphine?” The driver’s eyes flicked to me in the rearview mirror, a hint of something unsettling in his gaze. “Ever been there before?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled, trying to steady my breath. “I don’t remember it all that well. Guess I had too much fun last time.”
“Watch yourself,” the driver said, turning on the radio with a slow, deliberate movement. “That place is crawling with freaks.”
“Welcome to New York,” I muttered, more to myself than him.
He chuckled, his voice a touch too jovial. “Been here my whole life. My name’s Jimin. Call me if you need a getaway driver.”
The car rumbled with the low hum of R&B, Jimin fiddling with the radio as if trying to mask the creeping anxiety that gnawed at my insides. I mouthed the lyrics, trying to drown out the terror that threatened to consume me.
My thoughts were a twisted mess of fear and longing. The image of Hoseok, tainted by his manipulation, flickered through my mind. The desire to escape him was overpowered by the suffocating grip of my own confusion. Taehyung was my last, desperate hope—a fleeting chance at redemption. But deep down, a gnawing realization settled in I was already damned, teetering on the edge with no way back.
The mantra echoed relentlessly in my head: I miss him, love him, and need him…
I was spiraling, caught in a web of my own making, and the thought of facing what awaited me at Dauphine was almost too much to bear.
“We’re here,” Jimin's voice cut through the thick fog of dread that enveloped me.
“Thanks for the ride,” I muttered, my fingers trembling as I fumbled with the cash. I handed him a generous tip, a feeble attempt to cling to some semblance of normalcy.
The alleyway stretched before me, a grim path between the upscale buildings of the Diamond District. It looked less menacing than I’d imagined, but its familiarity offered no comfort. Dim street lamps cast weak pools of light that barely touched the encroaching darkness. I hoped—prayed—that Hoseok wasn’t already here. The fading daylight gave me just enough visibility to navigate, and the murmur of voices outside the bar was a small, shaky comfort. I clung to the hope that these voices belonged to ordinary people, potential witnesses if I needed to make a quick escape.
As I approached, the group of people outside fell silent. My stomach churned violently, and bile rose in my throat, threatening to spill. I couldn’t bring myself to turn and face them; their gaze was almost a physical presence, making my skin crawl even though I never looked directly at them. A low, sinister snicker from one of them sent a shiver down my spine, amplifying my fear. I hadn’t even seen their faces, yet their mere presence was enough to make me quake.
The bouncer at the gate eyed me with a scrutinizing glare.
“Password,” he demanded, his voice flat and unyielding.
“I-” I stammered, my mind racing to recall the password Hoseok had given me. “Audubon.”
The gate creaked open, and I slipped past the security guard, my heart pounding like a drum. Despite my nervous bravado, the bouncer’s indifference did little to soothe me. Once inside, I felt a fleeting sense of relief, escaping the unsettling stares.
I gripped my bag tightly, knuckles white, and started searching for the bar. The interior was starkly underwhelming—plush couches and private booths scattered haphazardly, with red neon signs pointing to the restrooms. The oppressive red and black color scheme was heavy, but thankfully devoid of any overtly horrific scenes. I had no desire for strobe lights or dance floors; the thought of walking into a trap was more than enough to keep me on edge.
Navigating through the dimly lit space, I felt like I was moving through a maze. The long hallway ahead seemed to stretch into an abyss, the darkness intensifying with each step. The oppressive gloom and the eerie silence made my nerves jangle. The jazz music that had been softly playing in the background had faded, leaving me in a disquieting void.
At the end of the hall, the emptiness was almost a relief. The silence was oppressive but meant I wasn’t walking into a room full of hostile eyes. Perhaps this was how I’d met Bootsy—wandering aimlessly until she had found me and guided me out.
The bar seemed to stretch on forever, an architectural labyrinth that added to my growing sense of dread. I held my breath as the walls seemed to close in, my anxiety a tangible weight pressing against my chest. The high ceilings and claustrophobic spaces combined to create a sensation of being trapped. My heels clicked sharply against the linoleum, the sound echoing eerily in the silence. The place felt more like a mausoleum than a bar. Every step heightened my unease, and the hairs on my neck stood on end as I glanced around, trying to ignore the creeping terror that threatened to overwhelm me.
“Hello?” I called out, my voice trembling as it cut through the oppressive silence. “Is anybody here?”
The sudden sound of a voice behind me made me jump, my heart racing as I spun around with a gasp that morphed into a shriek. My balance faltered, and I slammed into the wall, scraping my arm against the rough surface. The sharp sting of pain was immediate and searing. I clutched my injured arm, the pain and the shock making my vision blur. I turned to face the figure who had startled me.
He stood there, his white button-down shirt contrasting sharply with the dim surroundings. His tall, lean frame was framed by broad shoulders, and his long fingers seemed to move with an effortless grace. But it was his smile that made my blood run cold—a wide, boxy grin that stretched unnaturally across his face, his eyes glinting with a mischievous, unsettling light.
“My apologies,” he said, his voice dripping with a smooth, honeyed tone. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I glared at him, struggling to steady my breathing and regain my composure. “It’s fine. It didn’t kill me, did it?”
He chuckled softly; a sound that felt more sinister than soothing. “You’re bleeding,” he said, his gaze dropping to my arm.
I looked down and saw blood seeping through a tear in my blazer. The sight of my own blood was like a cruel reminder of my vulnerability. The pain, combined with the sight of my blood, pushed me to the edge. My hands shook as I raised them to my face, tears welling up uncontrollably. The enormity of my situation crashed down on me like a tidal wave. Everything felt chaotic; my life had been turned upside down, and the relentless pounding in my head was unbearable. I should have stayed home. At least Hoseok’s presence, while twisted, had been a semblance of comfort.
The despair was suffocating.
“Are you okay, sha?” His voice was soft, but his touch on my arm was disconcertingly gentle.
I laughed, a hollow, despairing sound. “Does it look like it?”
“No, you look upset,” he replied, his eyes glinting with an unsettling mixture of sympathy and amusement.
“You don’t say?” I snapped, rolling my eyes and jerking my arm away from his touch.
Despite my evident distress, he remained unnervingly calm, his smile lingering like a dark shadow. His pleasure at my discomfort was unsettling, and the aura around him felt eerily similar to the disquieting presence of those outside. His attractiveness was overshadowed by a deeply disturbing quality that made me want to flee. It was as if fear had paralyzed me, pinning me in place.
Suddenly, a chilling realization hit me. As I forced myself to examine his face more closely, I recognized him from the shadows of my past. He was strikingly beautiful in a haunting way, like Bootsy. His pale skin was almost luminescent, and his eyes, once hidden in the darkness, now revealed flecks of red that seemed to glow with a menacing, otherworldly light. They were mesmerizing yet horrifying, a dangerous allure that made my skin crawl. The spell he cast was broken as quickly as it had begun, and I struggled to look him in the eye again.
“You’re looking for me, aren’t you?” His voice was a silky whisper that seemed to wrap around me, tightening with a sinister intent.
Embarrassed by my earlier outburst, I nodded slowly. My hope of finding help felt increasingly elusive as the night grew darker and more menacing. All I wanted was to escape, but the hope that things might improve clung stubbornly to me. Taehyung exuded a disorienting blend of warmth and menace, a mix of comfort and dread that left me feeling more lost than ever.
“I’m sorry for being snappy,” I said, my voice quivering as I wiped away a tear. “I don’t remember you all that well.”
Or at all, my mind whispered in the encroaching darkness. The more I looked at him, the more I felt Hoseok’s oppressive influence tugging at my thoughts. Images of Hoseok’s touch, his voice, his eyes—each one flared in my mind with an insidious intensity. He misses you; he loves you, he needs you…
“Requiem was wrong,” Taehyung murmured, his fingers chillingly cold as they cradled my face. “You’re too far gone.”
“Who?” I managed to ask, my voice trembling and my head spinning. His touch was both numbing and intoxicating.
“Bootsy,” he cooed, his breath a mix of cotton and sweet pine needles. “She said you had a chance, but she was mistaken. My friend has already completed the bond.”
“W-what?” I whispered, dazed and confused. The throbbing ache in my head resonated with Taehyung’s presence. “What bond?”
“Maybe not,” he whispered, his proximity making my pulse race.
When his lips met mine, they were like ice, yet the jolt of electricity that surged through me made my knees buckle. His laughter was dark and twisted as he wrapped an arm around my waist, his tongue brushing against my lips. I mewled, clutching his shoulders as the electric sensation overwhelmed me. His groan sent shivers through my entire body, and the echo of Hoseok’s voice in my head was relentless. He misses you, he loves you, he needs you…
Suddenly, I shoved Taehyung away, gasping for air as a searing pain exploded in my head. It felt as if a sledgehammer had struck my temple. My vision swam, and I collapsed to my knees, tears streaming down my face as I sobbed uncontrollably.
“Poor child,” Taehyung crooned, kneeling beside me. His scent, soothing yet oddly comforting, did little to ease the tremors wracking my body. “I’m so sorry, but I cannot help you.”
“I’m going to die,” I sobbed, my voice cracking under the weight of my despair.
“Yes,” he said calmly. “The pain will lessen once you accept it; accept him.”
“What does he want?” I managed to choke out.
“Can’t you see?” Taehyung’s eyes glittered ominously in the dim light. “He believes he’s in love with you. It’s a pity, really. I want nothing more than to keep you, but I can’t risk angering him. He would destroy Requiem for revealing his secrets; she is my most cherished friend. Do you understand?”
Numbly, I nodded. I’m going to die. I miss him. I’m going to die. He loves you. I’m going to die. I need him. I’m going to die. I love him. He needs you. I’m—
“Your eyes look just like his,” Taehyung marveled, his gaze softening. “He’s bound to you in a way I’ve never seen before.”
As I stared at Taehyung, my vision began to blur, and the voices in my head whispered louder in the dark corners of my mind. Their weight pressed down on me, my eyes rolling back until all I could see was a void. When I came to, I was horrified to find vomit splattered across Taehyung’s pristine white shirt. His expression twisted in horror and pain as he watched me unravel.
A dark, malevolent presence loomed near, its acrid stench of soot and kerosene overwhelming my senses. My head throbbed as if it had been cleaved in two, and a grotesque, pecking sensation gnawed at my exposed, vulnerable insides. Taehyung’s icy touch against my rigid form offered little comfort as I lay helpless against his chest, terror seeping in with every passing second.
“There’s my girl!” Hoseok’s voice cut through the haze of despair, and just like that, the pain evaporated.
I exhaled, sinking into Taehyung’s embrace. His body felt like ice against my fevered skin, a chilling contrast that brought an unexpected relief. His cool fingers traced my scalp, their touch a soothing balm amidst the chaos.
“I hope you understand Bootsy’s decision,” Taehyung’s voice was as cold as his touch, carrying a weight of finality. “She thought you were still playing games. But she was wrong.”
A deep, resonant rumble filled the space, and Hoseok’s voice emerged from the darkness like a spectral echo.
“Requiem has every right to her judgment,” Hoseok said, his voice a smooth caress laced with menace. “If it were anyone else, I might not care. But Y/N’s suffering is a consequence of her meddling. I had hoped to keep her alive.”
“Why?” I croaked, the question barely escaping my lips.
“You’re my special girl,” Hoseok purred, his voice dripping with a twisted, cruel fondness. “So innocent, so malleable. You’re perfect.”
A strange calm enveloped me as I lay against Taehyung, the tumult of emotions and pain fading to a low murmur. Hoseok’s presence hung over me like a dark, oppressive cloud, his words a cruel mockery of the comfort I desperately sought.
Taehyung’s fingers moved through my hair with a cold, almost clinical precision. “You’ve been chosen,” he said softly, his voice carrying an unsettling calm. “It’s a rare bond that neither Bootsy nor I can undo. I wish there was something more I could do for you.”
My vision blurred, shadows of past anguish swirling around me. Hoseok’s voice echoed in my mind, a haunting lullaby that twisted my insides. “You’re mine, Y/N. No matter how you struggle, you are woven into my essence.”
The room seemed to constrict, the walls inching inward, shadows elongating and darkening. A biting chill settled over the space, the whispers of the damned intertwining with my deepest fears. I could almost see their forms, spectral and menacing, reaching out from the darkness.
I struggled to my feet, the world spinning dizzily around me. My head throbbed with a relentless ache, my heart pounding like a trapped bird. I stumbled away from Taehyung’s unnervingly composed presence, my eyes darting frantically for any sign of escape or salvation.
“Y/N,” Hoseok’s voice was a dissonant blend of soothing and threatening. “Don’t run from me. You belong here, with me.”
My breath came in ragged gasps, the overwhelming urge to flee battling with a stubborn thread of hope tangled in my despair. My thoughts were a chaotic mess, clinging to the faintest possibility of survival amidst the encroaching darkness.
I turned to Taehyung, my gaze pleading, desperate. “Is there no way out? Is there any hope left?”
Taehyung’s expression softened with a mixture of pity and sorrow. “Try to enjoy your final moments.”
Footsteps echoed ominously down the corridor, each step deliberate and foreboding. My heart leaped as a figure emerged from the gloom. Bootsy. Her presence was both a flicker of reassurance and a shadow of dread.
“I’m sorry,” Bootsy’s voice was a murmur of regret in the darkness.
I looked at her, then back at Taehyung, and finally at the encroaching shadows that seemed to reach out with a ravenous hunger. The weight of the choice, of my impending doom, pressed heavily on my chest, threatening to crush me under its gravity.
With a shuddering breath, I steeled myself. “I can’t let this happen to me,” I said, my voice trembling but resolute. “I don’t want this.”
The room seemed to hold its breath, the darkness thickening. Hoseok’s laughter echoed through the void, a low, mocking sound that sent icy shivers down my spine. “Of course you do. You wouldn’t be writhing on the floor if you didn’t.”
The shadows deepened, the walls closing in as if reality itself was warping to ensnare me. A cold grip tightened around my soul, a force dragging me back into the abyss I had fought so hard to escape. An aching chill settled below my diaphragm, squeezing the breath from my lungs. My head spun again, his voice a soft whisper in the recesses of my mind. I miss you. I love you. I need you…
Don’t leave me.
Taehyung’s expression hardened into one of grim resignation. “You’re already bound to him. The bond is too strong.”
As I fought against the invisible chains tightening around me, the futility of my struggle became all too apparent. The darkness swallowed me whole, dragging me back into the depths I had desperately tried to escape.
“Please,” I whispered into the void, but the darkness consumed my plea. “Please, no.”
Hoseok’s voice filled the void, smooth and victorious. “Welcome home, darling.”
The last glimmers of light vanished, leaving me in an eternal night, a prisoner of my own choices and the dark forces that had ensnared me. My mind fractured under the weight of the consuming darkness, and as the final remnants of my resistance crumbled, I faced the harrowing truth.
There was no salvation. No escape. Only the endless, consuming dark.
And in that darkness, I was utterly, irrevocably alone.
I don’t know how long I’ve been trapped in this suffocating darkness—hours, days, months, or maybe even years. Time has become an abstract concept here, slipping through my grasp like the thin veil of reality that separates me from the void. The only link to the world beyond this prison is Hoseok, a ghostly presence who appears with a gleam in his eyes that chills me to the bone. His voice, carrying the weight of a thousand tortured souls, always asks the same haunting question: How are you feeling?
We were never friends. Each passing day has sharpened my memories into a cruel clarity. I don’t know where my physical body is—doubtful it’s anywhere near this place. The ink and paper I use to write materialize out of nowhere whenever I need them, appearing and disappearing like phantoms in my disturbed mind. This place defies all logic and reason.
Initially, I fought Hoseok with every ounce of my being. Each refusal brought excruciating pain that felt like it would tear me apart. My screams echoed back at me from the oppressive void, unanswered and ignored. Hoseok would slip into the darkness with a silent, predatory grace, his hot hands roaming over my shivering body before I even knew he was there. I would scramble away, howling and begging him to take me home, but he always left without a word.
Eventually, I gave up the fight. I accepted that escape was impossible, even though my soul still ached for my old life. The pain eased only when I surrendered, and Hoseok’s visits grew more frequent. They were filled with idle chatter about his plans for me. I learned he was a demon, and I was destined to become one too. The possession would erase most of who I once was, but when I awoke, we would be forever linked as master and shade. My freedom would only come after I took my first human life, but that day seemed impossibly distant. Hoseok savored every bite of my soul with a mournful delight.
What I felt for Hoseok wasn’t love—it was an obsession, a malignant force that had seeped into every corner of my being. “A natural reaction of a shade to its master,” he said. I was bound to him, and escape was nothing but a cruel illusion.
The first signs of my unraveling appeared when Hoseok vanished for days on end. In the infinite darkness, where time had no meaning, his absence was a torment of its own. Despite his power to bend reality, he chose to leave me here, dependent on his presence for any sign of change. I began talking to myself, my voice the only sound in the oppressive silence. I spoke for hours, my throat raw and hoarse from the effort, desperately trying to fend off the encroaching madness.
I felt like an addict in withdrawal. I don’t recall when hallucinations began, but soon I was conversing with a phantom chorus of voices. Deep down, I knew it was Hoseok orchestrating these illusions, but my fractured mind twisted reality into something I could barely comprehend. My hatred for him only served to cloud my already distorted perception.
As time dragged on, I grew weary. My speech turned into riddles, convinced I was a prophet receiving divine revelations. Raised Catholic, I had long drifted from faith, but the darkness reignited an obsession with God. I clung desperately to fragmented Bible verses. Hoseok, ever the manipulator, provided me with a Bible. If I weren’t so far gone, I might have questioned his uncanny ability to fulfill my twisted needs.
When I told Hoseok about my religious background, he laughed, and the darkness morphed into a cathedral. For the first time, there was something tangible to focus on during his absences. It was both a prison and a gift. The pews were filled with spectral congregants, and every day became Sunday. I feverishly wrote sermons, warning of the apocalypse. Hoseok attended with a devotion bordering on reverence, but he always left too soon.
The withdrawal pangs paralyzed me, but incessant talking kept the crushing loneliness at bay. I remember the first encounter after becoming accustomed to this madness. My body trembled with need, yet my mind remained alert. Each denial of release brought physical agony, and Hoseok’s visits grew more frequent and prolonged. My breakdown was inevitable.
On the day of my final descent, I felt his presence before I saw him. My struggle had reached its nadir. Despite my lingering hope for escape, Hoseok’s presence shattered my resolve. I became an all-too-willing participant in his dark designs. Even now, as I lie prostrate in my despair, I can’t escape the haunting reality of my existence.
The words of the prayer rolled off my tongue like a ghostly murmur in the dim, solemn church. Each syllable was a desperate plea, a sacrament of my crumbling faith:
“Soul of Christ, sanctify me.”
“Body of Christ, save me.”
“Blood of Christ, inebriate me.”
This prayer was a twisted sacrament, a litany of sacred pleas that felt increasingly like cries into the void.
“Water from Christ’s side, wash me.”
“Passion of Christ, strengthen me.”
“O good Jesus, hear me.”
I bowed my head, eyes squeezed shut like a child hiding from monsters under the bed. My hands gripped tightly in a futile attempt to hold onto my sanity. I prayed not just for absolution but for a distraction, for him to stay away, for the sinful thoughts to dissipate like smoke in the sun.
“Y/N,” a voice whispered, spectral and insistent, urging me to rise, to accept, to finally bend to its will.
Reluctantly, I dragged myself to the pulpit, my legs trembling. I focused on the Gospel before me, the rhythm of my breath, the rehearsed words of today’s homily. I could hear murmurs of anticipation swelling in the pews, bouncing off the stone walls like echoes of forgotten promises.
Did they know? Did they sense the darkness creeping into my soul?
To be honest, I was unsure if anyone was really there or if my mind was playing tricks on me. This place had a maddening ability to distort my perception. I steadied myself, nodding to the organ player, offering a fleeting smile to the choir’s children—figments of my fractured mind. Their eyes, hungry for guidance, believed in my wisdom, though I felt utterly unworthy. Their gaze was a reflection of my own inner torment.
My eyes locked on a figure in the front row, right side, five seats in. My breath hitched, caught in my throat, as I beheld him. Jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket—an irreverent defiance slicing through the sanctity of the church. His gaze was a burning, unholy fire that cut through the darkness with unnerving clarity.
In that moment, the last vestiges of my sanity crumbled, leaving me exposed to the consuming darkness that had become my prison.
I steadied myself, nodding to the organ player, and offered a fleeting smile to the choir’s children, who I no longer believed were real. My gaze wandered over the congregation, each face a testament to a faith I felt unworthy of. Their eyes, brimming with expectation, seemed to pierce through me, demanding guidance I could no longer provide. I questioned my own sanity, wondering if anyone in that room could see how profoundly empty I felt.
I once had everything figured out. Before this… before him.
My eyes locked on a single figure in the front row, right side, five seats in. My breath hitched, caught in my throat. There he was: jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket—a casual defiance that sliced through the church’s sanctity like a blade. His legs were crossed, hands poised by his sides, eyes ablaze with a fire that seemed to burn straight through my composure.
No holy book in his hands, no righteous smile on his lips—just an unspoken, rebellious challenge. His presence was a magnetism that pulled me toward a pit of temptation and sin. I forgot my sermon. I forgot the vows and promises etched into my soul. The solemn pledges made to men of faith and to God. Promises I had written daily to stave off the creeping insanity.
Those promises now felt like distant echoes, overshadowed by him. His eyes, his lips, his rebellious aura—an inferno of forbidden heat that ignited a longing I could no longer contain. I closed my eyes, desperately trying to escape the searing image of him. Abs, legs, an all-consuming heat that seemed to draw me into its vortex.
When I opened my eyes again, the fire remained. A cough from the crowd jolted me back to the present. I tugged at my collar, the symbol of my childhood and a cruel gift from Hoseok. It used to offer comfort, a sign of belonging, but now it felt like a noose tightening around my neck.
The faces of the congregation were a sea of silent, unspoken questions. Their eyes bored into me, filled with unvoiced suspicions and judgments.
Shit.
My fingers trembled as I gripped the edges of the pulpit, trying to anchor myself amidst the spiraling chaos. The eyes of the congregation felt like spectral judgments, each one a reminder of my spiraling failure. Hoseok’s presence, fixed in my peripheral vision, was a constant, unsettling pull—a dark promise of chaos just beyond the edge of reason. It pressed heavily on my chest, a suffocating weight threatening to collapse my fragile sanity.
I forced my gaze back to the Gospel, attempting to focus on the familiar lines of scripture, hoping they would restore my fractured resolve. But the words on the page blurred and twisted, tangled in the storm raging inside my head. Each verse felt like wading through molasses, and a bead of sweat trickled down my temple, mingling with the cold sweat already gathering at the base of my neck. I cleared my throat, trying to regain control, but the sound emerged as a strangled rasp.
The whispers grew louder, like rustling wings pressing against the walls of my sanity. My heart pounded like a funeral drum, each beat a reminder of my mounting desperation. I could almost hear the devil’s laughter, mocking my feeble attempts to maintain a façade of righteousness.
Hoseok’s gaze was unwavering, a predator’s gaze that seemed to sear through my composure. His movements were fluid, deliberate—like a hunter preparing to strike. My mind raced, desperately searching for an escape from this hellish vortex. I glanced at the crucifix behind me, its hollow eyes and outstretched arms now a pitifully inadequate shield against the encroaching darkness. The sacred symbol that once offered solace now seemed like a cruel joke, highlighting how far I had strayed from purity.
The murmurs of the congregation grew insistent, a chorus of impatient whispers that echoed like an unholy chant. The church, once a sanctuary, now closed in around me, its weight suffocating. I took a deep breath, summoning the last remnants of my willpower. I forced myself to meet Hoseok’s gaze again, confronting the fiery rebellion in his eyes. He offered no sympathy, only a silent taunt that echoed my own guilt.
With a trembling hand, I reached for the microphone. My voice cracked as I began to speak, the words spilling out in a disjointed stream. I struggled to reclaim my authority, but with each passing moment, my grip on sanity slipped further. The congregation’s expressions shifted from curiosity to concern, then to alarm. Their faith faltered under the weight of my unraveling composure.
Hoseok’s gaze remained fixed, a dark star in a sea of light, drawing me inexorably towards his gravitational pull. My voice faltered, becoming increasingly erratic, reflecting the chaos within. The church fell into a tense silence, broken only by the rustling of the congregation’s uneasy shifting. I felt every eye on me, their silent judgment a palpable force.
My final words came out as a barely coherent murmur, a defeated whisper lost in the oppressive silence. I stumbled away from the pulpit, my mind a tempest of confusion and dread. As I retreated from the glaring scrutiny of the congregation, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was stumbling towards some dark, inevitable reckoning. Hoseok’s gaze followed me, a constant, unsettling presence as I fled the sanctuary.
I collapsed into the shadows behind the altar, my breath coming in ragged gasps that echoed through the oppressive silence of the church. The darkness around me felt like a living entity, wrapping itself around my chest and squeezing, threatening to suffocate me. Hoseok's eyes lingered in my mind, their haunting intensity a constant reminder of the sin and torment that had become my existence. The certainty of my spiraling downfall felt inescapable, and every breath I took seemed to deepen my dread.
The pews had emptied in an instant, leaving the room cloaked in a suffocating silence. My heart pounded as I watched Hoseok move toward me. The man before me was no longer the mortal guise he had once worn; his true form emerged, dark and unnervingly compelling. His eyes, once warm and inviting, now burned with a shadowed hunger that quickened my pulse with a mix of terror and something I couldn’t quite name.
“Y/N.” His voice, soft and reverent, seemed to carry a sacramental weight that sent an icy shiver down my spine. There was a truth hidden in those syllables, a meaning only he understood. As his nearness intensified, confusion and fear danced across my features. His calm, deliberate hand cradled my cheek, the touch both tender and overwhelming. The heat of my skin seemed to beckon to him, an invitation that terrified and enthralled me simultaneously.
"You're so lovely," he whispered, his voice a gentle murmur that barely masked the wild intensity in his eyes. His touch guided me backward with a grace that felt almost otherworldly. The church seemed to dissolve around us, melting away into a space that was unsettlingly familiar—a fragment of my life from New York. The red brick of the two-story house brought a strange, bittersweet comfort, like a fragment of a life I had once known. It calmed my racing heart with its eerie familiarity. He led me to the front door, his touch both comforting and possessive.
The lock yielded effortlessly, and as we crossed the threshold, the gravity of the situation settled like a stone in my stomach. The house, once a sanctuary of normalcy, now felt like a prison, its walls closing in with a menacing intimacy.
"So perfectly lovely," he murmured again as he closed the door behind us. I stumbled back, my nerves crackling with an unsettling energy. It wasn’t just fear anymore—it was something darker and more confusing. A part of me ached for normalcy, for escape, while another part was drawn to him with a desperate, confusing need. The line between terror and an inexplicable, forbidden desire blurred beyond recognition. I clung to the last shreds of my sanity, even as I felt myself unraveling under the weight of my own conflicted emotions.
"Why are we here?" I asked, my voice trembling with a mix of breathlessness and an unspoken longing. My heart pounded with a confusing blend of fear and desire. It was as if clarity had returned to me for a fleeting moment, yet I was still tethered to the confusion Hoseok had woven into my days. His promises of relief had begun to erode the pain, even as they wrapped around me like a vice. I remembered the dreams he'd planted in my mind, their seductive whispers blurring my sense of reality.
"I thought you might feel more at ease here," he said softly, his tone smooth and soothing as he followed me through the cluttered living room. Each backward step I took seemed to draw him closer, his presence an inescapable shadow. "Do you like it?"
I hesitated, glancing around at the artifacts of my past—family photos, treasured mementos, relics of a life that now felt so distant. The room was a museum of a future slipping away from me, and Hoseok's eyes seemed intent on taking it all. "Yes, I do," I whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. The room, once a sanctuary of normalcy, now felt like a stage for his dark play.
"I'd like a drink," I said, placing a hand over my racing heart. I clung to the pretense of normalcy, desperate to maintain some semblance of control. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt a flicker of my old self. "Is there anything here? Surely you would... like one... as well."
Hoseok, having long since discarded any pretense of humanity, closed the distance between us with unsettling swiftness. His movements were almost too fluid, his presence too intense. His hands, warm and steady, framed my face with a possessive grace, his gaze fixed on the pulse in my neck, the rich, inviting blood beneath my skin.
"Oh, Y/N, my sweet, innocent little lamb." His voice, a velvety murmur, sent a shiver down my spine. His touch, trailing down to my neck, felt both magnetic and maddening. His eyes lingered on my flesh with a hunger that was almost palpable, a craving that seemed to consume him as much as it did me.
I trembled in his embrace, my conflicting desires mirrored in his touch. A soft moan escaped my lips, my breath warm and trembling with a heady mix of fear and desire. His smile widened, a predatory glint in his eyes as he encircled my waist, his touch moving possessively lower, tracing the curve of my hips and thighs. The tension between fight and flight heightened the charged atmosphere, leaving me both desperate and disoriented.
His eyes traced the flush of my lips, a reflection of the flush between my legs. The scent of my arousal mingled with my anxious heartbeat, a call to the beast inside him. His senses seemed overwhelmed by the promise of my warmth, the floral sweetness of my skin, and the earthy musk of my desire.
"You don't want... a drink?" I stammered, struggling to grasp the situation, to find a shred of reason amid the chaos of my emotions.
"Oh yes, Y/N. I very much desire a... drink." His smile was amused, his lips hovering just above mine. The taste of his breath, mingling with his tantalizing scent, sparked a deep, primal hunger within me. I was alive with all these unfulfilled needs, caught between an overwhelming desire and a paralyzing fear.
I inhaled shakily, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. "What... would you like?" The question was a desperate plea for clarity, a tenuous grasp at the last vestiges of control in a world that had become a tumultuous blur of lust and dread.
A low laugh rumbled in Hoseok’s throat as he brushed his lips over mine, savoring the teasing trace of my flavor. "I want you, Y/N. I want to drink you." His honesty was laced with a raw, consuming need, a plea that mirrored the chaotic mix of longing and fear surging through me. It was clear he had no intention of letting me escape—not now. His tongue traced the corners of my mouth, and his body pressed against mine, making his heat seep through every layer of fabric that separated us.
I trembled, caught in a storm of conflicting emotions. The scents of my home—the cheap cotton sheets, synthetic pillows, and lingering traces of my perfume—led him with a haunting familiarity. He lifted me effortlessly, carrying me with a purposeful stride, and placed me gently at the foot of my bed. The moonlight offered only a weak shield against the encroaching darkness that seemed to swallow us whole.
My heart raced, feeling like a delicate butterfly trapped in a predatory web. As he dropped his coat to the floor and drew me into a deep kiss, my earlier uncertainty dissolved into a raw, electric need. Each touch of his fingers against my body made me shiver, a mix of anticipation and dread coiling tightly within me.
The bed was unmade, its disarray a silent testament to my disordered state. His scent lingered in the tangled sheets and blankets as he lowered me onto them. My sweat-dampened palms gripped his hair, my fingers exploring the nape of his neck and shoulders. The buttons on his shirt came undone beneath my trembling hands, my desire growing bolder despite the icy grip of fear that clenched at my chest. His groan as his teeth grazed my throat made me arch my hips, pressing closer, driven by a need I couldn't fully understand.
My clothes fell away under his hands, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. His eyes devoured every curve of my body, his gaze as palpable as his touch. His mouth descended on mine, hungry and insatiable, and I was enveloped by him, lost in a swirling tempest of our shared desire. His touch became a language, one that read my body with an intimate knowledge I was helpless to resist.
As he explored my secret places, my soft sighs turned into desperate pleas. His searing touch brought goosebumps to my skin, but I pressed closer, overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving me. I was caught between wanting more and the creeping dread of losing myself entirely.
"Y/N," he groaned, his voice a dark promise. "I want to consume you." His words were a growl, a warning wrapped in seductive desire.
"Yes, I want you to. Do it. Take me," I panted, clutching at his shirt sleeve. My body spoke louder than words, arching upwards in desperate need. I knew I didn't fully understand what I was asking for, but the awareness was drowned out by the intensity of my longing.
His hands covered my breasts, his fingers finding my nipples. I gasped, pushing closer as his mouth found each tip, his low growl sending shivers through me. My heart raced beneath his lips, the rush of blood whispering of more delights to come. I arched again, my body twisting off the bed, craving more.
His mouth sucked at my nipple, his tongue flicking to heighten my pleasure. His thigh pressed between mine, the fabric of his jeans rasping over my nakedness, igniting a desperate heat. I moaned and bucked against him, my fingers digging into his arms as I convulsed beneath him, reaching the peak of my desire. The exhilaration of the moment was punctuated by the fear that clawed at the edges of my consciousness, a persistent reminder that I was teetering on the brink of something both irresistible and terrifying.
The climax left me gasping, trembling, caught in a whirlwind of confusion and overwhelming need. Each wave of pleasure only heightened my fear, and my body’s reaction seemed to betray my mind's desperate protests. His touch, relentless and insistent, found a rhythm that both seduced and terrified me. I cried out, unable to stop the sounds that escaped my lips, but a part of me wanted to resist.
I tried to pull away, my hand grasping his wrist with a frantic intensity. "What... what are you doing to me…?" My voice was a ragged whisper, trembling with a blend of confusion and fear.
He looked at me with a dark, hungry smile, his eyes alight with a dangerous fire. "Y/N, don’t lie to yourself," he said softly, his fingers curling in ways that made my body shudder. "You’re not overwhelmed. Your body is telling me you want this. You’re close to coming again. I can feel it."
My protests dissolved into incoherent moans as his touch stimulated a spot deep within me. The pleasure was a cruel paradox, blurring the line between ecstasy and dread. I could barely think, my mind clouded by the intensity of his actions.
"No, Hoseok, it’s too much," I whimpered, struggling to catch my breath. "I can’t..."
His mouth moved to mine, his lips teasing, his breath warm against my skin. "You’re a beautiful little liar," he murmured. "It’s not too much. You crave this. You know you do. Beg for it."
The force of his command broke through my haze of desire. "Please, Hoseok...," I gasped, my will crumbling under his dominance. My words felt like a betrayal, but I couldn’t stop myself from begging. "Please, just... take me."
His satisfaction was palpable, a dangerous hunger in his eyes. His touch grew more urgent, driving me to the brink of madness. I was lost in a maelstrom of sensation, my mind screaming to pull away, but my body’s response only seemed to draw him closer.
The moment of his thrust was jarring, a mix of pain and pleasure that overwhelmed me. My body reacted instinctively, my hips rising to meet him even as my mind struggled to grasp the reality of what was happening. The intense pleasure was intermingled with a profound fear, a dread of losing myself completely.
His movements were urgent, almost desperate, as though he were chasing an elusive climax. I was limp in his arms, my breathing ragged, torn between an unbearable desire and an escalating terror.
Despite my growing fear, I clung to him, my hands fumbling for some semblance of control. My kisses were desperate, seeking to anchor myself amidst the chaos. His touch was relentless, and every stroke seemed to heighten the conflict within me.
He pressed closer, his hands exploring with a possessive intensity. My body’s reactions were at odds with my thoughts, creating a tumultuous storm of sensation and fear. My mind raced, grappling with the realization of what was happening, but the pleasure was so consuming that it blurred the line between consent and coercion.
As the moment approached, I felt his breath on my neck, a chilling reminder of the danger that lurked beneath his seductive veneer. The final act was a blur, my fear mingling with an overwhelming rush of sensation.
I was a walking paradox—caught between heaven and hell, life and death, sin and redemption. His presence was a fiery furnace, consuming me with the heat of stolen life he had been deprived of for so long. My body clenched around him, a pulsating rhythm that seemed to drive him to the edge of his sanity. His pleasure was overwhelming, a torrent of sensations that painted the world in a chaotic blaze of colors.
“Hoseok, please…” I whispered, my voice a fragile breath against the overpowering cacophony of sensations. I wasn’t sure if my plea was for him to stop or to continue, a desperate cry from a place deep within me that I couldn’t fully comprehend. My fear was a gnawing presence, clawing at the edges of my desire, but the confusion of what I wanted and what I was willing to accept blurred together.
His eyes were dark with a twisted satisfaction as he sensed the last of my climax and my blood draining from me. The thought of taking me to the brink of death both exhilarated and haunted him. His grip tightened, and with a guttural snarl, he pulled away from my neck, his fangs retracting with a mixture of frustration and reluctant restraint. The rush of his thirst roared inside him, but he forced himself to temper his need.
I was an indulgence he wouldn’t be denied again, a forbidden pleasure he was determined to claim. He gently laid me back on the disheveled sheets, my heartbeat weak and fluttering. He licked the last drops of blood from my skin, his breath ragged and uneven. Each touch was deliberate, sealing the wounds with a final, lingering caress—a practical necessity for a demon who wanted to savor every part of me.
“Mine,” he growled, his voice a low, dark promise that vibrated through my core. “You are mine, Y/N. From now until death claims you, until I claim you.” His breath was warm and heavy against my face. My eyelids fluttered, barely able to focus, but his words penetrated my haze. “If any other man dares to touch you, I will tear him apart. Remember this, my beautiful little lamb. Remember who you belong to.”
“Hoseok,” I murmured, my voice a faint echo of surrender. His satisfaction was palpable, a twisted delight in my obedience and submission. He rose and slipped out of the room, leaving me tangled in sheets and blankets. From across the street, hidden in the shadows, he watched and listened, his gaze a persistent weight on my fragile state.
As dawn’s first light crept through the blinds, it painted the room in a sickly, eerie glow. I lay amidst the tangled sheets, each twist revealing new bruises and bite marks—a grotesque map of the night’s events etched into my skin. The aftermath was a haunting blend of pleasure and torment, an unsettling reminder of what had transpired.
Hoseok’s presence lingered in the room like a shadow that refused to lift. The darkness he brought with him clung to the corners, an inescapable reminder of the nightmare I had just lived through. My mind, once a storm of fear and confusion, now spun in a twisted acceptance—a deranged serenity that felt as liberating as it was unsettling.
The door creaked open like the groan of an old house settling into its own despair. Hoseok reappeared, his eyes still gleaming with that predatory glow, but now softened by an unsettling tenderness. He moved towards me with a deliberate grace, each step imbued with a dark reverence that made my heart pound with a blend of fear and reluctant desire.
“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice a low, seductive murmur that slithered across the room. “Do you understand now? You are mine, every inch of you.”
I looked up at him, my smile a grotesque reflection of the twisted contentment that had taken root in me. It was not a smile of joy or freedom but a shadowy acknowledgment of a reality I could no longer escape. My old life had withered into obscurity, replaced by the suffocating reality Hoseok had imposed upon me.
“Yes,” I breathed, the word barely escaping my lips. “I belong to you.”
The truth of my submission felt like a heavy, warm blanket, pressing down on me with an oppressive weight. Despite the enormity of what I had given up—my freedom, my chance to reclaim any semblance of my old life—there was an undeniable satisfaction in surrendering wholly to him. The pain and loss had twisted into a perverse form of fulfillment, filling the void in my chest with a dark semblance of love.
Hoseok’s smile widened, a dark curve that spoke of unyielding possession. He reached out, his hand caressing my cheek with a gentleness that clashed violently with the ferocity of his claim. The room seemed to close in around us, the air thick with a palpable tension, as if the very walls bore witness to my surrender.
“You will never leave me,” he murmured, his eyes locked onto mine with an unbreakable determination. “You are mine, forever.”
I nodded, the movement small and almost imperceptible, but it was enough. It was a surrender, a relinquishment of my will to the dark force that was Hoseok. He pulled me into his arms, and I felt my resolve melt away, my body becoming a canvas for his power, intermingling with the strange warmth of our shared connection.
As his darkness enveloped me, I felt a disturbing sense of belonging. In the shadows of the night, under his control, my fears and desires tangled together, creating a new reality that was both terrifying and intoxicating. In that moment, I understood there was no turning back. I was his, bound in body and soul by the twisted threads of fate and desire.
Hoseok’s eyes softened as he pulled me close, his cold skin a stark contrast to the feverish heat of my own body. His embrace was a strange sanctuary, a place where I felt both ensnared and cherished. My mind, once a battleground of conflicting emotions, had slipped into a state of blissful madness. In Hoseok’s dark embrace, I discovered a twisted joy that defied all rational thought.
“I’ve given you everything,” he murmured, his breath cold against my ear. “We are bound now, Y/N. Forever.”
His words were a chilling promise that resonated through the marrow of my bones, a haunting echo that left me trembling uncontrollably. I clung to him, my grip a mix of desperate need and profound terror, as a disturbing form of happiness took root in the darkest corners of my mind. The loss of my old life, the sacrifice of everything I had once held dear, seemed like a fevered dream compared to the unsettling contentment I felt in his arms.
As the first light of dawn filtered into the room, casting long, distorted shadows that twisted and writhed, I looked at Hoseok with a gaze that was both adoring and disturbingly fractured. The vibrant world I had once known had dissolved into a distant memory, replaced by a nightmarish existence defined by the twisted love and passion we shared. My heart swelled with a love so profound it overshadowed any lingering regret, even as my mind spiraled further into chaos.
Hoseok’s final words were a chilling promise wrapped in disturbing tenderness. “Remember, Y/N,” he whispered softly, his voice a ghostly caress in the dim light. “You are mine, in every sense—in your heart, in your mind, and in your soul.”
As the door creaked shut behind him, the morning light seeping in like a reluctant witness, I was left enveloped in the oppressive embrace of the darkness we had forged together. My smile, twisted and unnatural, reflected the bizarre, unsettling happiness I had found in the abyss. I was forever bound to the night, my soul tangled in the shadows of Hoseok’s dark desires.
The room seemed to breathe with the remnants of his presence, each corner cloaked in an oppressive stillness that mirrored the void he had filled within me. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the cacophony of fragmented thoughts that raged in my mind. Now, there was only the echo of his words, the haunting promise of a future forever intertwined with his darkness.
I lay there, wrapped in the aftermath of our twisted union, my body marked by the evidence of his possession. Each bruise, each bite mark was a grotesque map of the new life I had been forced into. The pain was now a distant echo, overshadowed by the profound and disturbing contentment that gnawed at my chest—a contentment born of both surrender and madness.
As the minutes ticked by and the morning light grew stronger, I found myself replaying his final words in my mind, my thoughts fracturing with each repetition. “You are mine, in every sense—in your heart, in your mind, and in your soul.” The truth of those words reverberated through me like a haunting mantra, a binding contract signed with my very essence, even as my grip on reality slipped further away.
There was no turning back, no reclaiming the life I had once known. I was irrevocably his, a willing participant in the dark dance we had begun. The thought brought a grotesque smile to my lips, a smile that spoke of a happiness found in the shadows, a contentment born of surrender and madness.
At least, I wanted to believe it was madness alone that made me forget how afraid I was.
October 31, 2024
The house had become an enigmatic beast, its former guise of normalcy utterly transformed. From the street, it looked like any other home—silent and shadowy against the midnight sky. But within its walls, it was something else entirely. The shutters were clamped shut, keeping out any unwelcome glimmers of daylight. The curtains, heavy with dust, obscured the outside world, making everything inside a surreal, dreamlike blur.
Within this labyrinth of darkness, the house seemed like a twisted echo of a familiar nightmare. The air was thick with the mingling scents of old incense and stale dreams, creating a heavy, almost intoxicating atmosphere. Flickering candlelight cast eerie, jittery shadows that danced and twisted, as if mocking my attempts at normalcy. Silence pressed down on me, almost alive in its oppressive weight.
Days blurred into one another, each indistinguishable from the next in a fog of disorientation. Hoseok’s routines had become my own, though I couldn’t quite remember how or when they had taken over. My existence revolved around small tasks—cooking, cleaning, and performing acts of devotion—that had evolved into a kind of ritualistic pattern. It was as though each action was a silent offering to the enigmatic darkness that had enveloped our lives.
When I glanced in the mirror, the person staring back was a ghostly apparition of my former self. My face, serene to the point of being unsettling, bore a look of eerie contentment. I was a wraith, drifting through my days with a confusing mix of dread and satisfaction.
As night fell, the house came alive with an almost palpable energy. Hoseok’s presence was overwhelming, filling the space with his dark, commanding aura. His arrival was always marked by the ritualistic locking of doors, a subtle reminder of his control. The sensations of pleasure and pain that accompanied his touch had become a surreal symphony, a haunting reminder of the path I had chosen.
One particularly cold night, as the moonlight filtered through the grime-covered windows, Hoseok and I stood together, looking out into the void. The world outside was a distant blur, an irrelevant expanse that felt disconnected from my reality. The sky stretched above us, a vast, unyielding black, reflecting the emptiness of my existence. We were bound together by something primal and deep, though its true nature remained elusive.
Time inside these walls seemed to warp and distort. The house, once a symbol of normalcy, had turned into a crypt of our peculiar existence. The outside world had faded into obscurity, replaced by the certainty of Hoseok’s presence. I had found a strange form of happiness in this eternal night, where the terror of the outside world had been replaced by the dark, enveloping comfort of Hoseok’s embrace.
As I settled into my favorite worn leather chair, the house seemed to pulse with anticipation for Hoseok’s return. My knitting supplies were spread around me, with a scarf for Hoseok in progress. I hummed softly, my heart beating with a sense of calm and eager expectancy, as if I were awaiting a beloved dream to resume.
I replayed our last conversation in my mind, Hoseok’s words lingering like a haunting melody. “An old friend is coming for a visit,” he’d said, a hint of mischief in his voice. “She’s good at dealing with werewolves.”
I couldn’t suppress a bubbling laugh, the sound rising unbidden. “Isn’t she the one Namjoon’s obsessed with?”
His kiss on my temple had been darkly tender, sending shivers of pleasure through me. “Clever girl. It will be fun.”
I teased him playfully. “Don’t cause too much trouble.”
His laughter resonated through me, sending a thrill down my spine. “When have I ever been nice, lamb?”
“Nice to me,” I’d replied, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Very, very nice.”
Settling back into the leather chair, the hearth’s flickering light casting long, shifting shadows, I resumed my knitting with a serene focus. Each stitch felt like a small act of devotion, a testament to my growing obsession. I hummed softly, my heart a silent witness to the peace I had found in this twisted, eternal night. The lines between fear and love, sanity and madness, had merged into a strange, intoxicating tapestry that I no longer fully understood.
Hoseok said I was perfect. His praise was a balm to my disoriented soul.
I smiled, pushing away any lingering doubts about my sanity. I was fine. I was perfect.
Pager Codes:
110 307 - Go To Bar
209 - On My Way
08 - OK
420 - You’re in trouble
3011 - Be Careful
221 - Where are you?
419 - I don’t understand
100 - Come Back
© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.
#bts fanfiction#bts#bts fanfic#bts x reader#jung hoseok#bts fic#bts fanfction#bts smut#bts demon au#bts x y/n#bts x you#bts x fem!reader#taehyung x reader#hoseok x reader#hoseok x y/n#hoseok x you#kim taehyung#taehyung fanfic#hoseok smut#hoseok fanfic#hoseok scenarios#hoseok demon#taehyung vampire#bts vampire au#bts supernatural au#bts scenarios#hoseok fanfiction#bts yandere#yandere hoseok#doctor reader
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i was if you could make some headcannons for the rottmnt boys with a little sibling who is around like 5 or 6, and they like, look up the brothers a lot! i mean it gets to the point where they’ll copy everything they do and say.
and if it’s okay, you can make them separate.
[ Tater Tot ]
ROTTMNT x GN!Reader as their younger sibling
A/N: slides into the room slowly... heyy... guess whos back from the endless abyss that was forgetting to update its tumblr. evan is!! thank you for being SO PATIENT lovelies!! :] i find this req so cute.. toddler reader with chubby cheeks and stubby legs copying them like a robot HEHE... anyways, thank you nonnie for requesting <3!
Relationships: Strictly platonic, familial
TW: Fluff, cheek kisses, small mentions of injuries, teasing, olayful mocking
Raph
He only realized when you started to kiss his 'boo-boos' and stepping in front of danger to protect him (the danger being mean looking cats).
Heart melted into putty, maybe even slime.
Encourages you to continue by acting scared or extra hurt.
If you start to talk in third person or say 'Like a BOSS!' he loses it.
Now, Raph isn't the type to boast but, he totally would
Your name? What do you mean? It's always been Raph Jr!
Leo
He finds it hilarious.
When you mess up your words, he mocks you under his breath.
Since you're not that good at articulating punchlines yet, you often find yourself stuck and he cannot keep himself from cracking up.
It only encourages you, you don't understand he wasn't laughing at your joke.
Jokes aside, he finds it so sweet.
Often you'll do something smug and question where you got it from. Him. You got it from him.
Donnie
Fascinated.
Studies you (not genuinely) like a little lab rat.
Not good at expressing emotions so he just stares with wide eyes, if only his face could link to his brain.
He corrects you casually when you try to be smart, it often ends up with him just talking instead of you.
A little offended when he hears you say 'gasp' or 'scoff'.
That's his thing! That is until he remembers toddlers pick up stuff that they enjoy. Sweet.
Mikey
Oh. Mi. Gosh.
Quite literally. He heard you scream it from across the hall.
You try to cook with him, never again.
Why? You once placed your poor little hand on the pan as you tried to stop yourself from falling off a stool.
Lets be honest, you're 5. You suck at drawing. Does that stop Mikey from hanging up your drawings? No.
At this point call him Michael because you're the next Michelangelo.
#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of tmnt#rise of the tmnt#rise tmnt#2018 tmnt#rottmnt#tmnt 2018#rise donnie x reader#rise donatello#donnie x reader#rottmnt x reader#rise leo x reader#rise leo#leo x reader#rise mikey x reader#mikey x reader#rise mikey#rise raph x reader#raph x reader#rise raph#donatello#raphael#michelangelo#leonardo#rise leonardo#rise michelangelo#rise raphael
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hiiii katie!! i’ve been in a massive longlegs phase (mostly bc of lee let’s be honest) and your blog has been a GODSEND 🤍 i’ve been thinking of writing a lee fic for a while but i had a lil idea that i wanted to send your way 🤭
i cannot get over the idea of wife!lee with r on a beach trip—especially if her wife fucking loooves it. she’s not a huge fan of going to the beach (her autistic ass does not fuck with sand) but she’ll go every couple of years bc ofc she’s going to deal with it for her woman!!!!! she’d sit on the beach watching r letting herself get absolutely DEMOLISHED by waves and she thinks it’s cutie af. she will (VERY reluctantly) get in the water once her twice but if something touches her leg? she’s screaming like he arm is getting chopped off she would HATE THATTT.
lol that’s all!! i just love ur blog and i would love to see u expand on this because ur like The Lee Harker Blog Ever for me :) much love 🤍🤍
— gracie
hello gracie !! oh my god PLEASE write a lee fic i will reblog it until the day that i die. also so honoured you wanted to send this my way hello?? i could cry 🫶 AND THEN YOU ALSO SAID IM THE LEE HARKER BLOG FOR YOU?? sobbing throwing up rolling around on the floor literally deceased
—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—✦—
lee fucking HATESSSS the beach (girl me too) her autistic ass can’t handle it. the sand sticking to her? AHHHHH. the water that’s freezing and lowkey stinks? FUCKKKKK. yeah no this really isn’t for her.
except for the fact it now is because her wife loves it arguably more than she loves her!!
god i can just picture it now, you’re walking onto the beach so fucking happy to finally be back after not going for ages (lee cried and locked herself inside the house the last time you tried to go), and then there’s lee… 🧍♀️ girly is just stood on the pathway that leads up to the sand, your bags and folded up towels in hand as she refuses to take just one little step forward onto the sand.
you have to push her to the spot you’d like your towels placed
lee sits on her towel and doesn’t move, she won’t even uncross her legs. she’s just sat awkwardly leaning over the towel so she can make you a sandcastle <3 she’s using various children’s tools she’d ordered from amazon to build, picking up the shells around her to turn them into decoration.
she’s so proud of herself when you come back from the water for a drink 😭 “honey! look what i made you” and she’s all shyyyy
also lee is 100% the kind of person to write your initials in a heart in the sand, and not small too she wants it to be seen by everyone, just so they all get the message (aka “stop staring at my wife’s ass you pervs”).
ice creams on the beach!!! lee is so mad at the wasps swarming her LMAOOO you’re actually petrified so you’ve moved, poor lee is trying to be brave and impress you but if they get too close she drops her act to scream like a child.
after hours of trying to convince her to get into the water, she finally agrees! you lead her to the water (despite her purposefully moving slower than a sloth) and let go of her hand to make your way in, assuming she’d follow.
🧍♀️”i don’t want to :/”
SHES SO CUTE I CANT IM LITERALLY ABT TO CRY JUST THINKING ABT HER
“come on baby you can do it! it’s just water!” you attempt to encourage her, and surprisingly it works. lee veryyy slowly starts inching her way towards the water, a wave crashing into her ankle just as she does so. she makes various weird noises, you know when you eat something that feels like it’s just come straight out of a volcano? it sounds something like that.
but hey she’s doing it! she’s walking towards you with a big smile on her face, your expression mirroring her own. that is until lee feels something slimy wrapping around her leg, imagine the scream she lets out when she glances down to discover there’s a green alien trying to worm its way inside of her (there’s seaweed on her leg).
my girl runs for the hills. screaming like she’s being tortured before dropping onto the sand and swatting her attacker away (which is again, seaweed).
you make your way over to her in an instant, removing the seaweed from her leg as you stifle a laugh. the woman, your wife, now caked head to toe in sand… even the poor girls eyelashes have sand in them.
“can we go home please?” poor baby :(
once you’ve returned to the comfort of your own home, lee gets the most cuddles she’s ever gotten from you in her life. despite her silliness (not silliness, she was very viciously attacked by aliens) you’re still so incredibly proud of her for facing her fears and going on a fun little adventure with you.
#sorry for leaving you all so abruptly!#life gets in the way sometimes but by saturday i’ll be back to posting at least once a day!!#i love u all sm i don’t think u understand#lee harkee x reader#lee harker#maika monroe#maika monroe x reader#katies gay ass thoughts
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things from the new asides ep that i dont see more of us talking about and im Insane over:
- Logan being the one to initiate this year's secret santa. why. /pos
- the implication that Remus and Janus have never been invited to one of these before
- "he's just chilling" "im chilling" "should we turn the heat up?!"
- "OH 𝓭𝓪𝓭𝓭𝔂" *chorus of acute disgust*
- Janus being brutally honest about the airfryer
- okay but mr fuzzy is incredibly cute. tell me im wrong.
- Logan: "is that all i am to you? the reading guy?" oh boy surely this isn't a statement for how he views himself now is it
- okay i know people DO talk about this but Remus's "does it make you want to scream" lives rent free in my head
- "this whole activity is to serve a higher purpose anyway" chat what does he mean i actually cannot tell what does this mean
- logan giving roman 20 dollars is so painfully logan i fully had to pause the video to stare at the wall for a minute over it. literally everyone behind tss are so fucking smart.
- LMAO VIRGIL GETTING ANGRY AT JANUS PISSING AT ROMAN prinxiety nation i know you're here in this room today
- also unrelated but all of patton's tiny gift wrappings are so pretty. where do you shop thomas
- he really replaced his entire gift. to give janus what he deserved. fucking hell roman stop being so valiant for one fucking minute /pos
- YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO ADD THE BEGRUDGINGLY BOY DAMN
- this is probably just me but come on can we stop giving patton just simple cards. like ik he likes them and he probably doesn't mind but come on its too easy.
- LOGAN MY BABY BOY. MY BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL CHILD MY ABSOLUTE FIRST BORN he's so happy im honna gry
- "good luck detective, you're gonna need it 😈" "oh virgil 😦" they're so dramatic why are they like this
- Janus being responsible for Thomas' poker face and he's not doing a great job at it
- LOGAN BEING THE ONE TO SAY "dont overthink it" LIKE THE. LIKE THE IMPLICATIONS. IM SO NORMALM
- NICO TIME god everyone's so pretty
- hmm i. i wonder what the message is. i wonder what the message is that we're supposed to getting from here. hnm.
#sanders sides#logan sanders#roman sanders#virgil sanders#janus sanders#remus sanders#patton sanders#tss spoilers#thomas sanders
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Your Sky: Episode 3
This week sped by and I only rewatched the previous episode once before we got a new one. Three episodes in and this show might just take the 2024 crown for me. I absolutely adore this show. The giddiness and excitement I feel not only watching it but waiting for and anticipating its release each week should be studied.
There are so many things I loved about this episode, each one just gets better. Thomas and Kong and the entire cast are doing a great job, I just love it SO much. This post might get a little lengthy (the details!), so please forgive me.
We pick up where we left off last time, on the rooftop where Punlee has assigned them to take more convincing couple-y pics. (Mind you, I don't need to be convinced, I am sold!) But Muenfah is always heart eyed staring at Teerak. He just looks at him with such love and adoration, I am wholeheartedly sure that there is more to this story and that the pretending is just a happy convenience somehow. Muenfah is so gentle and respectful of Teerak it squeezes my heart into a million tiny pieces. He never seeks to make him uncomfortable or overstep any boundaries without Teerak's consent, and if he does so unintentionally, he never fails to apologize. Teerak is also incredibly considerate of everyone around him, but especially Muenfah. He doesn't wish to burden him in any way or put him in any uncomfortable situations either. These two sweet, beautiful boys are perfect for each other already. The rooftop montage of them just letting go and enjoying each other's presence is so precious I could scream.
Secondly, I LOVE this friend group! Not only are their group facetimes adorable but the way they rally together to protect Teerak is the greatest thing ever. They know Teerak's heart is too big, pure and kind to be mean or tell someone off even if it causes him discomfort. But instead of getting angry with him for it, they encourage him and then step in for him when he can't. Everyone deserves a friend group like them.
The elevator scene was so brilliant I had to rewind it. Muenfah has perfect timing doesn't he? He picked up on the situation so quickly (the differing facial expressions from each friend cracked me up) and he stepped in, but not until he glanced at Teerak for quick confirmation each time. (I adore him!) The fierce friend group stepping in to deter him from interrupting them was hilarious. Also, Muenfah stopping to ask Teerak if he wanted to go take pictures with Oh, just in case he overstepped. Gosh this boy. It seems so basic but it literally gets missed a lot. He respects Teerak, full stop and he would do anything to make him comfortable and happy.
Teerak with a pink-colored heart shirt on as he texts and asks a smiling Muenfah about their planned deep talk, "...based on understanding and mutual respect for one another." Real and Hia pick up on Muenfah's giddiness and tease him about it and about his world turning pink. He cannot let his friends know that he is in love forreal with his fake boyfriend. (Muenfah, my love, you're doing a terrible job.)
The rooftop assignment date! Muenfah is so tender in the way he looks at Teerak. Drawing him, when he draws things he likes! Teerak in both of their colors! Their talk is so cute. Being so open, Muenfah gently dismantling all of the preconceived notions Teerak has about him. Muenfah knowing Teerak's favorite foods and cooking them for him! Being so smitten with him drawing on his omelet, and then allowing him to draw on his portion, too, even though it's clear he doesn't like ketchup. There is no way Fah is not gone for Rak already. Him lying about the dishes also being his favorites to cover his tracks, he could've said Lee told him, HA! The way they just enjoy being in each other's presence and they smile so much when they're together.
Rak and Lee taking snacks to Muenfah. Oh showing up. Not only is this man persistent, aggressive and creepy. He's downright delusional! "Teerak are you here for me? Will you come to see me play? Will you cheer for me?" Obviously not. Thank goodness for Lee being such a fierce, sassy, and protective bestie and brother. Muenfah again with the perfect timing! He came in with a smile because he was happy to see his fake boyfriend, only to have it wiped right off at seeing Oh. I love that he once again doesn't overstep his boundaries when it comes to Teerak, he looks to him for confirmation first, then he asks if they're done speaking before he attempts to lead him away. I love the way he gives advice and encourages Teerak to learn to stop people-pleasing, and in turn Teerak also encourages him about his flaws, too. In a space where Muenfah is often misunderstood with unfounded rumors spread about him, he doesn't scold him for being hot-headed, he takes Muenfah as he is. These two boys are learning to care for and understand each other more each day. "Gosh, I made the right choice." My dear, sweet Muenfah.. what do you mean by that? Teehee. "I'm not [good at showing love], I'm learning it from you." *squealing, screaming.*
Teerak making cheer signs for Muenfah. Babe coming in to give totally fake dating advice and having to stop herself from mentioning that couples kiss and *cough* is so funny. What would we do without her and Punlee? The nicknames... hello?! "Naughty Baby" (Muenfah.. do you have something you want to tell us?) and "P'Fah", so precious. Real and Hia comes as a surprise to none of us but we all love it just the same, I need more of these two. The blue Your Sky and yellow The Sun is so Muenfah and Teerak-coded. Muenfah already looking for Teerak in the crowd before the game started, omg. The signs are so cute and the friends are so supportive. Punlee's soul leaving his body having to cheer for Muenfah is so little brother-coded, I'm giggling. Real, if having a lover seems so nice... why don't you get you one, hmm? Fah really is hot-headed but who wouldn't be with a rival like Oh?
Teerak yelling from the stands to calm him down is so Troy and Gabriella coded but was nonetheless adorable (everyone staring at me would've made me collapse though, never to be seen again). Teerak is very important to Muenfah already. Real living to annoy Hia. I think it's going to take Hia being bold to move this along. (Fah and Rak definitely peeped their arm holding.) Teerak offering Muenfah a reward and not realizing that he, himself is the reward. Poor, clueless baby.
I do not trust Oh as far as I can throw him. He seems obsessed with Teerak, and bitter towards Muenfah, not only for the punch but because he has Teerak, even if he doesn't fully believe that they're together. He seems to be getting more angry, and anger leads to danger. I just hope our babies are prepared for whatever he has in store for them.
Next week is going to be so precious, we get a date and an outing with all the friends and siblings. I just know Oh is going to find a way to ruin our bliss. But I have faith in FahRak and their fierce little found family. Happy fake dating!
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*rocking back and forth* catboy max catboy max catboy max your art is beautiful btw I’ve been staring at the catboy max art for like hours
What are your head canons regarding catboy max and catnip?
Also I’m personally a lestappen girly so I literally cannot stop thinking about Charles having to mediate between Leo and Max every time they’re in range of each other it’s so silly I’m literally going crazy rn catboy max has changed my life thank you kind stranger for sharing him with us 🙏
YESSSS HELLO JOIN ME IN THE PIT OF CATBOY MAX HELL
I think regarding catnip there’s development of like, maybe different strains kinda like weed?? And some applications are stronger than others.
like some he’ll get a whiff and it’s like pure electricity in his veins and he needs to run around like, RIGHT NOW and climb stuff and jump on people and it’s a liiiiittle destructive but people know that they can just play tag with him or throw toys around for a bit and he’ll work it out of his system in the next 10-15 minutes. very fun to see him zooming around during a track walk, bouncing between people and dashing around the track limits. one time he nearly torpedoed into valterri and carlos on their bikes and tripped and fell, somehow turning it into a full somersault before leaping up and chasing after them full speed.
or sometimes it makes him a little dopey and he gets that sleepy eyed look and everything takes like an extra two seconds for him to process and react, just completely chilled out and slowly blinking at people when they talk to him. this max is the best max if you wanna pet his hair or touch his ears or tug a little on his tail because he’ll grumble a little but won’t actually move out of they way. one memorable time an entire bottle of catnip spray got knocked over and spilled everywhere in the cooldown room after one of the races and max spent the entire time on the floor, lazily kneading at a jacket and rolling around before he had to be carried out for the podium celebration
certain catnip treats make him drool like crazy, he doesn’t like them as much. there’s a specific strain that makes him extra cuddly and affectionate too so he avoids it like the plague.
imo catnip is probably not a controlled substance but the redbull team treats it like one and after one too many incidents it’s completely banned in the garage and race weekends
i really like lestappen i think its a cute “down bad” kind of ship especially lately LOL i personally lean more maxiel but yes i totally agree i feel like charles wants so badly to befriend max and feel his ears but leo!! oh my god this dog is ruining all his chances!!! but it is cute to see max’s fur all puffy as he tries to stare down and intimidate a dog that only weighs like 20 pounds
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MHA X SHADOWS HOUSE
Living Doll!Oboro and Shadow!Kurogiri because i said so
(Why is oboros hair so light 😔(also ignore the lack of shoes ok)
This is kinda weird since i feel like these 2 fandoms have literally never met but i did it anyway!!
I didnt really change much in terms of design for kurogiris shadows look, just tried to make it look more fancy and European-ish, i wanted to add a tailcoat but i'd already finished the whole thing so i gave it up.
Kurogiri in this au doesnt have his whole misty body thing, but his soot would make him look similar to canon. His soot is very fine and speards outwards in all directions, getting finer amd lighter at the edges (like mist haha). Other than making him look bigger and being hard to breath next to him, it makes cleaning a hassle for Oboro, especially since it never stops spreading. And while his soot is voluminous, it's quantity is only a bit higher than average when condensed.
I almost forget about soot powers woops, obviously portals and teleportation wouldnt be possible in this AU, so Kurogiri's soot power wouls be the equivalent to Canon!Oboro's quirk, in that he is able to produce soot "clouds" that are good for blocking vision, making hard to breath, and storing things in them depending on the size and density of the "cloud". It wouldnt be the first time he and Oboro used it for silly pranks and hiding things from the star bearers.
I also feel like as much as Oboro is outgoing, shadow!kurogiri would inherit his more subdued qualities. He would be kind, compassionate and definitely have mom friend tendencies. He also likes taking care of others (group leader of shadow!LOV maybe?), and sulks when oboro comes in everyday because he wants to help with chores. (Oboro does encourage this eventually because he is a lazy bumTM and wants less work)
While different, they are essentially reflections of each other (and thats the nice way of putting it), so they get along very well! I also think they would be friends even with the brainwashing undone. (Also i headcanon that animals HATE shadows with every fiber of their being and run away if they're in a 5m radius, and even though there is no way Grandfather(AFO?) allows them on his property, they still still get to pet (and stare at) a cute (badly colored) ginger cat :D )
And in this AU, Oboro's nose bandage would be more important than it (supposedly) is in canon, because it hides a scar along the bridge of his nose that he got on a rainy day. Its not an actual bandage tho because that is gross. It just looks like the one Kurogiri first gave him after he was treated. The scar isnt huge like Barbie's, and really the two arent important enough (or annoying enough to Edward) that Oboro would be sabotaged, but it definitely set him back from being nominated for the Unification.
Speaking of the Unification, if i were to make this AU resemble canon as much as possible, then Kurogiri and Oboro would have successfully Unified (iykyk). But thats up to you really.
As of writing this i'm really considering making the rest of the LOV as shadows (especially Toga if only to put her in the girliest dress i can find and also because her quirk would make a perfect soot power)
More details under the cut:
OMG I JUST SAW HIS EYES OOPSIE ANYWAYS
Oboro does feel guilty for ruining Kurogiri's "face", even if it was an accident. Kurogiri on the other hand doesnt resent him for it and was just relieved he wasn't disposed of. (Strangely enough, Kurogiri didn't dispel any soot that day)
The way i struggled with this part is unbelievable. It looks horrible TOT
The cat is perfect tho
You cannot convince me Oboro would clean up if it wasn't his "purpose". I cant imagine myself in that situation, i would simply pass before the Debut even happens.
Do shadows need to breath? I think they do. Does that mean Shadow!Kurogiri essentially suffocates himself the more he's upset? Wow talk abt hyperventilating
#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#shadows house#shadows house manga#shirakumo oboro#kurogiri#if the quality looks bad it is NOT tumblr's fault it is MINE#NOT a reblog?? wow#<this is going to be my posting tag now#the shinsou to shirakumo obsession pipeline is real#bnha#mha#hmm lot of oboro/barbie parallels here#it was not intended btw#barbie shadows house
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Guys Deserve Flowers Too
Saw this post and it got me thinking…
Imagine see a handful of flowers that remind you of Katsuki. Imagine what they are but I was thinking of, well, Imma just collage it cause I don’t know how familiar with flowers y’all are…
On second thought, the picture is giant so I’ll put it…. so where else, maybe…
Anyway, you see these flowers and the kinda look like explosions and the flower lady tells you they (Dahlias) are stubborn flowers and they’re tough to kill so it literally is Bakugo Katsuki/Pro Hero Dynamight and now you HAVE to get them. So you do and you get a few others you think will look good.
Carnations last a long time when they’re cut, not withering as fast as other flowers.
Lantanas are cute little bundles of petals and the orange and red ones are so purty…
Course, you want some green in the bright conglomeration of bursting colors so you go with some leather leaf fern cause they’re big and refreshing.
You leave the shop with two bags of flowers and you’re beaming about them. The excitement kinda plateaus when you get home and realize you don’t have a vase big enough. You’re shocked by that fact because Katsuki’s bough GIANT bouquets for you before. You look everywhere and cannot find a vase.
Then you see one of the decorative jar things—ya know what I mean, right? It was black clay and you never understood why people would get something like that and just eat it sit unused. It just collected dust on a shelf full of other things that collected dust so it’s existence was an annoyance to you but Mitsuki bought it as a housewarming gift so…
Anyway, you used that. It was about time it pulled its own weight anyway, even if your husband would think you’re an idiot for using a decorative like that as a vase. You would argue that vases were a type of decorative and they were meant to be used but that didn’t matter.
What matters is you and the amazing bouquet just finished. Yaaasss! It’s beautiful, no doubt, because it made with l o v e. A fact you will rub in your snooty husband’s gorgeous face if he dares to make fun of you because that’s who we are, right?! Right.
He comes come and you greet him from her spot on the couch. He kisses your head as he walks by, mumbling a greeting of his own before he hops in the shower. You continue reading or doing whatever it is you like to do.
At some point in life, he notices the giant bouquet on the kitchen island and he stops. He didn’t buy those. The man narrows his eyes in thought, mentally going through all the important dates before deciding it wasn’t an important day today. Unless something happened that he didn’t know about. The man decided to probe.
“You got flowers,” he grumbled stupidly.
“Uh-huh,” you hummed absentmindedly, not giving him anything.
“Look nice.”
“Thanks.”
You looked at his back, giggling silently to yourself before looking blankly at your book when he turned around. You could see the confused look on his face out of the corner of you eye and it took everything you had not to burst into laughter.
“You get ‘em from that shop by the bakery?”
“No. They’re from a new place that opened up—by where the farmers market is. It’s a cute little shop.”
He stares silently at you before looking back at the flowers then back at you. You could hear the frustration on his face. He would cave in eventually. Bakugo Katsuki hated admitting he didn’t know something important and if he forgot an important date then it was worse. He wouldn’t ask, but, well, he couldn’t think of a single special occasion that happened today. So, he had to ask.
“Any reason for ‘em?”
You hummed softly, kicking your foot up and down before turning a page. You weren’t really reading but, well…“For you.”
Did he really forget something? But you didn’t usually buy him flowers except on his birthday and, even then, it was always simple and never this large. “Why?” he asked.
“Cause I kinda like you, that’s why.”
He made a face and you laughed at it, getting up from the couch to cup his pouty cheeks. He gently grabbed your hips, tugging you a little close as you look up at him with a soft smile. “They reminded me of you, that’s all,” you say, smiling growing when his ears turn a soft pink.
He doesn’t understand that sort of thing—how flowers could remind you of him. You know he doesn’t, so you explain it. As you speak, your hands move and your arms end up resting on his shoulders as you fiddle with your fingers behind his head. You feel like a schoolgirl with a big fat crush when he wraps his arms around you and gently sways, his red eyes lighting up the more you talk. It embarrassing and you feel like you’re on fire, but you wouldn’t mind burning if it was for him. Not like he’d let you burn. It makes you nervous and shy but you explain it anyway because he’s worth being shy for.
You tell him how stubborn he is and how resilient. How determined and strong he is.
You tell him how his touch lingers on your mind endlessly, how you live for the way you can feel him—can see him in the world around you even when he’s not there.
He snorts softly when you tell him how beautiful he is—how pretty his eyes are—and you puff out your cheek in response, pouting at his lack of faith. You ask him if he doesn’t trust you or if he never looks in the mirror and he mumbles that he trusts you more than anyone else in the world. So you tell him again, that he’s the most gorgeous person you’ve ever met. That the small moments you share with him make you fell close to bursting because you love him so much and you know he loves you too.
You tell him you love how he fits against you—how you fit against him. How safe you feel in his large arms and how protected you feel just by seeing him. You tell him that, after a long day, all you need is one hug and you feel so refreshed and loved.
It mushy and soft and lovey-dovey but you tell him all that anyway. You’re too embarrassed to look at him and he must share the same sentiment cause he buries his face in the crook of your neck, planting a few small kisses by your shoulder. You shyly press your face into your other shoulder, biting your bottom lip as your cheeks burn.
“Do you like them?” you whisper softly, gently fiddling with his hair.
He doesn’t respond, not for awhile. He seeks refuge in your arms—in the safety of your love and you let him. You’re more than happy to. Eventually he mumbles against you. You can’t hear him. You don’t really need to. You know what he said—what he meant. It makes you smile, makes you press his head further into you as you wrap an arm around his shoulder and hug him close. It’s the same feeling driving Katsuki to press his palm against your back and press you even further into himself. His other hand fiddles with your belt loop while he rests his chin on your shoulder.
“You’re an idiot,” he finally says and you snort.
“Whatever, dummy.”
“I should be buying you flowers, dumbass” he mumbles.
You know how grateful he is and you know that he treasures everything you said. You know he only said what he did because he thinks he has to work to deserve you and you know that, even if you told him no. It was you who was undeserving, he would never believe you.
He appreciates your words, you know he does, but he’s an actions kind of man and everything will always mean more to him if he sees your love. You know he sees it which is why he’s so shy all of a sudden. You’re feeling a bit coy yourself and bite your bottom lip, puffing out your cheeks as you do and you can feel the tips of your ears tingling.
“Yeah, well, guys deserve flowers too,” you breathe, “idiot.”
He snorts softly, kicking your shin lightly. “Idiot,” he parrots and you burry your smile in his hair.
It wasn’t until later in the week when Bakugo noticed the black paint on the substitute vase was running off due to the water and, well, you both had a great time trying to find that exact clay decorative in the store. It was a bonding experience, you told him. He called you an idiot but that was no surprise.
@shotorus
#heh oopsies#Mitsuki would beat Katsuki’s ass for ruining her gift#yes she knows it was you#but she would never blame anything on her perfect and precious daughter-in-law#you’re safe bb#back to Bakugo Katsuki and how much we love him#am i right or what#bnha#mha#bakugo katsuki#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou imagine#bakugo drabble#bakugou drabble#mha x reader#bakugo x reader#x reader fluff#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#lol#cascade05#bakugo katsuki fluff#bnha fluff#bakugo fluff#bakugo imagine
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hi bry opinions on this scene i’ve been thinking about ryocean too much lately
hi ria 😅😅😊😊😊 ok had to go rewatch the scene because A. they have so many intimate little moments that i forget which is which B. theyre so.
OK THOUGHTS.
obviously these two go beyond whatever possible heteronormativity lines could be drawn between them but this line is so. OUGH.
the little smile danny gives him after he says it and i was gonna say "its not even funny how [yada yada]" but i do want to make the point that that joke was NOT funny they make unfunny jokes to each other so much but they always are like 😊 twirling their hair stawp no you hang up first!!!!!
them saying stuff like this is very obviously their like. banter-flirtation-love language if you will. they were joking about going to prison and they still cant resist simultaneously dancing with each others egos and just like . You know. just being so like domestic i love them its so cute....... they do stuff like that to bring each other down (even if they were being serious about turning themselves in (they werent (they cant take anythingseriously))) and its like so. vulnerable. i lvoe them i cannot
on their little grandpa lovers scenic walk in amsterdam too bro. theyre on the bridge like just kiss dont worry the camera wont judge!!!!!!
during this whole part when they stop on the bridge rusty says that while looking at him with a little smirk and then turns to stare off into the distance and yet danny doesnt take his eyes off him. he just stares at him so affectionately and they are literally the cutest. i need them to die NOW
#so many thoughts so little time (fucking dies)#ocean's twelve#oceans twelve#ocean's 12#oceans 12#oceans trilogy#ocean's trilogy#jett talks (me)#jett inbox (me)#ryocean#danny ocean#rusty ryan
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hands u an au lovingly called the Rinkitty au (feat sana and noya and co )
aka rinky adopt a cat and another one just shows up and they slowly build a family
Basically it starts when rinne and niki go on a date 2 a cat cafe. All the cats love niki, none love rinne.
EXCEPT for 1 small grey tabby kitten. That kitten is all cuddled up to Rinne. Rinne is so in love.
hes just sitting watching all the cats cuddle up with niki and happy cuz god thats so cute but also sad because none of them like him…but then he feels something rub against him and sees the small grey tabby kitten rubbing its head against him and hes overwhelmed with love
In fact he almost gets away with taking the kitten home by hiding it in his pocket but Niki finds out and stops him before they leave.
Niki: Rinne-kun. What's that in your pocket.
Rinne: What pocket?
kitten in pocket: (tiny mewl)
Niki: the one that is moving and just meowed. Rinne-kun. Put the cat down.
Rinne sadly obeys and has to part ways from the little kitty he has become enamored with.
Several months pass and Niki's all but forgotten that encounter until one day he comes home to the apartment to find Rinne holding a small grey tabby cat with a cute blue ribbon. It's some kind of anniversary maybe their one year anni or anniversary of them meeting (as Rinne DEFINITELY keeps track and niki just. lets him celebrate it).
Basically Rinne went back to that cat cafe (which also does adoptions) and it turns out that he had asked the cat cafe to hold the little kitty for him until it was the right age to be adopted, which luckily coincided with whatever anni hes celebrating. he def laughs at that and calls it fate.
so now they have a cat and niki is like. i did not ask for this and is pouty but he quickly warms up to the little guy because. hes basically like dads when they say they hate a pet but are actually the one that ends up loving the pet the most. he feeds the little kitty so so well but also makes sure it stays fit and healthy. (just like how he takes care of rinne-kun)
Rinne lovingly calls the kitty Nikitty which Niki huffs about and they eventually agree on the name Niku (Short for nikujaga) (doesnt stop rinne from calling it nikitty though).
They raise Niku and its mostly Rinne taking Niku to the vet and doing most of the other care besides food and Niku grows into a healthy and happy housecat.
And then one day a year later or so rinne and niki come home to find Niku sitting next to a random ass very fluffy ginger cat that came out of nowhere and is sitting in their living room. The window is open. Niku mustve slid it open.
Niki:
Niku: Miaow (rubs head against the ginger cat)
Niki:
New cat: Mrrp
Rinne: guess we have two cats now
Niki's at first like no- but then all 3 somehow gang up on him with the biggest eyes and he caves so now they have a second cat.
Rinne lovingly once again calls it Rinnya after himself and Niki just stares deadpan at him like we are not naming a cat after you and they (niki) decides on marinara (short, rinrin, which rinne laughs at and says it still has his name and niki ignores him)
both cats love Niki so much Niki makes them such good food and theyre so cute and cuddly with him. rinne takes so many pictures. his phone runs out of storage so fast
niku loves everyone equally (niki most) and also treats everyone equally when upset (except niki niki would never do wrong)
Niku is also as cuddly with Rinne. unfortunately, Rinne and Rinrin have an ongoing fight over. well. both Niku and Niki.
they absolutely cannot get along. ironic cuz rinne vouched for Rinrin to live with them.
like nikis sitting with rinrin in his lap and rinne walks over pulls rinrin up and takes the cat's spot.
it also goes the other way rinne is seated asleep with Niku and rinrin comes and picks niku up by the scruff and walks over rinne's face and away.
Niki finds it so cute but so stupid that his man is literally beefing with a cat.
time passes and etc and then one day they find out too late that wait Niku is actually a girl and oh shes expecting kittens. okay.
rinrin sitting there with a smug face. Niki is shocked. Rinne is just staring at rinrin
Niki: Niku was a girl this whole time?!
Rinne: oh yeah. whoops. I forgot about that
Niki: YOU KNEW AND FORGOT TO TELL ME?????
basically rinne knew but didnt think it was important to tell because well. amagi “anyone can be a wife gender doesnt matter” rinne.
and then the kitties r born and they are the smallest little thtings barely a sauce tall and rinne cries seeing them because oh they are so helpless and vulnerable and small and oh and rinrin is glaring at him, leans down to lick one of his kittens and pushes it gently over to rinne like "hey i Dont like you but the love of my life likes you and so does that other guy that i like so i guess you can touch my children but you are on thin ice and if you dare hurt them i am tearing you to shreds" and rinne just picks it up and starts crying and nikis taking a video of the whole thing because god this is so cute and he saves a shot of it for rinne's contact photo
ok they have like 5 kittens and niki gets to name 4 of them except one that one rinne names
eventually they have to give them away because. well. they already have two grown cats and wont be able to handle 5 more.
rinne is so sad about this. he wants to keep them all. he loves them all. he cuddles with them all and sleeps with them all in his arms and its the cutest thing ever
(rinne finishing all his paperwork actually on time and showing up to meetings early and everyones like what changed and it just turns out rinnes trying to get things done as fast as he can so he can go home and cuddle with the kittens )
niki is shaking his head in fond exasperation rinnekun i love them too but we literally cant handle 7 cats in this household. we need to give them away. dont worry theyll go to loving homes
rinne: they fucking better
niki: rinne-kun you have to let them go
rinne: ok fine but i wont stand for our children having to live in any lackluster home
niki: but theyre not even our children
the two requirements for adoption: be liked by Niku, be approved by rinne (rinne makes them sign an oath to protect the kitten with their life. everyone signs it despite how dumb this is )
ramen m
-mischievous little guy. gets to the most trouble. partners in crime with his brother. always leaves a mess everywhere
(the twins take him, little bb can instantly tell who is who and they fall in love. get into shenanigans with their little guy)
soba f
-the most energetic, literally wont shut up she meows so much and very loudly and runs around - her poor mother struggles to catch her her dad at least can jump on her and trap her but everyone else has to FIGHT to catch her
(ryuseitai takes her, chiakana mostly because god her energy can ONLY be matched by the burning flame that is morisawa chiaki he literally goes jogging with her . she goes pukapuka with kanata. LOVES WATER)
udon f
-the most serious of the litter. is pretty calm and easy to befriend. doesnt play around much as her siblings but if she likes you she WILL cuddle up to you. closest with rice
(they dont know who to give her to and shes super close to udon ( who they pushed onto himeru) and want them to still stick together... and then tetora is like anything for my aniki and then finds his hands full with a kitten now so i guess ryuseitai has 2. teto mostly takes care of udon though because soba is. way too much for him. they all do take udon and soba to practice sometimes and even get kuro to make the two kitties little ryuseitai cat jackets. they are ryusei orange (soba) and ryusei grey (udon))
rice f
-relaxed, sometimes aloof. really kind baby, purrs as soon as someone pets her. . closest with udon
(rinky call himeru and like. merumeru. we need help . himeru is like. No. but then they manage to get him to take her anyway and also take udon for tetora. hes also like. dad that says they dont like the cat but love the cat. he LOVES the cat. spoils her rotten. only the finest food for her. only the finest bed. udon gains some stuff in association because roommates. Nyanko loves them too. she gets so spoiled that she is so picky with food. except for when shes back visiting /being watched by niki and rinne niki's food will always be good no matter how long and how much shes eaten- meru brings her to visit kaname sometimes
(coma) she nuzzles kaname n gives gentle licks
(awake) cuddled up to him so much, sees him as a mini meru and since kaname is important to meru kaname is also important to rice. when kaname is sad/upset she climbs into his lap and purrs )
pachi m
- the worst one (in niki's words) the best one ( in rinne's words) an absolute menace, steals rinne's headband, steals his dad's collar, pushes things over, likes to bite things and leave marks, very curious and quick to getting into trouble. loves his siblings though, wouldn't ever hurt them.. an absolute sweetheart when youre not looking
- (Because Rinne LOVES pachi he has such high expectations for whoever takes him that Kohaku is just like. what about your brother and rinnes like but pachi is a lot of work i dont think he'll be able to do it alone and then kohakus like. ok then me and rabuhan can help him and rinnes like :)))) - pachi has an obvious fav and thats hiiro becsuse hiiro looks like (his grandpa) Rinne. Aira gets frustrated often because Pachi is such a menace and even Kohaku struggles to keep the little guy under control but oh man with hiiro he is a little baby and isnt trouble at all.)
the first few days after the kittens are given to their new homes niku is THE SADDEST thing shes just meowing so sadly looking for her babies and rinrin is trying to comfort her. she doesnt stop being sad until niki gently takes her aside and talks to her telling her that her babies are safe and they will visit often
going back to rinne though. its like hes the actual mom he experiences empty nest SO HARD its pathetic he misses the kittens so much he just. lies down on the floor facedown while nikis just crouched down with niku in his lap and poking rinne like rinne-kun come on my stupid love you can go see them whenever you want to;
rinrin finds this entire thing amusing but puts aside their differences to climb onto rinne’s back and sit and purr trying to comfort him. because wow this guy he Doesnt like really loves his family so he should at least try to confort him.
also rinne slutshames rinrin cuz that guy is stuck behind no kissing before marriage while rinrin is over here making a whole family. Lmfao
and the cats in return cuddle and give niki kitty kisses all over while rinne is just standing there screaming in his head . niki gives the kitties kisses back and rinne just walks over and lifts eithe rniki or the kitties up and nikis just amused like rinne-kun are you seriously beefinng with our cats again
this ones from sana its too good to paraphrase
Rinnya: [nuzzling into Niki and giving him kisses]
Rinne: You have your own wife bACK OFF FUCKER—
this one too sana ily
Thought your cats were gay turns out one of them’s actually a girl call that queerbaiting /j
rinnya doesnt care cuz hes happy with a wife that he can kiss and love
Every time Rinne slutshames him he makes a point to kiss and cuddle his wife
Nikitty has no idea what’s going on but she likes the attention and kisses him back
rinnya: purrr (this is what ur missing out on, loser)
rinne:
rinnya: mrrrr~ (my adorable wife~)
rinne: niki can we kick the cats out
niki:
niki: rinne-kun are you beefing with the cats again.
this ones also from sana its so funny its when the kittens are born
Rinne, deadpan at Rinnya through tears while holding his kittens: whore.
anyways more time passes and gay marriage either gets legalized or Rinne finally decides to just straight up propose despite it all maybe get ceremony done where its actually legal but basically hes planning and talks to the cats while hes planning and shows them the ring and is like. freaking out because he has the ring and what if niki says no like how he always does and what if niki doesnt love him like how he loves niki and what if- and niku and rinrin are so fed up with him niki comes home and rinne hides the ring box and is about to put it off for another day but rinrin jumps at rinne and knocks the box out of Rinne’s pocket and niki sees it and bends over to pick it up and then rinne is cornered and finally finally FINALLY gives a serious proposal and niki actually accepts with a smile on his face because he does love his rinne-kun and honestly had been waiting for a serious proposal rather than the joke teasing ones for so long ever since it was legalized or etc
so of course the cats are invited to the wedding they get niku another scarf with the wedding flowers embroidered onto it and train rinrin to carry the rings. rinrin is a smart little guy and succesfully carries out his job
(rinne threatened to actually kick him out if he ruined his special day; also niku would be furious with him if he made niki (or rinne) sad)
----
various misc things//
niki voice rinnekun they roam free they dont need walks rinne voice its a bonding moment nikikyun biki voice you are literally cuddlibg with them (minus rinrin) every day when are you not bonding with them
when niku wants rinnya to stop doing something she just bites the collar and tugs. he stops instantly
rinne tries to sneak some of the kittens to work sometimes when the kittens r still with them and niki is like .-. rinnekun. No
he gets away with it rarely but always comes home to a
1. angry niki
2. angry niku
3. rinrin watching the two get mad at him
ibara: so thats what is happening next week
(tiny mewl)
ibara:
ibara: was that a cat i just heard
rinne: no
pachi: (meows louder, sticking his head out from the pocket rinne is hiding him in.)
ibara:
rinne: i heard it was bring your kid to work day
(cw animal death except its just old age) its still sad tho
niku goes first peacefully passing away of old age way further into the future- all of them can tell shes slowly failing, sluggish and with barely any energy. rinrin sticks next to her 24/7, gently cleabing her, nuzzling her, grabbing food for her. She passes away cuddled up with everyone, Niki, Rinne, and Rinrin all together on the couch saying their goodbyes. She gives a lick and a soft purr to Niki, rubs her head slowly against rinne like the first thing she did when she first approached him so long ago back at the cafe, and touches noses with rinrin one last time before closing her eyes.
a week later rinrin goes he CANNOT live without her he's heartbroken and niki and rinne can only watch in sadness as their remaining cat slowly lets himself die; he doesnt eat, barely moves from his spot which was niku’s favorite spot to lay in, head down comfortably sitting on the scarf niku always wore
The (grown)kittens come by and he perks up a little but only to give them loving licks and gentle bites.
its the one week that rinne and rinrin stop fighting and rinnes at the apartment while nikis working a shift and rinne knows rinrin is on his last legs and is just. holding the cat he could never get along with and texts niki who drops everythinf and runs home while rinne just silently talks to the cat like yeah we hated each other but were the same arent we? we love our loved ones and honestly if i was in your shoes, if niki was gone like niku, id be doing the same. and then rinrin bites him gently one last time and rinne laughs and is like yeah. i understand. say hi to niku for us, okay? and then thats when rinrin lets go
(niki got back during this but opened the door so quietly, saw the scene and heard rinne talking, and stepped aside to give them their moment))
when both cats are gone the apartment just feels. empty and both rinne and niki just sit cuddled up together on the couch silently mourning the two members that have become such a big part of their small family.
they dont ever get new pets again, but still pet-sit the (grown) kittens when asked to. it isnt the same, but they heal together, fill that emptiness with each other’s comfort
#enstars#rinniki#bean art#rinkittyAU#THIS HAS BEEN ROTTING MY BRAIN FOR THE PAST 48 HOURS#joint brainrot with mostly sana and noya and moot circle#these kitties have taken over my BRAIN#cw for animal death at the end but its nothing bad its just. sad and old age
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CONTINUING EPISODE 5
sorry bro, she's into women
which is totally fair, have you SEEN women????
she's AGGRESSIVELY trying to communicate her love of women with him
HES SO JEALOUS THIS IS HILARIOUS
(its reminding me of sound getting really angry when pat suggests that tiw might like win)
(I PHYSICALLY CANNOT STOP TALKING ABOUT THE SATANG AND PERTH SIBLINGS AGENDA, IM SORRY (im not sorry))
IT'S SO CUTE OH MY GOSH
I LOVE
LMAO
NICE ONE
OML
IM WHEEZING
I THINK HE DREW HIM AS HANDSOME SQUIDWARD
THIS IS THE FUNNIEST THING IVE EVER SEEN
IM DYING
THE RESEMBLANCE IS UNCANNY
OML ITS 1 IN THE MORNING I NEED TO BE QUIET AND NOT WAKE EVERYONE UP BUT IM LAUGHING SO HARD
it's been over three minutes straight of me just laughing at this
im losing my mind
EVERY TIME I THINK IVE CALMED DOWN, I OPEN UP THE YOUTUBE TAB AGAIN, AND THEN IT BRINGS ANOTHER BURST OF LAUGHTER
I quite literally laughed about the handsome squidward drawing for nearly 5 whole minutes
OH MY GOODNESS
AND HE GETS A BASKETBALL THROWN AT HIM????
ARE WE ABOUT TO GET GUYNAWA CONTENT AS WELL???
WHEN I THOUGHT THIS EPISODE COULDNT GET ANY BETTER OMG
THEY ARE FLIRTING
TAKE NOTES, GUYS, THIS IS FLIRTING
i... have never been flirted with before. nor have I ever flirted with someone before. (at least to my knowledge)
BUT THEYRE FLIRTING GUYS THYERE FLIRTING
oh you wanna make out with him so bad
THEYRE FLIRTING SO HARD
THEYRE JUST TRYNA GET EACH OTHER'S ATTENTION
JUST MAKE OUT GUYS, ITLL BE A MORE PRODUCTIVE USE OF YOUR TIME
PO4ENKWGOPILVJWENJKGSVOJW3E4HIBSJGJPOINVOP4JWEOPINSGD
THEY SHOOK HANDS
THEIR HANDS ARE HOLDING EACH OTHER
ALSO: THEY HAVE TO BE NICE TO EACH OTHER FOR AT LEAST A WHILE
AND THEN THEYRE GONNA GET USED TO BEING NICE TO EACH OTHER WITH THE FRIENDLY BANTER THROWN IN THERE FOR SPICE
AND THEN THEYRE GONNA MAKE OUT OR SMTH
WOAH
W O A H
WOAH BUDDY
I COULD FEEL THE SEXUAL TENSION OF THAT THROUGH THE SCREEN
they just need to slap their bodies against each other (clothes optional)
THE HEAD TILT
HES SO ATTENTIVE
LOOK AT THE LONGING LOVING STARE
I have no idea who this is.
but I am very much in love with her
the amount that he cares about him is literally insane and its making me insane
THE LOCKS
OH MY GOODNESS
aw nooo sailom is sad bc he knows kang likes pimfah :(
WHAT DOES HE NEED TO DO
IS HE GONNA PUT UP HIS OWN LOCK???
IS HE GONNA PUT UP HIS OWN LOCK AND ITLL BE LIKE LOCKED WITH SAILOMS OR SMTH?????
OMG OR MAYBE
MAYBE HE'S GONNA TRIP OVER IN THE ENGINEERING SQUARE THINGY
oh :(
but the sad piano music is playing and its showing sailom's face
im wanting to think that sailom's gonna turn around bc he's sad, and as soon as he starts walking away, kang's gonna suddenly have a realisation and he'll change his mind and he'll put the lock with sailom's, but im definitely delusional
what.
hang on
im so confused right now
she... likes sailom?
what?????
I-
wh
what????
I wasn't expecting a love triangle like this???
IM LITERALLY SO CONFUSED WHAT IS GOING ON
GIVE ME ANSWERS BITCH
dude.
DUDE.
D U D E
THE WAY THAT YOU'RE LOOKING AT HIM RN??????
ITS MAKING ME EVEN MORE CONFUSED
D U D E
YOU'RE FOCUSSING SO MUCH ON HIS LIPS THERE HAD TO BE A ZOOM IN SHOT
THERE IS NO HETERO EXPLANATION
I WAS SO SURE KANG WOULD REALISE HIS FEELINGS TODAY BUT ITS JUST GOTTEN SO BLINDINGLY OBVIOUS TO EVERYONE EXCEPT HIM
O K A Y
OKAYOKAYOKAYOKAYOKAYOKAY
OKAY
ITS ALL GOOD
THANK GOODNESS
SO HE'S GONNA *PROPERLY* REALISE HIS FEELINGS NEXT WEEK AND HES GONNA DANCE AROUND TELLING HIM FOR THE ENTIRE EPISODE AND THEN THEYRE GONNA KISS AT THE END GJREKDBG I CANT WAIT
im so proud of myself for being right about that. I predicted that they're gonna kiss next week. im so freaking awesome
in other news: I am not okay
IN OTHER OTHER NEWS: IT'S ONLY 1:45AM TODAY AND IVE ALREADY FINISHED, IM DOING BETTER THAN I DID LAST WEEK
goodnight folks, and keep breathing drts
peace out ✌️
#WAIT NO IM GOING AWAY FOR A WEEK STARTING TOMORROW AND THERE'S LITERALLY NO RECEPTION WHERE IM GOING#IM GONNA HAVE TO WATCH THE EPISODE LIKE A DAY LATE NOOOOO#quodekash disregards sleep because of dangerous romance#dangerous romance#dangerous romance series#dangerous romance the series#kanghansailom#kangsailom#sailomkanghan#sailomkang#perthchimon#chimonperth#chimon wachirawit#perth tanapon#view benyapa#marc pahun#win pawin#pawin kulkaranyawich#marcwin#winmarc#guynawa#nawaguy#guynava#navaguy
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