#a journey to love fic

[xthelastknownsurvivorx]

ajtl/yngs x hello saturday

after watching the actual hello saturday episode that the cast attended I got inspired and decided to write a version with the characters from ajtl because i'm missing them and why not. you can watch the full episode here with english subs but I've also summarized the main points in the post in case you don't want to watch the full 1.5 hour show (though imo it's worth it because it with very fun)

The episode basically follows the games/structure of the actual one that the cast of ajtl appeared on: the antidote carrier trying to create a team of non-poisoned swordsmen through hints acquired by winning various mini-games to successfully draw the six-sided sword from Malan Mountain

The games include an action version of "radish squat" to choose their identities as one of the antidote carrier (1), a poisoned swordsman (4), a non-poisoned swordsman (3); pop culture pictionary, except using up to 5 emojis instead of drawing; 3, 2, 1, look here!; group pose description game; some action-based game to replace the don't sing, move game because I didn't find this segment very interesting

Instead of only having four characters guest star on the show, I'm replacing the usual hello saturday cast members with four more characters

In total, there are two teams consisting of: Ren Ruyi, Ning Yuanzhou, Yu Shisan, Yang Ying AND Li Tongguang, Qian Zhao, Yuan Lu, and Sun Lang

In the first game, Ren Ruyi picks up Yang Ying for one of her actions and flusters her

Li Tongguang has to do the same thing thrice with Sun Lang, who gets very flustered and giggly over it suddenly I have a new rare pair ig

Yang Ying chooses to sajiao and ask for a kiss from Ruyi for one of her actions, which forces someone from the opposing team to do it towards their other three team members

I can't decide whether that someone should be Li Tongguang or Qian Zhao because both feel like equally amusing options

Also someone makes Ning Yuanzhou pout cutely during this game

Following a loss during the emoji pictionary game, Ren Ruyi is the only one not to be frightened by the balloon popping while Yang Ying flinches at the sound

Ren Ruyi trades away Yang Ying after this game, much to Li Tongguang's smug satisfaction ("It seems that shifu doesn't want you either")

Ren Ruyi doesn't understand the rules to 3, 2, 1, look here! and splashing Li Tongguang when he won

Yang Ying gets flustered and splashing Ning Yuanzhou when he won instead of protecting Li Tongguang (who also gets splashed) and profusely apologizing to him (不好意思，远舟哥哥!)

"Shouldn't you also be apologizing to your partner?" He laoshi (the host) jokes. "He's far more soaked thanks to Ren Ruyi"

At some point Ren Ruyi and Ning Yuanzhou switch so it's master vs disciple, which of course ends with Ren Ruyi winning

There's an occurrence where Ren Ruyi chooses Li Tongguang to come to her team which has him ecstatic, but she immediately trades him away the following round when she suspects he's been "poisoned" (the others on his team make fun of him for this)

Qian Zhao's stoic face during the group pose game makes everyone laugh

After the final game Ren Ruyi has to choose between Ning Yuanzhou and Yu Shisan to leave her team, with the former giving a very serious appeal before it dissolves into petty accusations between the two of them

Ning Yuanzhou: "Ruyi, I promise it's not me. You know me and that the clue in the last round is definitely about me. So please, trust me once again."

"As if you didn't break your promise to her! Beauty, listen to me, I'm a much better choice than Ning Yuanzhou. Who else is as handsome and reliable as me?" "Ruyi has never chosen you before, so why would she start now?" "You also lied about being poisoned to all of us for several months!" "For the sake of the mission! I didn't want to hurt morale" "Do you really think you can trust the guy like that? I worked hard this entire episode!" "Yu Shisan—"

In the end Ruyi chooses to keep Ning Yuanzhou and send away Yu Shisan ("Beauty! How could you?") and this proves to be the right choice

if someone wants to write a fic based on my hc please ask first

[carebeardean]

Charles has always left Edwin little notes slipped between the pages of his favorite books, in his science equipment, places he knows Edwin loves. Just silly things—post its that say “hi Edwin :)”. doodles of Edwin with his nose stuck in a book. reminders to stock up on wolfsbane. but.

Then, post canon, Edwin tentatively starts dating people. And it’s ridiculous, because Edwin’s right there, all the time, but Charles..misses him a bit. And his heads a mess, and he can’t sort out what the hell he’s feeling most of the time, and whenever he tries to say any of it out loud it comes out rubbish.

So. He writes down some of the shit he can’t say right, and because he’s a coward, hides them so he doesn’t have to see Edwin’s face when he reads them.

then Edwin starts writing back.

Neat lilac blue little envelopes appear in Charles coat pockets. In his bag. Once, in his shoe? Some nights, Edwin will clear his throat and mention something from a letter, offhand, like they’re just picking up conversation, and Charles can pretend they are. That they always have talked about the basement, the belt, the nameless fear that chokes him every time Edwin walks out the door with someone else on his arm.

Sometimes he can’t. The words get stuck in his throat. Edwin’s not mad, he’s maddeningly, stubbornly kind about it, which is worse.

Some nights they trade. A secret for a secret. Charles learns about the novels Edwin used to hide under his mattress, about all the lonely years before Charles got there. About Simon.

Meanwhile, Edwin is losing his mind, because Charles has accidentally stumbled onto what was a fucking courting ritual in his time. Love letters were something engaged couples treasured for years, kept and reread over and over. (Edwin does. keep them in a special box, will take one out and trace the words, tuck it in his breast pocket for courage).

Edwin would rather have to reattach a limb again than lose Charles trust, all the dark and beautiful things he shares with Edwin only. He knows—knows Charles doesn’t mean to make him fall more in love with him.

[mausinly]

I think the biggest part about being in a relationship with Nikto is that you help him relearn things about himself, about his body and his mind. It takes a bit, but somehow, you convince him to let you touch him. It would have been easier if it had been for sex. That's mindless and instinctual enough for him not to worry about. He could have sex with you, no problem (lie).

But no. This was a different touch. Instead of pushing his pants down, your hands carefully push his shirt up, just under his chest. You don't make any moves to pull it off, just keeps it there as your fingers trace along his torso. The pads of your fingers feel each dip and muscle and he tries not to shiver when your nails ghost over his scars.

It's about the sensations. It's about finding all the latches and hooks that hold him together and letting you pull him apart. You pull back his layers and teach yourself about every gear and wire, every muscle and tendon. Then you put him back together exactly as he was. You didn't want to fix him. You wanted to know him

Your deft hands cradle his head, lips kiss across his mangled face as you whisper the most foreign, loving, painful words to him.

Something about the way you hold him makes him feel small. Sometimes, he doesn't want to be big. Sometimes, he'll humor you and let you pull him into your lap. He's such a behemoth, but the way your hands squeeze his hips as you grin up at him makes him feel precious, like a prized pet to be pampered.

It'll take a while, but he'll be a lapdog if you want him to be. Do you want him to bark? Beg on his knees? You've worshipped him, let him worship you more.

[crystalflygeo]

Last of her kind Emperor!Alpha!Zhongli + Omega!Dragoness!Reader

cw/tags: This chapter has no smut but still contains highly suggestive themes and sexual implications. Mentions of slavery and past sexual abuse on fem!reader, A/B/O dynamics and heat mentions. fem!reader suffers with self-worth and bad memories, including past insults and abuse.

notes: After so long finally part 2!! EEEEEEEE I am so excited but also so nervous pls ;w; like if you want the first part can be read as a standalone and have a "happy ending" but now I am committed to the emotional roller coaster, A/B/O dynamics and LONG BURN PINING so yep >:3c hope this does justice to everyone's expectation tho. And hope you like it and accompany me on this tale hehe

As a lil sidenote brackets [] now indicate past actions/words and bad memories, regular italics for emphasis, inner thoughts or the little pinyin I sprinkled here (which btw is taken straight from genshin wiki so...).

<- Part 1 Part 3 ->

Being precious all of the sudden was… different.

Your hand subconsciously kept touching your bonding mark, as if to make sure it was still there, to soothe you.

After a quick meal just between Zhongli and you, consisting of some soft rice buns and delicious minced meat packaged inside a crispy pastry shell, you were then offered some new clothes. It was much more elaborate and certainly more layered than anything you’d worn before: a long skirt and flowy sleeves in a silky soft fabric, beautifully embroidered and hastily modified to make a hole for your tail to slip out. A sash keeping everything in place while accentuating your figure. You immediately loved it although it felt a little heavy and restricting.

Now, you quietly follow Zhongli as he leads you around the palace. He’s back to his former fully-human appearance, wearing an elegant attire, and everywhere you go, people bow at him and cast curious silent glances at you. It was rather unnerving.

It’s fine, you are used to being stared at, judged. You hold your tail up close for comfort.

The place is huge and you quickly get lost trying to map it out in your head, simply following along until you reach a large room with a few simple beds scattered around. Bookcases and cabinets stacked the walls, filled with all sorts of books, papers, jars and things. A pungent smell present in the air.

A green-haired man leans over a desk, glasses perched on his nose as he frantically scribbles some notes. What seems like powders and plants litter the space around him, along with a few more glass containers, incense, and a tea set with a steaming fresh cup.

“Baizhu.” Zhongli’s voice calls and you stiffen a little, hearing it again after a while of silence. It is still warm and deep but with a more reserved and regal tone like when he first met you.

The green-haired man (a Beta, you recognize) looks up and blinks in surprise, then smiles brightly and says some words you do not understand, you shuffle in place.

“Yes, this is her.” Zhongli replies. “I will ask you to speak in in common tongue so she can understand as well, I don’t want to unnecessarily unnerve her.”

Well, that is… very considerate. It eases you a little.

“Of course, your majesty.” He turns to you, his eyes were a bright amber, also with slitted pupils. Was it common in liyuens? “My name is Baizhu, the royal doctor and apothecary, pleased to meet you, empress.”

Empress?!

“E-Empress?!” You can’t help but blurt out.

“Why of courssse.” A high-pitched voice hisses and you almost jump when a white snake peaks her head from her coils at the desk, staring up at you. “You’re mated to hisss majesssty the emperor, sssso, it would be underssstood you’re now the empresssss.” Her split tongue flickers.

Baizhu chuckles. “Changsheng, be nice.”

You don’t know what to answer, mostly because you’re still reeling from the fact that you’re apparently now an empress, and because there’s a talking snake.

Liyue is weird…

“I decided to bring her here exactly because of that.” Zhongli turns to you and suddenly holds one of your hands, softly, staring at you with such affection it makes you melt. “Darling, would you let him check your bonding mark for a moment?”

You’re a little nervous, but it is not like you can refuse… right? You nod quietly.

Baizhu approaches and examines your neck and you fight the urge not to flinch or growl. No Omega likes it when a stranger is so close to such a sensitive spot. He hums and tilts his head but doesn’t touch you. “It seems it’s already healed due to her illuminated beast blood but the scar is present. I’d say the bond has been properly established, congratulations your majesty.” He smiles warmly.

A grateful bubbly feeling creeps up your chest. Properly established. So, it’s true.

You feel Zhongli’s hand squeeze yours lightly and look down at it, then back up at him. “Thank you, Baizhu. I will not keep you any longer. We still have a lot to do and I’m sure you do as well.”

Baizhu bows at him (at both of you, you realize) and then you’re on your way. Not before hearing the snake’s hissy whispers again

“A fine yin, hm…?”

--------------------------------------------

This is… your new home.

Zhongli shows you around some of the areas in what he called the “inner court” of the palace complex. Everything is so… large and open and lavish it has your head spinning, your eyes darting in every direction trying to take in all at once, walking fast on your new clothes. He guides you along the dining hall, a small temple, crosses through an enormous main hall where he explains audiences are held, and then a gorgeous outer garden that completely takes your breath away.

The wooden gilded architecture in golds and reds, the fresh wind and gentle sun. All sorts of new sounds and smells. The painted walls and high ceilings. The new plants and flowers. The chatters in a different language… everything is so distinct from the desert.

You soak in the new environment. Inhaling deeply.

It is both terrifying and exhilarating.

Finally, he guides you to another room, it looks similar to the nest room where you’d first been at, but larger. It is sparsely decorated with a large and comfy looking-bed, a desk, mirror and a small table with a couple chairs and a tea set. It smells nice enough.

You peek up at Zhongli.

“This will be your room.” He explains.

…What?

“We kept it simple for now but you are, of course, free to furnish and decorate it however you’d like. It’s close to my own room and anything you might need.”

Wait what?

Your ears lower down and you seem to deflate a little, disappointed. “H-Huh? But… I-I won’t be sleeping with you?” You ask softly.

Mated pairs sleep together, don’t they? They share living chambers and mix their scents together to symbolize their union. That’s what you’ve always been told. You are to always be near your Alpha, at his beck and call, warm up his bed and be ready to please.

Maybe things are different in Liyue? Or maybe it’s because he’s an emperor. Master didn’t tell you anything, so maybe you are just making a fool of yourself right now on your-

Zhongli clears his throat and looks at you a little surprised “I simply thought you’d be more comfortable having your own space, we… don’t really know each other very well yet, and I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Impose? As in order? But he’s your Alpha! “B-But I want to! Please! I-I mean… I thought that since we’re b-bonded…” You mumble shyly.

His cheeks turn a little pink, you like when that happens, he looks a lot less serious. He cups your cheek and you inhale looking up at those gorgeous golden eyes. “My dear dragoness. I don’t want you to feel forced to do anything you don’t want to. I know you were raised… differently, I cannot claim to understand your experiences, but listen to me: you are safe here.” He says the last part slowly, enunciating each word. “No one will scold you or punish you, least of all me. I want you to be free to speak and choose what you want.” He sighs. “Though I know it’ll be difficult...”

Furnish, impose, free… you don’t know any of those words.

But no punishment, to choose what you want, to be safe… it sounds surreal even.

What do you want?

His eyes soften at your nervous silence. “Let’s try this… do you really want to share my room, or would you like to stay here? I won’t be upset if you do.”

“I…” Your tail curls around you. “I want to stay with you. Sleep together. Like mates.” You mumble.

“Then it would be my honor, however, this room will stay ready if you change your mind, alright?” You glance around at the room again, and nod. “Now that that is settled, I have one last thing to do. I need to introduce you to a few very special people before I leave to-”

“Leave?!”

You didn’t mean to yelp like that.

“J-just to do my duties, I am not leaving you, I promise.” He corrects, a little taken aback. “I am sorry my dear, but as much as I’d like to spend every moment by your side right now, I have a few pressing matters to tend to. I know you’re nervous, everything is new and scary and overwhelming but I promise I’ll leave you in good hands and be back as soon as I can.”

You nod, now feeling a little embarrassed at the whole ordeal. You’d been feeling so at ease with his presence, showing you around, listening to his voice name and explain everything you saw that you’d almost forgotten. “You’re the emperor, I’m sure you’re very busy. No need to worry about me, I’ll behave, my lord.”

He frowns a little at that but says nothing, and you choose to say nothing else either.

Going back to the main hall, you immediately spot three people lined up looking at you with a mix of the already expected curiosity and excitement. One of them in particular immediately catches your attention, he’s an Alpha and you can’t help but feel a little nervous…

“Allow me to introduce you, these three are my most loyal and closest council members: Ping, Ganyu and Xiao.” Zhongli gestures at them and all three bow lightly. “Like you and I they all have the blood of xiānshòu, and you can ask them for anything should you need help or have questions. I hope you learn to trust them and feel at ease.”

You nod quietly, still a bit fixated on the other Alpha.

“Xiao, or general Alatus, is one of Liyue’s strongest, most resilient and skilled warriors. He usually keeps guard at the palace to ensure my wellbeing and now yours as well, if you ever feel danger call out his name and he’ll come.”

Ah, did they notice you were staring…?

With a gesture of his hand Xiao manifests a gorgeous Jade spear, crystalline green shards reflecting light as he taps it by his side, standing firm, you flinch in surprise. “My spear shall now serve you too, empress.” His eyes too are golden and sharp, filled with a certain rigidness and determination you can’t quite put your finger on.

“Thank you, Xiao, dismissed.”

Xiao hums quietly and promptly disappears in a burst of black and green smoke, you stand there a little startled, your hand clings to the brown fabric of Zhongli’s sleeve.

“He might be an Alpha as well, but I promise you he’ll cause you no harm.” Your alpha murmurs softly towards you.

“O-okay…” You squeak, a bit embarrassed.

“Ganyu here is one of the most reliable people in the palace, perhaps the entirety of Liyue. Everything of importance reaches her ears and passes through her eyes. She’s able to organize meetings, events, report, compile information and assist every negotiation and decision of this palace with stunning efficiency. She too will help you with anything you need and might be in charge of a little logistics regarding you settling in for the next few days.” Zhongli smiles.

The young woman with long blue hair and… horns? chuckles and blushes a little. “Your majesty, you're too kind, I merely love doing my job.” She puts her hands together and beams at you, sunset eyes bright. “I’m so honored to meet you, rest assured I’ll take care of anything you need. I hope you feel comfortable and welcome at the palace!”

That sounded like a lot. You weren’t used to people coddling you like this. You didn’t want to give anyone trouble or work. “T-that’s alright, thank you.”

“Now, Ping is probably going to spend the most time with you, she’s very knowledgeable in culture, history and the inner workings of the palace amongst other things. She has graciously offered to teach you liyuen and anything else you’d be interested in.”

Unlike the other two Ping has a certain calm aura to her, contrasting Xiao’s seriousness and Ganyu’s excited energy. You can tell she’s a gentle old soul as she approaches you with a soft wrinkled smile and graying hair.

“Don’t worry young empress, while Lord Morax here is regrettably busy with a work-packed schedule,” She gives him a playful side stare “You and I will have some fun. I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.” She takes your hand and pats it comfortingly. It’s kind of an awkward gesture for you, but you still welcome the warmth and good intentions.

Zhongli chuckles quietly. “In that case, I’ll leave you in her care and see you at night for dinner, alright?” He seems to hesitate for a moment but then cups your face in his hands and places a soft kiss at your forehead. The unexpected gesture has you blushing scarlet and your heart speeding up like crazy. His thumb brushes at the scales under your eyes, so affectionate in the smallest ways… “I know it’s not ideal, but it’ll be fine, yes?”

You stare at his golden eyes, the red lines, his handsome face framed with dark hair, his serene smile.

You don’t like this. You don’t want him to leave. The idea makes you uncomfortable.

But it’s not like you can say no.

You nod.

“Thank you, Ping.” Both of them exchange a glance and then he turns to the blue-haired woman still in the room. “Ganyu, if you will.”    

“Right away your majesty!” She scurries after him, talking quickly in foreign tongue while both walk away.

You stare after him for a moment longer.

“It’s a little difficult, isn’t it?”

You quickly turn back to Ping and then look down, ears folding back.

She laughs softly. “No need to be ashamed dear, it is understandable that you are unsure with all this, it’s a lot of changes for such a short time and you bond is still fresh, but let’s take it easy.”

Your hand brushes at Zhongli’s bonding mark again. “O-Okay…”

“Are you hungry? Tired? Perhaps you want to rest a little?”

You want to scurry away to your mate’s room and curl up there, that’s what you want, but…

“Um, aren’t you… going to train me?”

Ping blinks a little taken aback “Train? Oh! Teach?”

Same thing.

“Well, yes. I did offer, but only if you’re feeling up to it young empress. You can take your time, we don’t have to start right away. And like I said, take it easy, it's only your second day here.” She explains. “You won’t be absorbing any information if you are uncomfortable and jittery like this.”

“S-sorry-”

“No need to apologize at all. Now tell me, is there anything you’ve seen or heard today that you’re curious about, anything you want to do?”

What you want…

You think back a few hours earlier. The infirmary, the small temple, the grand hall, and…

“The garden.” You speak. “Can we go outside and see?”

Ping smiles brightly. “Of course! I’m sure there are a lot of things there that will catch your interest and cheer you up.”

Your tail sways a little after you as you follow the old lady along the corridors.

------------------------         

The garden is breathtaking.

More than a garden it feels like a whole different world. Bright and exciting and colorful, full of life. It reminds you of an Oasis, but just… more!

A grand pond with multicolored fishes and a couple of turtles sunbathing. Walk paths made of stone, plants everywhere you see: in trees with vibrant yellows, oranges and all shades of greens, in flowers with soft colors and small petals, in thick bushes. The light filters through the leaves and there’s the soft tweets of small birds.

“It’s… so pretty!” You exclaim happily.

“I’m glad you think so. Gardens like this are carefully cared for and preserved to impress, but they also represent beauty, abundance a sense of harmony.” Ping explains as she is now the one following after you, skipping along the path. “These trees you see are sandbearers, and that one is a ginkgo tree, you can tell the difference by the shapes of their leaves.” She points at each one and you follow with your gaze, picking a small leaf from the floor, golden and fan-shaped.

“Ooh…”

“See those smaller fishes? They’re goldfishes. The bigger ones are kois.” She gestures at the animals freely swimming around. Some of them are huge!

“What do they eat?” You blurt out.

“Well, usually algae and wheat. We can get some another day and you can feed them.”

“Really?!”

“Of course.”

“Oh! Is that a koi too? It’s so… long and pretty.”

“Ah, that one is a golden koi. Lord Morax has a few of them here. They are also called Jīnchì Jiǎlóng or ‘false dragons’ you know? For the small horns and long bodies. They do resemble your tail a little, don’t they?”

You move your tail forward and stare at it, then stare at the serpentine fish.     

“Yes, sort of… Jin chi… jia long.” You mumble.

“Here, I think you’ll like these ones. Come with me.” You eagerly follow after Ping as she rounds the pond and guides you towards a few red bushes. They’re dotted with pink round flowers. “These are silk flowers, Nícháng-huā, usually harvested to make clothes, but there are many special ornamental variants and between us both, your dear mate has a weak spot for these so he has quite the collection.” She chuckles.

“Orna…metal?”

“Ornamental, it means mostly for decoration.”

“Oh!” Suddenly you feel dumb, you’d thought for a second that was a liyuen word too. “I’m sorry… I don’t even know common tongue very well.” How could you even expect to learn liyuen?

“No worries, dear, learning a new language is a daunting task, it takes a bit of work every day. If you keep learning, using and practicing words, you’ll get there.”

You smiled softly. Ping was so… patient and supportive.

So much different from…

[You have to try harder.]

[Tch that is not good enough.]

[Are you stupid?!]

[Useless omega.]

You looked at the budding silk flowers and blinked. Once. Twice. Why was your vision blurry now? What was this feeling?

“Oh, oh young empress please don’t cry. It’s alright” Ping’s alarmed remark helps you understand. She fusses over you. “Are you ok?”

You wipe at your tears and smile, a genuine bright smile.

“I’m fine.”

And this time, you truly mean it.

----------------------------------------

After a rather fancy bath (the kind of like you used to take before being presented to Alphas, with bubbles and scented oils...) and a good dinner Zhongli and you headed over for his chambers for the night. You couldn’t help but be a little… nervous.

This is stupid. He’s your Alpha.

He’s been nothing but kind to you.

What if he wants to… d-do things?

Then you’ll do it. He’s your mate. It’s your obligation.

You were the one who chose this anyway.

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, anxiety creeping up your chest. Were your fingers trembling? Was the room suddenly cold?

As expected, the bedroom was quite matching his style. Golds, browns and a bit of red and black here and there. Dragon imagery adorning some of the walls, a tea cabinet with a small table and shelves filled with all sorts of trinkets from precious stones and books to a beautiful fan and a tea set.

And then there was the bed.

A large canopy bed, enough to probably have your body and tail fully stretched across and still fit in the mattress, beautifully decorated and filled with fabrics and pillows.

The scent of Zhongli’s Alpha pheromones was definitely strong.

He yawns and runs a hand along his forehead, combing along his hair before pulling out the clip on it, letting his long dark locks spill free. He takes off his robe revealing his naked torso and you jolt.

It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine.           

You undress as well into your light sleeping clothes and gingerly slip into his bed, curling up around his pillows, surrounded by his scent.

His.

You are his.

It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine-

“Darling, is everything alright? Are you uncomfortable?” He asks concerned, climbing on the bed as well and reaching out to touch your arm. You squeak. “You’re… terrified, what’s wrong?” Then Zhongli’s eyes widen a little. “Oh. The scent… I completely overlooked that, my apologies. Is it too strong? Are you ok? Should have given you some things earlier for you to scent and include them here. This is no good…” He rambles a bit to himself as he sits up and crosses his arms thoughtfully.

You stare at him, anxiety still surging through your veins but now mixed in with confusion.

“Would you like to sleep in the other room we prepared for you instead?” He sighs.

“I… t-this is… you… would just let me leave?”

Zhongli tilts his head slightly, now he looks confused.

“I promised you that the room would be available-”

“So, you don’t want to mate?”

Silence.

He stares at you for a moment as you grip at the bedsheets, still tense.

His eyes widen as realization settles in.

Ah. The pink dusting in his cheeks is back.

“Y-You thought that… no! My dear, no, no, no…” He coughs into his fist awkwardly. “I apologize if I gave you the wrong idea. A-As I said before I want you to be comfortable and feel safe. No Alpha will force you to do anything you don’t want. Not even me. And you don’t have to feel forced to do things you don’t want to, either.”

You look down. Although you feel slightly more relieved.

“I want to stay here. A-and if you want to, I’ll service you, my lord. I was just… nervous, sorry.”

“I assure you there is no need for any of that.” He says softly. “Here.”

He pulls the covers and slips them over you both, lying down facing you but still keeping a little distance. You do the same, curled up face to face with him.

He’s so effortlessly handsome.

And kind.

And you like him.

But he’s still an Alpha.

“Is this alright? We’re just going to sleep, I promise.” He brushes some hair away from your face.

You nod.

“Is there… anything you want to talk about or ask me?”

You... don’t know.

You shake your head.

“Hmmm. Want to share about your day? What were you up to with Ping?” He gives you a playful smile. Suddenly he feels less like an imposing strict emperor, or like a scary Alpha. He’s just your Zhongli.

“She… showed me the garden. I wanted to see.”

“Ah, the royal garden has many fascinating sights and it’s a beautiful landscape to retreat to and ease one’s mind. I had the feeling you’d be interested.”

“There were so many beautiful things. She taught me about the silk flowers, nícháng-huā. And all the trees and fishes and birds.”

“Oh? Are these your first words in liyuen, my dear?”

You giggle. “I… suppose they are. She also showed me your turtles Jiàn and Fù and told me what their names mean, they are so cute. Oh! And we saw the liúlí bah… bai… bǎihé! I sang to them and they bloomed! It was... amazing.”

“I see. Not everyone can achieve that, I’ll admit I’m quite hopeless at singing.” He chuckles “What more did you learn?”

Feeling much more content and at ease you continue retelling all the new things you had experienced and the vocabulary you had learned including how to introduce yourself and some greetings and basic words. Talking for what felt like hours until weariness and sleep claimed you both.

Zhongli simply listened and stared at you, captivated. He seemed content as well.

It made you happy.

------------------------------------------

For the next couple of months, you established a sort of routine.

You’d wake up early alongside Zhongli, even though you didn’t need to, you simply enjoyed having some morning tea and breakfast with him. Afterwards he’d go tend to some of his official duties and you’d stay with Ping Lǎolao, learning more and more each day. By now you could even follow some basic conversation (provided the other person didn’t speak too fast) although reading and writing was still extremely difficult.

You’d expressed interest in some gardening and even headed to the kitchens to prepare some food by yourself. The maids claimed there was no need for the empress to do such ‘menial tasks’ but as an Omega you pride yourself in certain things, and cooking for your Alpha was something you’d yearned to do.

You were overjoyed when Zhongli praised your Jade parcels.

You’d always have lunch with him and some days he’d accompany you for a stroll or you’d stay at his study for some leisure time, or even at some meetings. It had been a little unnerving at first but you also knew it was important to know others and be known in the council, as well as understand Liyue outside of the palace walls. After all, you are an empress now.

At night, you slept close to him. The initial awkwardness of sleeping at opposite sides of the bed soon traded for a much cuddlier approach, often with you curled up to Zhongli’s chest or him spooning you, tails often intertwined together. The bed and the entire room now have a mix of your combined scents, like true mates.

And so, life was good…

------------------------------------------  

You’re slowly pulled out of your sleep as Zhongli stirs in the bed. You grumble a little and yawn, already missing his warmth. It was so pleasant…

“Good morning, my dear dragoness.”

“Morning…” You mumble, not opening your eyes and instead blindly reaching for his pillow to hug and cling to. “Can we stay for longer?” You whine.

“You definitely can, but I have to go.” He kisses your forehead “Rest, my dear.”

You pout but say nothing. Squeezing at the pillow and burying your face in it.

It smells so good…

------------------------------------------  

“Hmm… is it warmer today?” You wonder aloud as the maids help you up with the layers of your hanfu. The clothes still hot and heavy in contrast to what you used to wear at the desert, but today seemingly more so… the sash feels more constricting than usual. “I-I think I’d like to wear something a little lighter… if possible.”

“Of course, your majesty, no problem.”

You smile at them, grateful.

 --------------------------------------------

Sitting at Zhongli’s study room you practice some basic liyuen calligraphy while he seemingly goes over some important documents. The silence is comfortable and a warm cup of Qixing tea steams at both desks. Yet, something keeps bothering you.

You huff lightly, scratching and picking at the scales of your tail, irritated with the uncomfortable feeling. Why is it so itchy? A couple of them fall off, revealing new glossy ones underneath.

“Ah…” So that means…

You stop for a moment. The feverish feeling, scents being stronger on your nose, the urge to nest and cling to your mate.

Hmm… part of you is a little excited. And yet, there is fear.

------------------------------------------  

“You have quite the appetite today, dear. Eat slowly, the food won’t go anywhere.” Ping chuckles as you practically pick a little of every dish while still trying to keep some modicum of elegance. Chopsticks weren’t that easy after all.

“Yes… I think… I think it’s my pre-heat hormones.” You sigh before munching on a shrimp ball.

Your heat…

Your first heat with Zhongli. With any Alpha to be honest. You’d always had to endure them on your own (Master couldn’t have you get pregnant) and they were excruciating and debilitating, crying out for days with your skin burning and itching, trying to sate yourself with your fingers and humping pillows. But now… you’re happily bonded.

Would it… feel good again?

Like, that first time you two mated…

You feel your cheeks heat up.

“Excuse me?”

“Hm?”

You’re brought back to reality to see Ping staring at you seemingly a little alarmed.

“Pre-heat? Young empress, are you going into heat soon?”

“Y-yeah? Probably um, tonight…? Or tomorrow.” The onsets are always so quick, and your cycle has always been more or less stable.

The elder places her chopsticks down. “Have you told Lord Morax?”

“Um. N-No, not yet. But… m-maybe he already caught on...” You tilt your head.

…Right?

Then again even you took a couple of days to identify the signs, and now for sure you were at the brink of it. Maybe he’ll mate you tonight…

Hm… how will Zhongli react to your heat scent?

You have to do your best!

[Be a good omega.]

Ping stands up, her expression still gentle but with a sort of urgency to it, your instincts catch the feeling she’s worried about something.

“I have to inform about this, please stay here dear.”

Now you’re nervous. You nod slowly.

Why does it feel like you did something wrong…?

------------------------------------------

After that, things get… chaotic.

It’s only a while later that you find yourself at the infirmary. Ganyu and Zhongli are also there and everyone’s anxious pheromones in the air do not sit well with you (subtle as they are, your nose is hyperaware right now).

“I’m sorry the symptoms are already settled in. At this point it is simply not feasible to give her suppressants, she has to go through this heat.” Baizhu says, looking troubled.

Feasible? Suppressants? More unknown words but…

Is there something wrong with your heat?

Ganyu scurries off and Ping starts talking with Baizhu on the other side of the room. You cling to Zhongli’s robe, trying to soothe yourself with his presence but his scent is… agitated.

You whine to call out to him. You’re scared.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Zhongli pulls you close, cupping your face again, staring straight at you. “No… no my dear dragoness, of course you didn’t, it’s just…” He steels himself searching for the right words, it doesn’t ease you in the slightest. “We didn’t expect your heat so soon. I should have known, noticed… I’m sorry.”

Why is your alpha apologizing to you? That is ridiculous.

“Is it a bad thing?”

“It’s… not the right time.”

You’re so confused.

Don’t Alphas like it when Omegas are in heat? Soft, pliant, warm, needy and ready to breed.

“I just don’t want you to feel obligated to do this…” He says. “And… you could trigger my rut, you could end up pregnant. I don’t want to… scare you, or hurt you. It’s much too soon for us to share your heat. I thought we’d have more time for you to get acclimated to Liyue or…” He shakes his head. “Nevermind. For the next few days you’ll be in a separate room, yes? No one will disturb you during your heat, I promise.”

“B-But then… I… what…?”

Alone?

“Usually omegas take suppressants, like a type of medicine, to stave off their heats so they don’t have to face these risks or suffer them alone, and then when they’re ready, when they want, they choose to share heats with their partners.” He explains.

“But I want to! I… I’ll be good!”

Zhongli sighs. “Darling you are good, you are precious to me. You don’t need to prove anything or do things because they are ‘expected’ of you.”

He’s not listening!

He asks you what you want. He says you can choose. But now that you tell him, ask him, beg him even… he denies you?

How come you’re always making the wrong choice?

Was it all a lie then?

“But I- T-then- Why-… YOU’RE CONFUSING ME!!” You yell, tears stinging in your eyes.

There are a few gasps and you see not only Baizhu and Ping, but Ganyu and some of the maids staring at you in shock. You cover your mouth, eyes wide at the sudden burst of fierceness and emotion.

You yelled at him.

You talked back.

You should be punished.

He stares at you, frozen like a statue for a few moments. You stare at him, pitiful, your eyes begging. A whimper leaves you and Zhongli lets out a shuddering breath.

Oh, your Alpha wants you, you know it.

"Please..." You mumble, voice so small.

"I'm sorry my dear, it's better this way." His hand moves towards you, to cup your face again or brush at your hair you're not sure, but he stops himself before you can find out. He sighs, averting his gaze and looking conflicted, and then turns around.

This is your punishment.

"It'll be just a few days, you'll be well-cared for. This is for the best." He says sternly, voice pinched.

And then he leaves.

Your heart shatters.

Everything is a blur after that. You’re gently guided along towards an empty nest room, the same one you'd first met him at, there are some things with both your scents on it but they feel sterile, washed anew.

Your hands start trembling. Your eyes start to water. Your lips quiver. Your throat feels tight, choked and dry. Your body feels feverish, hot and restless.

Zhongli rejected you.

“Your majesty please calm down."

[Useless.]

[Moron.]

[Whore.]

You could no longer breathe, hear nor see. You feel like you're drowning, unable to process what just happened. Your mate…your precious mate…he…he…

He abandoned you.

“Your majesty…?"

You scream.

[fistfuloflightning]

I binge read @ruensroad’s glorious fic A Voice You Hear With Your Heart (belated congrats on surviving NaNoWriMo hon!) and because I am currently incapable of forming coherent thoughts for a review, have a rough approximation of the fic cover I had stuck in my head :D

[lunarharp]

pretty & cute witch men

[welcometogrouchland]

I feel like for the first few years of guardianship Darius and Hunter really struggle to figure out how to refer to each other.

Like it's easier for Hunter, he pretty quickly settles on "guardian" for explaining their relationship to other people and just referring to Darius by name when talking to the man himself. Overtime the phrasing gradually warms, becoming "foster parent" and eventually, once Hunter's already an adult old enough to move out, "Dad".

(Sidenote: he doesn't move out til he's in his mid to late twenties, bc he's under no obligation too, Darius low-key doesn't want him too, and the two of them want to make up for lost time in a sense, since Hunter only had 2 years of legal dependency on Darius before aging out of the system. Darius adopts Hunter retroactively as an adult)

Darius on the other hand has a real conundrum on his hands for those first few years. He has a lot of options! But "ward" is too formal and makes it sound like Darius picked him up off the street like after his parents were murdered, "apprentice/student" isn't really accurate considering the focus of Darius and Hunter's relationship has less to do with Hunter learning magic and more to do with Hunter being housed and fed. "Kid" and "foster son" are there...but...

Look, Darius isn't going to refer to Hunter more familiarly than Hunter refers to him! He's not gonna make it WEIRD. He's not a dad, because Hunter doesn't want/need him to be (and also parenthood is scary <3). Darius doesn't know the first thing about being a dad, despite how his friend group teases him.

Eda and Eberwolf are the two who are worst about it. They torture him with how 'fatherly' he's allegedly being (allegations Darius will DENY til his GRAVE!!!) And Eda specifically compares his journey to hers, saying it always starts off with you referring to them as your apprentice (again, Darius doesn't plan on doing that), as your roommate (...kinda weird in Darius' opinion? But okay Eda), or even your pet (????HELLO???). But eventually, they always become your dumb kid when you least expect it.

She's had a couple cups of appleblood by this point, but Darius knows on some level she's right and he's steadfastly ignoring that fact, even as Eber continues to refer to Hunter as his "cub" (kinda cute but Darius doesn't know how Hunter would feel being compared to an animal). The only people who are even remotely reasonable about all this (besides Lilith who's a bit disinterested in kid talk) is Raine and Alador, who both sort of neutrally, a bit awkwardly refer to Hunter as Darius' Boy.

Darius referring to Hunter as "my boy" is funnily enough what sticks the longest before it evolves to son boy. Hunter's crushing it at a derby match? Darius is whooping and cheering, yelling "THAT'S MY BOY!!!" At the other parents in the stands. Hunter is doing something dangerous or inadvisable where others can see him? "Darius, your boy-" "AHH! MY BOY". Hunter, a year into his stay with Darius finally comes clean about everything to do with him being a grimwalker, and is afraid that he's going to go back to seeing him as just an inferior replacement for Darius' beloved mentor? Darius (who has just had to process some of the most bonkers, emotionally heavy information in his life) gently, hesitantly puts a hand on his shoulder (the 'good' one Hunter doesn't mind people touching), and says that Hunter's much more than that. He's Darius' Boy and he's not going to kick him out or get angry or love him any less for things out of his control. It's good. They're good.

Like I said, it evolves over time and 'boy' becomes somewhat obsolete as the two get caught up in the joy of finally feeling able to explicitly refer to each other as family. But unlike "guardian" or "ward" the word never gets fully retired. Even when Hunter is 30 and is arguing that he's more of a man than a boy now, he is still getting referred to by Darius as "his boy", the way some parents never really stop calling their adult kids baby or kiddo (Camila and Eda respectively btw).

Hunter makes one of those corny matching shirt sets at some point for a father's Day gift when he's 17/18, where the two shirts say "if lost, return Boy to me" (Darius) and "I'm Boy" (Hunter). Hunter mostly did it so he could own a funny shirt that says "I'm boy". Darius openly weeps upon seeing them. Like Oh my Titan he's boy. He's my boy. Oh wow

[starry-eyes-love]

Masterlist Joel Miller

Main Masterlist

🖤 Welcome to the Joel Miller Fanfic Masterlist 🖤

So happy you've stopped by. Below you will see series and one-shots written about Joel Miller, both within the Last of Us Universe and also Alternate Universe.

Please remember, all works written here are fiction.

Any series that is marked "complete" means that the main storyline within that series is completed, but I may still write one-shots within the storyline.

Feel free to comment and reblog anytime, even if the fics are older.

Please mind the tags, I place warnings on all of my fanfics. You are responsible for the content that you consume.

My Journey to You (ongoing series)

Summary | Joel Miller x F!Reader (Post Outbreak) For the past year Joel, Ellie, and you have been traveling and searching for Joel's brother, Tommy, who now is rumored to have settled in Jackson, Wyoming. Survival in the wilderness does not come easy, and neither does falling hard for Joel Miller. The question is, are you able to survive the journey?

Love Never Fails (ongoing series)

Summary | Joel Miller x F!Reader AU (no outbreak).  Joel has been your dad’s good friend, and a father figure to you, even though you two are only 15 years apart. One year you come home from college for a visit to find that everything in your life has changed, especially with moody old Mr. Miller. You soon realize that no matter what life throws at you there is only one rule, and that is: Love Never Fails. 

Marriage Dynamics (ongoing series)

Summary | Joel Miller x F!Reader AU (no outbreak). Joel and you are married and share in the typical husband and wife dynamics. You're trying to navigate married life with two kids, and another unplanned baby on the way while still navigating the waters of a rocky marriage. These stories are sometimes cute, funny, sexy, and sometimes hard arguments, hence true Marriage Dynamics. But it ends with a happy ending. (If you want to read these two's origin story, read the series Love Never Fails).

Mini Series

Too Young to Die (3 Part Mini Series) No Outbreak, AU -

Part 1 Part 2

Series Summary | Three years ago you were diagnosed with autoimmune disease, a disease that created havoc in your joints, muscles, and body with inflammation and pain. Now three years into your journey you get referred to Dr. Joel Miller, a massage specialist, to help manage your joint and muscle pain with your autoimmune disease.  What you didn’t know was that Dr. Miller was going to change your life, in every best possible way.

One Shots

Darlin' You're Beautiful - No Outbreak, AU, Joel x F!Reader:

You've been stood up again by another date from another guy. Joel (your best friend) takes you out to a park to cheer you up and reminds you (and himself) that you are beautiful.

Darkened Days Become Light - Post Outbreak, Joel x Ellie:

Joel looks back on the emotions that brought him to this moment 20 years later, the moment when his story was re-written. Life is a story, if you don’t like the outcome then re-write it to one that you do, and that’s what Joel Miller did.

Nursing - No Outbreak, AU, Husband Joel Miller x Wife F!Reader:

Your six-week-old daughter, Isabell, is fussy and won’t settle down enough to nurse from you.  Joel, being your soft and understanding husband (and an experienced father) soothes you and shows you how to relax. Who knew seeing Joel sing to Isabell, and whispering soft praises into your ear would help calm your fears at being a mom.

Lord of the Manor - No Outbreak, AU, Joel x F!Reader

Joel Miller is Lord of the Manor, and you are the woman who has been helping him for years in raising his two daughters. Joel, holding a matchmaking party, decides to dance with every maiden in the room, everyone but you. After seeing him do this, you are exhausted and jealous, so you leave the party early. Joel notices your absence and follows you down the dimly lit hallway, where you confess your feelings for him. It ends with him telling you he wants you in his bed.

Farewell Ballad - No Outbreak, AU, Husband Joel x F!Reader

Summary | Joel takes one final walk in the park before his spirit passes on. Written from Joel’s point of view.

Let's Make a Memory- No Outbreak, AU, Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary | Joel takes you out to a restaurant for the first time after knowing you for a long time and has sex with you in the bathroom. (Slight D/s dynamic vibes with this one).

Just A Man- No Outbreak, AU, Joel x F!Reader-- coming soon

Summary | Pleasure is a beautiful thing.  It makes someone feel wanted, desired and loved.  In the hands of the right person, it can make someone come alive, especially when you feel anything but.  Walk inside the mind of a man and woman as they obtain the best gift of all: pleasure from being seen. (Written from Joel's and F! Reader POV's).

Headcanon's

Wedding Anniversary - Joel Miller is on a tropical vacation with you celebrating your wedding anniversary where he takes control and has you go down on him on your private secluded beach

Wanting Someone to Care- Recently breaking up from your boyfriend you are staying at the Miller's household and you can't sleep. Joel invites you into his bed and he helps you relax by lazy bringing you to an orgasm.

[lululawrence]

Sus' 40 to 40 Countdown: 23 Days

Happy 28th! It seems quite perfect that today's theme is one I'm actually quite excited about and is going to include a lot of fics. Hopefully the layout I've chosen will make sense and not be too overwhelming! Here we go...

Fics That Belong To A Series

I Go Down Blazing, Feeling Like I'm Going Crazy - Niall/Rory McIlroy (soulmates, famous/famous, age difference, friends to lovers, song fics (based on Dear Patience and Bend the Rules))

Just Me and the Stars Can Get Lonely

The Way You Bend the Rules

Honey Series - multiple pairings (five fics all written based on the same prompt, which was a tweet about Rachmaninoff and Stravinsky lmao, most of which involve, awkwardness, embarrassment, pining, humor, fluff, and most importantly HONEY)

Oh Honey, Honey - Harry/Louis

A Taste of Honey - Greg James/Louis

Just Like Honey - Harry/Louis

Honey, Honey, How You Thrill Me - Greg James/Harry

Like Honey to the Bee - Nick Grimshaw/Louis

Wibbly Wobbly - Harry/Louis (canon divergent, parallel universes, time travel (kind of), friendship/love, friends to lovers, pining)

Back to How it Was

Nowhere to Land

The Long Way Home - Harry/Louis (based on poetry, abandonment, angst, with a happy ending, at least i think it's happy but it's also kind of, open ending, this is my super short angst filled series)

Come Back to Me

Winding Roads

In Time

Lookin' For A Good Time - Harry/Louis (pov: multiple, time jump, aroace characters, coming out, travel, self discovery, new beginnings, fate)

Listening to Intuition

Following the Good Vibes

All 40 to 40 Countdown Posts

[firenati0n]

wip wednesday <3 :)

hello friends :) happy wednesday, hope you are well! happiest of birthdays to my babygirl Alex Claremont-Diaz, love you endlessly my beautiful big brained bisexual disaster with a heart of gold

thank you to @jellibuns @junebugclaremontdiaz @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @piratefalls @bigassbowlingballhead @leojfitz @ships-to-sail @suseagull04 @dragonflylady77 @kiwiana-writes @onthewaytosomewhere @wordsofhoneydew @priincebutt @magicandarchery @leaves-of-laurelin @eusuntgratie @duchessdepolignaca03 @saturntheday @itsmaybitheway @captainjunglegym @indestructibleheart @oxfordslutphase @tailsbeth-writes for the tags this week and on sunday :)

here's a snip from a tiny spy au coming this week if i can wrangle these men into submission:

“I'm serious, Alex. No theatrics. Certainly no blood. What's the code for trouble?” “Barracuda.” Henry clicks his tongue. “Too many syllables for my taste.” “Your name is too many syllables for my taste, yet you don't see me complaining.” “Touché.” He grasps Alex's shoulder, taking a long look into Alex's eyes. Henry's body is serene, but his eyes are always his tell for Alex. They're cloudy, tense; murky waters. “Be careful, please. We both know how dangerous these men are. Manu is unpredictable, even as the mafia equivalent of a middle manager.” “Aw, worried about me, sweetheart?” Alex grins, but it's a little unsteady, faltering at the edges. “Henry. This is easy. And if I’m lucky, no dicks will have to come out.” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. He really, really doesn’t want any dicks out this time. “See you in five, okay?” He squeezes Henry's arm, then slips out of the supply closet. Back to work.

xoxo roop

+ no pressure tags below the cut and open tag as always <3 tag me if you use :)

@ninzied @cha-melodius @sparklepocalypse @cricketnationrise @orchidscript @getmehighonmagic @myheartalivewrites @welcometololaland @anincompletelist @nocoastposts @tintagel-or-cockleshells @sherryvalli @lizzie-bennetdarcy @heysweetheart-writes @inexplicablymine @onward--upward @celeritas2997 @affectionatelyrs @14carrotghoul @rmd-writes @cultofsappho @anchoredarchangel @candyspandemonium @porcelainmortal @kj-bee @nontoxic-writes

[ragnarokhound]

For the au ask game!

OKAY I wanted specifically to get to the pokemon au from the ask you sent, it's been cooking a bit so it's time to see what comes out of the oven, so... @azol-otl ty for the ask!

Crossover au's are all about the fused worldbuilding for me and speculating on how characters from universe A would fit into universe B heehee hoohoo - and for Batfam especially it's fun to think about the equivalent of their roles as vigilantes! What kind of people have the same level of celebrity, the same sideways seeking of justice?

Naturally this leads you to the gym leaders because a) it's the most fun and b) they are like. Quasi-law enforcement/educators/professional athletes depending on how you try to translate the innate child's perspective on the pokemon universe into something that makes sense as an adult lol ilu pokemon. [insert 'compels me though' gif here]

SO with this in mind, here's 5 fun facts (that are mostly backstory lmao) from a jaytim pokemon au I would write

I'm deeply ill about pokemon so this one goes under the cut lol:

Jason Todd used to be the Champion. He won the role after Dick Grayson quit a year or two before (Dick had been getting older and chafing under the League rules - meaning he'd been chafing under how Bruce ran the League) and was a fierce competitor who didn't believe in going easy on anyone. His Houndoom was a force to be reckoned with, and despite running a mostly Dark-type team, his Honchkrow cleaned up anyone thinking their Fighting-types could sweep. He looked after the League and Gotham with a cocky, self-assured attitude and the win record to back it up. .

Jason disappeared suddenly at the age of 15. Many assumed him dead, after a Rocket (Or whatever Gotham themed gang name we want to go with lol could be Team Joker) bombing in the area he'd last been seen, but he's officially declared missing. Bruce Wayne took back the duties of interim Champion as he once did for Dick Grayson, but he's not quite the mentor he once was. It's obvious he's grieving, and that he doesn't want to mentor any more twelve year olds. Dick signed up to be a Gym Leader shortly after this, returning from his trip about a year early to help out in the chaos following Jason's disappearance. .

Enter Tim Drake. Tim's gym challenge wasn't all that interesting in the circuit at first; he had a rocky start and had to retake a few gym challenges. He wasn't exactly sweeping on his first try every time like Jason had done. He didn't have the meteoric rise that caught the Champion's attention early, didn't get one-on-one mentorship or face-to-face meetings, cautionary advice and congratulations all rolled into one from Bruce Wayne himself - but Tim had patience and grit, and he paid attention. He was gunning for the Championship, and it wasn't just so he could prove himself. Team Rocket/Joker was still out there, and Bruce needed all the help he could get. He was always better for Gotham when he had a Robin. .

Dick had been nicknamed Robin for his all-Flying-type team and especially his Natu-then-Xatu; Jason followed up with his Murkrow-then-Honchkrow; Tim's Rookidee was one among many (Robin-esque pokemon were popularized by Dick and the trend remains through Tim's day) so he wasn't considered a possible Robin successor until it was a Corvisquire and he was about to face Dick Grayson himself, a badge away from Victory Road. By then, Tim and his team were a well-oiled machine (he runs mostly Steel-types lol but also Normal-types for the unexpected adaptability and the 'underestimate my rattata i dare you it's in the top peRCENTAGE--' of it all. FEAR.), and his loss-record had all but frozen while his win-record ticked higher and higher. .

Shit finally goes down about three years after Tim has become Champion and all but bullied Bruce into mentoring him (he basically said 'if you don't watch me, i'll go find Team Rocket/Joker on my own' and triggers all of Bruce's child endangerment traumas simultaneously) and the mysterious Rocket/Joker leader Red Hood shows up, bringing the gang out of the shadows in pursuit of a hidden agenda. Identity shenanigans and "wait is that a Houndoom? But he's only been using Ghost-types, it CAN'T be..." and heel-face turns abound. .

(BONUS FACT: Something something, Jason went into deep cover with Looker or whoever he is, that Interpol guy from X & Y (WAIT. LOOKER MIGHT ACTUALLY BE TALIA AL GHUL IN THIS AU HOHOHO), infiltrating the Rocket/Joker gang and going public as Red Hood is the first step in the last phase of the sting. Cue a million tense Jaytim interactions in which Tim is legitimately trying to take Red Hood down and Jason desperately tries to shake him so that he doesn't do anything that forces Jason to blow his cover. There is at least one 'tugged into a tight space to hide them both from the actual bad guys, "wait, did you just HELP me...?" "Think whatever you want, babybird"' interaction because I am a slut for the first sprinkles of a redemption arc that is rife with UST fufufu)

[baeshijima]

bitches will still be crying over the high-cloud quintet at 2 am months later and never get over them

its me. im bitches.

[christanbrowneyedgirl]

That one scene from Peace is a Journey by @tenspontaneite where the gang is quietly grieving together.

[fag4dykestobin]

i kind of sat down and thought about steve and robin cooking together, and then i entered a fugue state and came out of it with a little over 1.7k words written about them being domestic besties (domesties?). so um. enjoy :)

-

Robin has destroyed one of her mom’s pans again, so she’s been banished to Steve’s house.

Well, okay, let’s back up.

Robin, waking up and feeling especially productive, had taken it upon herself to make some scrambled eggs. Nice and simple, right? So she had grabbed the first spatula and pan she could find, and… scrambled those eggs! She even remembered the salt and pepper! Unfortunately, as Robin had remembered after she oh-so-lovingly scraped off the nonstick coating, metal utensils and nonstick pans didn’t really get along. Oops. Panicking, she had scraped her mess into the trash and called Steve to pick her up. So, really, she had banished herself, preemptively.

“How the hell did you even do this much damage?” Steve asks, holding up the pan. The look of befuddlement on his face is picture perfect; you could teach children how to identify emotions with that face. Robin would pinch his cheek if she wasn’t so embarrassed.

“I don’t know! I just tried to make some eggs!”

“Rob, there’s like, a solid cube of—”

“A cube is a 3D object, dingus.”

“This is a 3D object!”

“Not in that way! It’s not a cube! You mean a square!”

Steve throws up his hands, one of them brandishing the pan and waving it around. “Fine! There’s a solid square…” Steve gives Robin a look. She nods her head at him in acquiescence. “... Of coating rubbed off of this thing. Why were you punishing your eggs like that?”

Robin leans back on the counter she’s been sitting on, legs swinging. Her heel hits the cabinet once, and Steve’s eye twitches, but he says nothing. Because he loves her. But she tries to avoid doing it again, for his sake. “I had to get that yolk distributed! I was working fast, Evie, the burner was on and I wanted it evenly mixed—!”

“So why didn’t you mix it in a bowl before that?!” Steve looks so stressed. It's kind of funny, given how unimportant the subject matter is. Robin suppresses a grin.

“I forgot! I was groggy!”

Steve groans, setting the ruined pan down and rubbing a hand over his face. “... When we move in together,” he says, pointing an accusatory finger at Robin, “I am keeping my metal utensils in a locked safe.”

The warm, fuzzy feeling that always appears when Robin is reminded of their future together, their permanence in each other’s lives, it fizzes and pops in her chest like a sparkler. It’s still such a comforting feeling, even after all these months.

It doesn’t stop her from antagonizing him a little. “Like I don’t know what combination you’ll set it to,” she scoffs.  “I could just break in. To spite you.”

Steve sits with that for a moment. “You’re breaking my heart, Robbie, you know that? You break my heart.” Not a real comeback. She’s won their battle of the bits, this time around.

“Well, anyway,” Steve continues, “I am really hoping you didn’t eat those eggs after seasoning them with metal filings.”

“It wasn’t— I don’t think the coating is metal. I don’t know what it is, actually, but I don’t think it falls under metal filings.”

Steve hmms. “Well, it’s not, like, plastic, right? Or silicone? That would just melt.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Well, it can’t be metal, because it loses a fight with metal spatulas.”

Steve thinks for a second. “Is… God, I mean, I guess there are other, other uh… what’s the word? For, like, not from plants?” Robin scrunches her brow in thought. “Synthetic? Inorganic?”

Steve snaps his fingers. “Yeah, both of those work. There’s probably things that aren’t plastic or metal that can be used to cook with, but it feels weird. That there’s another category out there.”

Robin nods in agreement, and they sit in companionable silence for a moment, contemplating on the nature of cookware.

“Anyway, no, I still haven’t eaten.”

Steve curses, gets up from leaning on his kitchen island, and steps over to the cabinets where he keeps his pots and pans. “Yes, God, okay, let me feed you. Still want eggs?”

“You know it!” Robin says, and Steve gets to cooking, bustling around the kitchen with practiced motions. It’s nice to watch him cook. He gets very focused, in a way that doesn’t usually come naturally to him. Steve doesn’t usually like talking while he’s cooking, but he hums bits of songs, bobs his head to the beat.

In no time at all he has a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of Robin, and she hops off the counter to sit at a stool at the kitchen island. She grabs the plate from Steve and smacks a wet kiss on his cheek, making him roll his eyes with a smile and subtly wipe her spit off.

Steve takes a seat across from her, and she notices that he doesn’t have anything. Did he already eat? “Did you already eat?” Robin asks.

Steve blinks. “Oh. No, I forgot.” He has a tendency to do that; when he cooks for someone, he can get so caught up in it that he forgets to make some for himself, and is left to scramble afterwards. “I’ll make myself some eggs after you’re done.”

An idea comes to mind. An attempt at redemption, maybe. “Let me?” Robin asks.

“And let you ruin my pans? No thanks.”

A flash of genuine hurt passes through Robin, and she lets it show on her face in the form of a pout. The comment isn’t unfounded, but… “No, please! I know what I did wrong, I’ll do better this time. I’m not sleepy anymore, either.” She just wants to take care of Steve like he takes care of her. She wants to feed him eggs, goddamnit! When was the last time anyone fed him eggs? Actually, if she thinks about that one, she’ll get sad, so she stops thinking about it.

Steve can obviously see her earnestness, and he softens. And rolls his eyes. But that’s just him being Steve, so Robin loves it. “Whatever you want, Birdie. Just don’t burn them. Oh, and use garlic powder.”

So Robin practically inhales the rest of her eggs and toast (very tasty, as always) and gets to work. Steve sits at his stool at the island, trying and failing not to watch Robin like a hawk as she bumbles around his kitchen (“That’s not enough garlic powder, Rob, put some more in there, it won’t bite!”  and “Use the small pan on the top shelf— no, the other small pan. No, the other—”), but she does eventually get a plate of eggs and toast in front of him. Not as good looking as the one Steve presented her, but it smelled good, and didn’t have weird inorganic pan flecks in them. Steve gives her a sloppy kiss on her cheek this time, over-exaggerating and putting way too much saliva in it, seriously, was he a dog or something? Robin BLECH’d and rubbed at her cheek, but he looked happy at his plate of food, so. Overall success, even if sacrifices had to be made.

Robin leaned on the island on her elbows, face a foot away from Steve’s as he picked up a forkful of egg. He side-eyed her.

“Do you… want some…?”

Robin waved a hand at him. “No, dingus. Eat it! Do you like it?”

“Okay, okay!” Steve rolled his eyes and ate his forkful. Robin stared at him as he chewed, looking out for emotions such as delight and wonder, but also disgust and revulsion.

She found nothing. Steve looked normal. He ate another forkful, eyeing her.

“So?” Robin prods.

“They’re eggs?” Steve says, mouth still half full.

“Swallow!” Steve rolls his eyes and does as she asks. “Nothing else? They’re just eggs?”

Steve nods, shrugging a little. Robin feels a little let-down. The first time Steve had made her eggs, it was life-changing. He put heavy cream in them. Robin doesn’t think her parents had ever bought heavy cream in their lives.

Robin guesses that it makes sense, though. This is just how he makes eggs, duh. Still, it makes her feel kind of bad, that she couldn’t give Steve the same feeling he gave her.

Steve seems to sense her inner turmoil. “They’re— it’s good, though! You did a good job. I do like it.” He seems kind of… embarrassed, but grateful. “You didn’t have to make them for me. Thanks.”

Robin bumps his shoulder with her own, and then retreats to her seat, allowing him a bit more personal space. But not too much! She kicks at his shins, and he kicks back, a smile on his face.

Cleanup is easy as Steve washes the dishes and Robin dries. It’s the small, domestic things, like this, that make her so excited to eventually live together. It’s so easy and companionable, full of chatter about band practice and Dustin’s latest science experiment. She can’t wait to graduate.

After the dishes, though, they’re both at the kitchen island again, silently staring at the pan Robin had ruined at her house earlier.

“... It seems like a waste to throw away,” Robin complains.

“I know, right? But it’s, like, useless now.”

Robin hums. “I mean, no, it’s still like… metal. I feel like we should be melting it down.”

Steve stares at her. “In what world would it be more useful melted down?”

Robin squawks, indignant at her idea being challenged. “You know what I mean!”

“No I don’t! Do you just want a, a… what’s the word? A bar of metal.”

“Ingot.”

“Do you just want an ingot hanging out on our mantelpiece?!”

“Well, I didn’t before, but now I do!”

They look at each other for only a moment before dissolving into simultaneous giggles, shared joy crackling and leaping between them.

Steve settles down first. Still grinning, he turns to put the pan at the very top of a relatively bare cupboard. “Fine, we’ll just… keep this to be melted down later.”

Robin can’t do anything to stop the twin grin on her face, not that she would ever want to. “I love you, Evie.” The words come easy, and the delight and surprise on Steve’s face is as wonderful as always. He pulls her into a hug.

“I love you too, Rob.”

[atzfilm]

— clair de lune. (m) - finale

genre; yandere, vampire!au, reincarnation! au angst, smut

pairing; ot8/f.reader, 21.2k~

warnings; major character death, manipulation, explicit scenes, murder, blood, smut (dubious), gaslighting, prior abuse/assault mentioned, knives, wounds, mass murder mention, blood exchanging, lying, mass delusions

summary; you’ve finally gotten the chance to enter “clair de lune”, a infamous nightclub to see the band hiraeth. but why did you feel like their eyes only watched you?

note: this fic deals with the subject of yandere. with that being said, a lot of the things happening in this fiction will be manipulation, gaslighting, and various other techniques displayed by the characters. if you are not comfortable with that, please do not read.

thank you to my best friend @hongism rereading for me .. <3

Chapter 8:

“He brought her to where Yeosang is,” Yunho says softly, watching his friend pace back and forth. Endearing how worried he seems to be, though they all know the likely end of this. You will never be convinced to become one of them, and their time is slowly ticking down. Yunho himself wouldn’t mind turning you now, so that he may deal with the decades of anger sooner rather than later. The others, excluding Wooyoung, not so much. Especially Song Mingi, biting his lip as he ponders his thoughts.

Though Mingi showed a tough facade to you in the beginning, he has always been softer. Blunt, sure, but his worry seems to supersede everyone else’s. There was a time that it burdened him too heavily for any of the others to pull him out, Yunho barely succeeding at doing so. Seeing him close to what he was like before does bother Yunho, but there is surely some way out of this situation.

“You’re letting this worry you too much, Mingi,” Yunho says, flipping through another page of his comic. He snorts at the dialogue. His gaze moved to Mingi’s feet, seeming to burn a path into the hardwood. Despite wanting to finish the book - he’s lingered on the same chapter for a while - he places it to the side, trying to meet the eyes of his best friend. “Hongjoong won’t let her be hurt.”

“Yeosang gets into these sprees when he’s too overwhelmed. I’m worried he won’t see y/n when he’s there. There's a chance–"

“Nonsense,” Yunho waves him off. “He’ll smell her before anything else. Might pull him out of his rage.”

“Might is not definitive.”

“She will pull him out of it, all right? Mingi, don’t let this affect you so much.”

Mingi closes his eyes for a moment, thinking. “It’s as if everyone else can worry but me. Don’t look at me like that. Nothing will happen this time, not like before.”

Though Yunho doesn’t respond, that only seems to fuel Mingi further. He slowly starts his pacing again, fingers digging into the palms of his hands. It’s not enough to break skin, no, but Yunho watches as he begins to lose himself in his thoughts. Interrupting will only worsen the situation so instead, he waits for him to understand his thoughts, to think it through before saying something. Mingi stops, looking back at Yunho.

“Could Yeosang have been right this whole time?”

“Min…”

“I know,” he holds up his hand. “I know that he’s stuck in his head just like I am. But should we just dismiss his thoughts? Should we let ourselves go through all of this again? She’s died once before Yunho, and it feels like it’ll happen sooner rather than later. We’re taking the same path.”

“We’re not. We aren’t even pirates this time. It’s different, Mingi,” Yunho sighs, rubbing his face. “I haven’t shoved blood down her throat. And I doubt any of us will.”

“You’re not listening to me-“

“What do you want me to say?!” His voice rises as he stands from the couch. “Tell you that I’d rather live another one hundred torturous years than force her to turn? Because that’s not what I want, and I know that’s not what you want either. We don’t want her to die. But if we let her live a full life without attempting to turn her, we all will suffer without her being around.”

“But what if that's what she wants?"

Yunho narrows his eyes. “What?”

“Why are we so selfish to force our ideals when it’s not what she desires? Yeosang has been a shell of himself ever since he turned. Why do we assume that she will be the same as she is now? In fact,” his gaze is glued to the floor. “If she is the same, turning her will only exemplify her emotions. Her hate toward us will turn into pure abhorment.”

“Waiting hundreds of years knowing she’s alive is better than letting her life cycle restart.”

He holds in his horror at his words. Mingi knew that Rose's death affected Yunho horribly, especially knowing that he was the one that forced her to murder in the beginning. But speaking of you as if you're not your own person? Mingi decides it is best to no longer try and convince his friend. “You’re right,” he lets the lie slip through his anger. “We cannot endure this again, can we?”

“Have you not seen us?” Yunho snorts, slowly sinking back into the cushions. “Our self-torture can only go on but so far. It will be all fine in the end, Min. Don’t worry about it.”

“I won’t.”

-

You’re not safe.

Hongjoong drags you through the front door, ignoring how you try to fight against his hold. It almost seems amusing to him, the slight smirk upon his lips, quirk of his brow. Enjoyment encasing his features. As if he finally has you and won’t let you go.

Your head is clearer now, absolute. Despite how kind any of them are – including Seonghwa, Yeosang, Mingi – they will never let you leave. It’s almost humorous to even think that they would have; each time you stepped a foot out of their gaze it was like you committed a felony. How unwise of you not to notice it sooner. It scares you how easily they’ve dug themselves into every part of your life - taking your home away, your friends. You’re sure there was influence on you applying for employment as well. Taking every escape away from you, keeping you to themselves.

“She will learn her place,” Hongjoong says, the grip on your arm so tight it feels as if he’ll pull it right from its socket. No matter how hard you tug he seems to ignore it, walking calmly pass the other men in the living area. The absence of Yeosang and Mingi is blatantly obvious, but you no longer have the will to ponder it. San and Wooyoung silently look on, quickly averting their gaze when you look at them. Yunho doesn’t, expression blank as he stares. Jongho, of course, does not bother facing you at all.

Seonghwa looks at you with pain. It’s sad how you no longer believe it to be real. Or at the very least, not for you. For the person's soul you've taken.

“We spoke about this, Joong,” Seonghwa starts, following close behind. “We said it would be different this time.”

He only scoffs, ignoring your screaming as he turns a corner. “What will we do then? Let her go on her merry way? You know that’s not possible now.”

“It is not now because you made it so,” he hisses, the two of them stopping in front of your door. Seonghwa crouches down, head tilted as he gazes upon you. All you can see is pity, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek. You flinch as he cups it, turning your head to meet his gaze. “It’s only for a few days. Just so that you get this out of your system, alright? We wouldn’t need to prolong it if there’s cooperation.”

“Fuck you,” you jeer.

"See?" Hongjoong seems to only sigh louder, pushing the door open and almost throwing you inside. You hold your head from hitting the floor, sliding across to the opposite side of the room. You struggle to lift yourself from the floor, body aching from the throw. You glance down at your hands, the blood from the dead in the restaurant dyed on your hands. You wipe them quickly, chest rising and falling.

There were so many dead. So many lives lost. You don’t notice how Seonghwa looks at you, wanting to step in and pull you out of your thoughts. He shuts his eyes for a moment, looking at his leader.

“Hongjoong.“

He holds up his hand. “She’ll learn her lesson soon enough. A few days of isolation will do wonders. Right, my sea?”

You don’t dare meet his gaze, nor try to run out the door. It’ll be foolish in the end, there’s eight of them and one of you. Why didn’t you listen to their advice?

Why didn’t you end it where it began?

-

It feels as if it’s spring outside; the window cracked just a bit for you to feel the warm breeze rush through. Vastly different from just a few days ago – the windchill almost suffocating, curtains closed as you tucked yourself beneath the blankets. You finally look away from the window when you see one of them appear, slowly making your way back into the cold sheets. Siyoon’s phone disappearing from the drawer only confirms your suspicions. If they are as guiltless as they make themselves out to be, it would still reside inside. Nothing sharp enough to hurt yourself with lying out and about. One of them searched your room when you left with Hongjoong. Now you’ll never know what happened to her. If she even survived her encounter with them.

The night Hongjoong dragged you back into this room is one you cannot forget. The pleas spilling from your lips as you begged for them to let you go, banging on the door. The sympathetic looks they gave you. As if you were the unstable one. As if all of this is your fault. Even Wooyoung, as guilty as he may be, gazed upon you with sympathy, an understanding nod as Hongjoong dragged you back inside, locking the door behind him. It's one of the last times you’ve seen him, and it’s been over a week since.

The first few nights were torture. They sealed your bedroom window, leaving it only open a crack for a bit of fresh air. The windows were coated with some sort of frost, hiding the outside world from your view. It only cemented the fact that no matter what you do or say, you’ll still be stuck in this room at the end of the day.

Now there’s nothing that could change your mind; Rose left for a reason. It wouldn’t surprise you if the two of you ended up in similar situations. Though she was stuck on a ship, and you are stuck in their home.

At least there’s the slightest chance that you can run.

“Your food is getting cold.”

Yunho stands at the door, hands tucked in pockets. He gives you a smile. You don’t have the energy to even pretend to care, shifting your gaze back to the frosted windows.

“No talking now?”

“Let me go.”

“Ah,” Though he speaks to your back, you can hear him run his fingers through his hair. “Eat and then we’ll talk about leaving.”

You roll your eyes, shifting your body to turn to him, “I should have noticed your lies from the beginning. It just comes so easily to you. What are you going to say next? I’m allowed to get some fresh air if I take a bite?”

His grin sticks, “Of course.”

“Go away, Yunho.”

“None of us want you stuck in this room, y/n,” he moves closer to the bed. You tense up immediately at his steps, eyes flicking to his hands. He holds them up in surrender, slowly sitting on the small stool. “We said it’d be temporary and we weren’t lying about that. If you want, you can sit outside and eat. I know you’re tired of looking out that window.” He gestures, dropping his hands. “We never wanted you to feel like a prisoner.”

“What a joke.”

“None of this would have happened if you cooperated,” he shrugs. “So, you want to go out or not?”

“If I say no?”

“Another week, unfortunately,” he frowns.

You slowly sit up, body numb from not moving for several hours. Yunho reaches out to steady you but you shift from his hand, shaking your head. They’ve hidden a lot from you; letting Yunho touch you is not the plan. You’d probably be put under some sort of spell. Of course, your imagination is very much working overtime, but months ago you wouldn’t have guessed that there was an underground vampire band that used to be pirates so consumed by their grief that they latch on to the reincarnation of their former lover.

Saying it in your head makes it even more unbelievable.

“You’re all sick, you know that right?” You murmur, sliding into your slippers. He doesn’t say anything, watching as you make your way to the plate of food. He takes it just as you’re about to grab it. “Yunho.”

“We’re going outside. You’re looking sickly without any sunshine, you should open the curtains a bit more. Light isn’t your enemy.” He steps to the side, gesturing to the open doorway. You’re not sure why the sight makes your anxiety start to rise. But you leave anyway, Yunho close behind you. The hallways are quiet as you step through the home. The back door is already ajar. You can see others just outside. One in particular stands out amongst the rest, sitting idly by the door. You still, causing Yunho to bump slightly into you as you do.

“I want to go back.”

“No.”

“Yunho–”

“I know there’s still a backbone in there somewhere, pretty,” he whispers, “Use it.” He pushes you slightly, forcing you to step further to the outside.

You stumble as you walk through the doors, desperately trying to calm your heart down enough. How have they beaten you down to the point where you cannot function properly around them? One man shouldn’t terrify you so much. You ignore his eyes, feeling them trail after you as you quickly make your way to the bench after slipping into your outdoor shoes, leaving the others to the side. The last time you were here, you enjoyed your time with Jongho. The memory is happy enough to ease your heart slightly, slow breaths escaping you. You sit down, Yunho placing the plate on a small table in front of you, a water bottle adjacent.

“See? Not so bad,” he pats the table, stretching. “I have to run out, but the others will keep you entertained enough. See you later, pretty.”

“Wait-”

He turns and walks before you can say another word. Your fists rest upon your thighs, gaze glued to the plate in front of you. From the quick glances before, you spotted Hongjoong, San, and Wooyoung lingering outside. Your body is too exhausted to think about where the others may be. The sun is bright today, hot against your skin as you slowly take a bite of the food. Your eyes move to the side, San and Wooyoung leaving promptly. You grip your plate, staring at the chest of the man who slowly makes his way over to you. Fear is what drives you now, looking in his eyes too much for you. All you can think of is the way he grinned as blood coated his hands and clothing, the way he laughed as he threw you into the room.

"Nice to see you after a few days, my sea," he sits on the grass in front of you, keeping enough distance for you to calm down slightly. You look back at the plate, unable to respond. "Nothing to say to me?"

"No."

He slowly drops his body against the lawn, hands resting behind his head. You inadvertently look at his face. The same sly smirk rests against his lips, brows lifting quickly when you finally look at his eyes.

You take another bite.

"Have you slept?"

"How could I when I'm in a house with people who want to kill me?" You say, teeth clenched.

"Being a vampire isn't killing you, y/n. It's another life. Extending your human one beyond what you can think of. It's a gift."

"It's a curse," you whisper. "Humans shouldn't live that long."

"Once you turn you're no longer human, so that doesn't really matter, does it?"

You place your chopsticks down, taking a slow breath. There's no use in speaking to him about it. He's lived long enough to twist your words. make it fit into his. And the other you’s probably had this same exact conversation with him dozens of times. “And then what comes after? Eternal suffering?”

“After turning? Anything you desire. You’ll have the world at your feet, just as we do.”

“It must be quite easy for you to assume,” you note, tucking your knees further into your chest. “Assuming that I will decide to live with you for however long I will be ‘alive’–“ you motion quotes with your fingers– “It’s a bit presumptuous to believe that I will never leave your side. And forcing me to will only work for so long. There will be a point when I decide that I’m sick of it and run.”

“You have yet to run though,” Hongjoong shrugs, gesturing to the gate. “It's been open for quite a while now but you lack an attempt to make a run for it.”

Scoffing seems to only lessen the impact of his words. What if you were to make a run for it? You doubt they would let you out of their sight for a moment. You can only think back to when Seonghwa let you go in that supermarket. You’re sure that everything would be in a different shape if you never arrived back home. What if… what if you didn’t show back up? Seonghwa gave you the out. The perfume that hides your smell, pheromones. You had the chance and you didn’t even take it.

Has there ever been a moment where you would have?

“Will you chase after me?”

He only smiles.

“Then what’s the point of me running? I doubt I’d get over the threshold without one of you stopping me.”

“Have you lost your drive to survive?” he raises a brow. “Or have you settled? The sea that I know wouldn’t allow us to keep her here without at least attempting to fight for it. It is only saddening to look at.” Despite his words his grin only seems to widen as he watches you. He’s desired this. He's always yearned for you to be subdued, underneath his fervent whims. Abiding by them only worsens the situation. But you cannot imagine yourself not giving up, fighting through it. You’ve tired yourself out over this year of meeting them. Who knew that the snarky woman at Clair de Lune would allow herself to be broken down into this empty shell? You know now that Rose wouldn’t have settled. She would have probably taken her life long ago.

It’s strange that you have yet to consider that path yourself.

“Who turned her?”

“Excuse me?” He’s mocking you now. "Couldn't quite hear you."

"Who turned Rose, Hongjoong? Which one of you did it?"

"Why do you care? Do you want to reenact it again? I wouldn't mind it, sure. But that's a bit strange even for you."

Oh. Fuck you.

“Wooyoung insists that it wasn’t him,” you start, knowing that this conversation could easily be turned on you. “And I believe him. But what I don’t understand is why her death is being hidden from me. What’s there to hide if she killed herself as you all have said? If it’s true, you could talk about it. If it’s true, you wouldn’t hide it from me.”

“Who are you to tell us what we’re thinking?” Though he still has the teasing grin on his lips, his eyes shifted, more narrowed. “Would it make you sleep better at night, knowing what truly happened to her? Would it change your mind about us, make you see us in a different light? Because as I see right now, you’re completely terrified of being in the same room as us. Pouring gasoline on the fire isn’t going to put it out.”

Though he doesn’t admit it blatantly, you can read between the lines. It’s true; Wooyoung didn’t kill her. He killed Yeosang, yes. But not Rose. And from what you know thus far Hongjoong wouldn’t hesitate to tell you it was him or Yeosang. He’d probably do it on purpose to make you fall deeper into yourself. But why hide it?

What would he gain?

Hongjoong stands, brushing off the strands of grass from his slacks. “I’d love to play with you some more, but we have a show. Mingi is somewhere around to entertain you whenever you decide to leave this spot. See you later, sea.” He waves slightly, leaving you alone outside. You glance at the open gate. There’s no one around that you can see but you know they’re watching. Waiting for you to take a step to it. You close your eyes for a moment, letting out a long breath.

Are you truly stuck here?

-

There seemed to be silent agreement amongst the men. Averted gazes, stepping out of the room when you enter. Even Wooyoung, as boisterous as he is, avoids you as you walk down the hallways. The feeling is eerie; watchful eyes at every corner, behind every door. The freedom to roam only makes you feel more trapped. More secluded. You wonder if this was their captain’s plan all along.

Your grip on the ceramic cup Mingi slides to you is tight. Lips firm. It’s strange how alone you feel in a house filled with people.

“Are you all right?” Mingi keeps his distance, leaning against the far wall. There’s a bit of a frown on his lips. He’s never shown you mock concern, but that was before you were forced into these walls. Now you don’t think your read of their expressions is accurate at all. “y/n?”

“Fine,” you remain tight lipped, placing your cup on the counter. You lift the coffee pot, slowly pouring it. You pretend not to notice the knives sitting on the countertop, only an arm’s reach away. “As fine as I can be while being kidnapped.”

You wait for him to excuse their behavior, say something along the lines of It’s not like that, we love you. A part of you hopes he does so you can tear apart the argument piece by piece. Instead, he nods solemnly, a sigh breaking the silence.

“It’s inexcusable.”

That makes you stop for a moment and turn to him. He sends you a closed-lipped smile, shrugging.

“There’s not much else I can say but that.”

“Shocked you’re not begging on your knees for me to forgive you,” you admit, placing the pot back down. The warmth causes a shutter through you, hands cupping the coffee. “Or telling me to go see Hongjoong.” Hongjoong told you just before he left that if you wanted to know details, you could just ask him. Alone, of course. Exactly the one thing you'd never do.

He laughs dryly then, “Would you even agree to it?”

“Hell no.”

“Then there’s no use in me even asking.”

“What’s up with you, Mingi?” Though the question is reasonable, there’s layers to it. He’s been off ever since that day the two of you were taken and kept in Subin’s home, or whatever it was. The day that he found out you were slowly being poisoned. It’s as if something shifted with him. Sure, he was annoyed with you in the beginning and it drifted to a fondness. But nothing this odd. He looks as if he’s in neverending pain.

Wait.

No. You’re not about to do this. There’s no reason to be worried for him. Feeling sympathy toward a person who is holding you against your will isn’t smart.

He shakes his head slowly, “I just, I worry for you. I know you won’t believe my words because I’ve broken your trust, but I am scared.”

“Of?”

“What we are doing to you,” his voice is low, eyes widening as he says it. His pupils tremble as they stare at you, full of aversion and panic. “I’m afraid of the past continuing to repeat. It’s frightening how similar it is.“

“You say that and yet here I stand across from you, unable to leave while you look at me with pity. I’ve got to say, Mingi, you almost fooled me.” You snort, ignoring the way your heart pounds. He can hear it, you’re sure of it.

“They’re not home,” he starts. “I’m the only one here.”

“So?”

“I’m the only one here,” he repeats.

You still, gaze moving back to him. “You would let me go?”

“You wouldn’t get far.”

“Mingi, you would let me leave right now?”

Though there is pain in his eyes, he nods. “I’d do anything for you. But you have to hurry, y/n. They’re—”

You don’t let him finish, dropping the cup from your hands and turning down the hallway. There’s no time to grab anything but your bag that hangs by the door. Just as you swing the door open, you meet the eyes of Jeong Yunho. His widens briefly before sighing, running his fingers through his hair.

“Didn’t I tell them that Mingi shouldn’t be home alone with you?” He steps inside, stepping around you. You don’t bother exiting the house, the others slowly making their way up the path. “Running away at the slightest chance. I told them this would happen. They were all worried about Seonghwa when we should have been watching Mingi.”

Mingi swallows slowly, looking at you with sympathy. The others enter the home, talking amongst each other as they step around you. They all wear their outfits from the show, not bothering to clean off the blood of their victims. Most are stained, except Jongho. And again, Yeosang is nowhere to be found. You doubt you’ll ever see him again after what you’ve witnessed. Hongjoong is the last to enter, slowly closing the door behind him. He closes his eyes for a moment, rubbing the space above his brows.

“What was the end goal, my sea?” He asks, turning to you. “Where were you going to go?”

“Hongjoong—”

“Ah,” he holds up his hand, stopping you just as you begin to speak. “Better that I not know so I don’t mess up your little plans, right?” His smile drops when he looks at Mingi, eyes narrowed. “You said you would watch her.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t think she would run—”

“A foolish thought. An even foolisher one that you would let her.” Hongjoong interrupts, eyes flicking to yours. “Yeosang would be hurt that you’d just run away, you know.”

“I don’t care what he thinks.”

“Is that so?” His brow lifts. “Then what about Mingi? Seonghwa? Jongho? You would leave us all without blinking?”

“This is not a life, Hongjoong!” Your voice rises, throwing your hands in the air. “What do you expect me to do? Just sit here and take it? Let you turn me into whatever you want? Generations of my soul didn’t want it, Joong. I myself don’t want it either. I just want to go home.” You can feel your breath quickening, heart beating against your chest. “Why won’t you let me go home?”

“What home, y/n? Your apartment is gone. Or are you speaking of your family? Parents? Oh my beautiful sea,” he tsks, shaking his head. “They don’t want you. They’ve never wanted you.”

“Stop,” you shake your head. “I won’t listen to you.”

He takes another step to you, forcing you to shrink into the corner of the room. The others do nothing to stop him. “You know it yourself. That’s why you ran to Seoul. Because they didn’t want you, remember? You begged for them to listen to your dreams, to accept you as you are. But they disowned you, told you that they were no longer your parents. You pleaded over and over but they only forced you out with one suitcase, and barely one thousand won. Pretending it didn’t happen doesn’t stop it from being true,” he places his hand on your cheek, pressing his lips against your forehead. They feel abnormally hot on your skin. “We’re your family now, y/n. We’ll take care of you.”

No. They didn’t… did they? Your memories begin to jumble. And just as clear as day, you remember the way your father shouted at you, telling you to leave. How you cried, falling to your knees. That’s not true, no. He loved you. He… hated you.

“I’m sorry Rose, it’ll be quick okay? Really quick, I will not let you suffer.” Jongho pushes his hand against your mouth as Rose–you, cry out. Your hands grip his arms, gagging as you accidentally swallow his blood. He pulls away, letting you fall to the wooden boards. You cough, desperate to get it out of your body. Realizing that you cannot, you try to stand, only for him to stand above you, holding a silver knife. His eyes are wide. He is smiling. Smiling as he stands over your body. You've never seen him this terrifying before. You try to speak, gagging at the blood in your mouth.

“It’ll be quick, Rose.” He brings it against your neck as you gasp, your screaming cut off. You feel it sink into your skin, gripping it tightly. Hongjoong moves around him, crouching next to you. His eyes flick over yours, ubiquitous glee radiating from his gaze. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead as the pain consumes you.

"y/n! Are you there? Can you hear me?" Jongho’s grip on you is tight. shaking your body over and over again.

Your hands grab his, pushing them off. He looks confused as he moves closer to you, but you cry out, backing up against the wall. The others look at you with worry, Hongjoong conveniently no longer in the room. You touch your face, wincing as your fingers brush against the cuts. When did they appear on your skin? Your eyes flick to Jongho, remembering. He killed you, her. Jongho was the one who did it.

It was never Wooyoung.

You fall to your knees, feeling him quickly move to touch you. "Get the fuck away from me!" Your head whips around, glaring. "Do not touch me, Jongho."

"y/n, I know a lot is happening right now—"

"You," your legs push you farther into the corner, eyes swelling with tears. "It was you all along. I thought it was Wooyoung, I blamed him but it was you. It was always you." The tremors through your body seem to only rise as you push through the thoughts. Your head throbs, eyes shut. "You killed her."

"Please just let me explain."

You shake your head, slowly standing. "She… you all lied. She never wanted to be like you, just like Yeosang. Both of them wanted to be human and you forced them to be like you. Because you're all fucked!" A half laugh, half gasp leaves your lips, thoughts scattered. "Why am I still here? I need to go, I need—"

"Why does every incarnation of you just never listen? Why do we have to go through this every time?" Yunho sighs, rubbing his face. "It would've been so easy if you just cooperated, y/n. It all would be easy." He slowly shuts the door behind him, the grip on his knife tightening. When did he get that? "We could've done it differently this time, my love."

The tension in the room shifts as he speaks. Wooyoung keeps his gaze low, Mingi staring at his friend. He looks furious, fists curled into themselves. “Yunho—”

“Say another word, Song, and I’ll kill you myself.”

"No one is killing anyone," Seonghwa enters the room, barely giving Yunho a glance. He looks at you, a small smile on his lips. "Want to talk? Alone?"

In all honesty you want to be left alone completely, but that will never be the case. Instead, you give him a weak nod, letting his hand slip into yours. Just as you're about to leave the room, you stop him. Whatever is happening between Mingi and Yunho, their friendship is crumbling in front of you. You just have this strange feeling that if you leave them alone something would happen. It's human nature; despite their lack of care for your own life, you care for theirs. Out of fear you avoid Jongho and Yunho's eyes, looking at Mingi.

"Can you come too?"

-

None of you say a word as you sit in the room together. Your head is tucked between your knees, breath shaky as you try to think this through. None of them will help you, you’re sure of it. Even with Mingi’s attempt, you’re sure he won’t do it as easily as before. Hongjoong might convince him otherwise. How he pulled those memories out of you, you’d never be able to explain. All of it is just so much, so heavily weighed on you. Everything is just too overwhelming.

“Do you need air?” Seonghwa asks softly, crouching in front of you. He doesn’t touch you or hold your hand and you’re thankful for it, emotions slowly taking over.

“I don’t know if I can take this anymore,” you admit, lifting your head just enough to show him your moist gaze. “My friend is dead, my parents disowned me. Seungwoo tricked me into caring about him and he’s gone now too. Yeosang is…” Your voice catches in your throat. “I have no one, Seonghwa. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone. I’m alone.”

Waiting for his reassurances, telling you that you have them, it never comes. He rests his head against the foot of the bed, barely a centimeter or so away from where you rest. Your body shakes, trembling. You wonder if he realizes that there’s nothing he could say that would convince you that you’re not in danger, that you’re safe around them. The more you think about it, he’s a part of the few who told you that they apologize for what they’ve done - despite continuously doing it. It all feels mute now. The more you try to convince yourself that everything is fine, the more you fold into your own thoughts.

Nothing is fine. You’re sure that it never was.

“Was it the change that made him do it?” You ask, “Did turning into this make him unstable? Make all of you not as you were?”

Mingi scoffs, a light laugh escaping him. “It’s like we’re experiencing the same conversation over again.”

“You should have learned from the first time. Rose warned you and yet you made her take her life because she was terrified of all of you. You did this to her, whether you’d like it or not.” All of the visions are beginning to add up. Realizations one after the other. In the end Hongjoong was right; it didn’t matter who killed Rose, or this Cassia that he mentioned. It didn’t matter because your soul would never be free if they continued this cycle. Each time you died was because you rejected one of them. Hongjoong was the first, sure, but whatever poison that infects their bloodstream made all of them the same. All of your thoughts are forming one conclusion.

You have to let them turn you.

The thought makes you ill, body shivers. It makes sense. Every rejection led to death, every single time. Even now, before this revelation, you promised yourself you’d find a way to end your life before living as a vampire. But why let your soul continue the endless torture when you can just stop it? Perhaps you would enjoy your life after this. Maybe, eventually, you’ll learn to love them, enjoy them. You did before all of this. It wasn’t hard. It was strangely easy.

You reach to the side, opening your drawer to grab a tissue. You tense up, remembering that Siyoon’s phone is no longer in its place.

“Did you listen to anything I’ve said?” Seonghwa asks, pulling you away from the drawer. “Are you alright?”

You stare at the blank space, blinking slowly. “Can we have dinner together?”

His eyes widened, looking back at Mingi before standing. “Oh, I can grab a plate for you. I think Yunho was preparing something—”

“No, I want to eat together. With everyone, if that’s okay.”

-

The room is loud. Having eight people talking all at once, laughter in the air as they speak of different things makes you forget for a moment that they aren’t evil. That you’re not safe the longer you stay here. Your resolution from before begins to crack. Are you truly okay with being one of them? The metal smell of blood seeps through the air, your stomach turning as you watch them swallow it from glasses, mixed with other strange substances. None of them mention Yeosang’s absence, the chair pushed in as they pass around miscellaneous things. You can’t help but focus on it. He’s hated his life for over a hundred years. Your heart feels like it’s sliding through your body, sinking into the old hardwood floors. It’s scary, the effect he has on you. His absence has gone through you, you’ve tried burying the thoughts but they only seem to come back into your shaky hands, consuming every waking thought.

Is this how they feel? You planned this dinner to be an intervention, to question them as to what happened to Siyoon’s device. But all you’re doing is selfishly thinking of yourself and not her. Perhaps you’re not much different from them. It’s far too late to run away. Each part of them already lives there. You wish that you had more time. Your eyes shift to Jongho. Did you love him, despite it all? The way he pressed his hand against her lips, forced her to turn. He did not do that to you, no. But would he? Would your Jongho make you choke on his blood with a tender look in his eyes as your life faded? He seems to notice your stare, round eyes meeting yours. There’s care in them, worry, hurt. Regret. The feelings are so overwhelming that you force yourself to leave his eyes, watching the others. He doesn’t look away. Is this feeling what most want? To have someone unable to look away even when you have?

“Which one of you took Siyoon’s phone from my drawer?” The table silences in an instant. You look up from your cold dinner, sliding your gaze from face to face. None of them speak up, as if you didn’t ask a question at all. You swallow slowly. “Is she dead?”

“Yes,” Jongho speaks up. The tone is careful as he whispers. “But I want you to listen to my words carefully, y/n—”

You should have known. Nothing can be good with them. Nothing. “One of you killed her.”

Jongho shakes his head, “y/n—”

“Stop! Stop making me think I’m some fucking crazy person!” You stand up from your seat, hands gripping the wooden table. Through your anger you can see how Hongjoong sips his drink silently, not saying a word. “One of you took her phone away from me and probably destroyed it before I could read what’s on it. Pretending that you didn’t hurt her in any way to keep me here. Jongho, your lies aren’t going to work this time. Not. This. Time.”

“Would you like her phone?” Hongjoong’s brow quirks. He digs into his pocket, the familiar cases appearing in his hands. Without another word, he stands, placing it in front of you. The familiar pink casing staring back at you. “Be my guest. Fair warning; you won’t enjoy what’s on there. She wasn’t the kindest person in the world.”

You ignore his warnings, immediately entering her password. The table is quiet as you look through the various apps. Nothing is out of sorts, not even her emails. Your thumb hovers over the messages, before pressing the icon. It’s filled with unread messages, most sending their sympathies and condolences. But your brows furrow at one chat, the name of it unsettling.

You open it. It’s a group chat between her and several others, many of whom you recognize as acquaintances you met through Siyoon. You read through it, each message sinking in. Insults in between jokes about you, many of which are from Siyoon herself. Endlessly complaining about you, telling the rest that she was using you for her own gain. Messages that date back to even before you met the men who sit in front of you now. Your vision begins to blur as you control to scroll, stopping at the first message in the group chat.

It was a week after you met Siyoon.

siyoon: think we can use her for better grades?

You close the phone, mouth dry. "Did you kill her?"

"No," Jongho says again. “That night, the night we met. She was with someone, they said. A Jaehyeong? I can’t remember his last name. But they were together, and he…” Jongho trails off. “It was a car accident, y/n. They both died.”

The air feels colder as you think back to the night. Leaving her with him despite the red flags. She wasn’t drunk, nor was he, but there was just something off about that night. You were too involved with yourself to think it through clearly. In fact, you’re sure that you told her to message you when she got back home. Thinking about it now, you’ve never received that text.

You don’t take their word for it, opening the web browser on her phone and typing in their names. It’s the first article of a few, a car accident that killed the lives of two innocent young adults. No alcohol in their systems. The phone slips through your fingers, face down against the table.

“How long did you know?” You ask softly. “How long?”

“Not too long after Seonghwa saw you in the bookstore,” Yunho admits, taking another sip of the drink. “We didn’t know you well enough back then, so we thought you knew of it already. It was a bit of a shocker that you didn’t up to this point. When we found the phone in your drawer, that’s when we realized where you went when we lost you in the supermarket.”

Your head slowly shakes on its own as the information sinks in. Unbeknownst to you, the rest of the men in the room exchange looks over you.

“She’s gone.” You hold your hand over your mouth, tears falling down your cheeks, dripping against the table. Seeing your friend Siyoon, her words egregious, makes you feel all but nauseous. It doesn’t change the fact that she’s gone, but it hurts knowing she felt that way about you. That you were just a tool in her life, when you thought you were more than that.

You've felt alone before, but the sinking feeling that you have not one person in this world who cares about you is utterly terrifying.

-

Hongjoong sits on the balcony, Seonghwa and San across from him. He tends to a cup of wine, sipping slowly as he looks out into the surrounding forest. He hasn’t heard from Mingi or Jongho, guiding you to your room once you’ve found out. A part of him forgot that you still had that brief connection with the woman, immediately giving the phone to Wooyoung once he found out about it. He’s thankful that you were too distraught to notice anything strange about the messages, dates and communications slightly off. But it convinced you enough, the device forgotten as you sink into your grief.

He glances at the other two across from him, lids heavy. “Would either of you care so much for a woman who insulted you and used you in your past?”

San hesitates before speaking. “They were friends, Hongjoong. She cared for her. It would be hard not to feel immense grief at the thought of losing someone that close. She will be devastated for a long time.”

He sighs, taking another sip. “Then we have to delay turning her.”

“Is this… not too far?” Seonghwa asks, already predicting his answer. “She has lost her friends, family. You never told us you would manipulate her thoughts that way. Now she believes that her family hated her.”

He merely shrugs, “They would have anyway once they saw their daughter as one of us. Her parents were quite traditional. She hid every relationship from them in fear of their rejection. Ours wouldn’t have been much different.”

“And Yeosang, then? Will we continue to force them apart?”

“Of course not, hyung.” It’s a farce in itself, knowing that Hongjoong is thousands of years older than he is. “Do you truly consider me that mad?” He rolls his eyes. “I told Yeosang to come home whenever he likes. He is the only one preventing himself from entering these doors. He’s afraid of what she might say to him. Not unwarranted — she did see him at his lowest. It would be a bit hard for her to see him without imagining that blood covering his body.”

“I just don’t understand,” San stands from his spot. “How will all of this make her want to be one of us? She’s just brewing in her hurt now. It’s worse than Rose now. There’s no chance she’d agree, or live that long to accept herself.”

“You never think of the bigger picture, San. She is hurting so badly now, thoughts darker and more vulnerable. Now she really has no one but us. There's no need to convince her because she'll come to the conclusion herself." He grins, leaning further back in his seat. "And I will be waiting with open arms."

-

Wooyoung wipes the blood against his jeans, some of it sticking to the underside of his nails. They haven't killed anyone; their thoughts wiped as they stumble down the street, told to go back to their homes. He slumps himself onto the bench. After being turned he considered himself a less caring man. He knows it, more than the others tell him. But seeing you so defeated… it made him feel filthy. No amount of blood draining helps him forget the distant look in your eyes. You looked so alone. It reminded him of his former life; abandoned and distraught. He knows that if Seonghwa didn't find him sooner, he wouldn't have survived for much longer.

He lifts his hands, staring at his palms. Is this what they've become? Shells of their former selves? Losing you devastated him. He could remember the murder sprees they went on, full of grief. Not caring who or what they killed. So consumed with turmoil for years. He thought that when he saw you again, his peach, it would be okay again. You would love him as you did before with ease, care for him. But it just feels the opposite. That he's trying to convince you to give him a chance.

He leans his head back, staring at the night sky. It's a bit colder now despite the change in seasons, the summer breeze chilly.

He scoffs, rubbing his face.

Maybe he is completely delusional.

-

Your knees are tucked close to your chest. You're not sure if you can cry anymore, body exhausted from the hours of sobbing. You stare at the door, knowing that even if they're giving you space, you couldn't do anything without them knowing. Their hearing far supersedes yours. It wouldn't surprise you if your heart beat is being listened to. You close your eyes for a moment.

You have nothing. Just them, just their endless and unconditional affection. No friends, no family. Not even a slip of a memory that Rose could give you. Nothing.

It's scary to think about.

"I want to see him." You whisper.

It pains you to even think of his face, but you need to see him. You need him to tell you that he's there. That he won't abandon you when you make your choice.

"Please."

-

Mingi stands outside the abandoned cemetery. His hand grips the rusted gate, chest tight. It's funny that he could feel it despite his heart no longer functioning at all. All of them know where he went. It's hard not to when they're all so in tune to each other. But here? The place that Mingi avoided with everything that he had. The place they buried their beautiful Rose. He takes a long breath, taking slow steps inside. Her grave isn't too far away from the entrance, but it makes him want to break down the closer he gets. He spots Yeosang not too far off, sitting in a folded chair, eyes glued to her grave.

He wears the same outfit he left home that night. Clothing still stained with dried blood, ripped every which way. Smell putrid, nauseating if Mingi were a human. But he's used to the smell of the dead. It's a smell that appears when they haven't fed or moved in a while. None of them really let themselves get that far into decaying, but Yeosang does quite often. A form of self torture, Mingi thinks. A method that he once used when he let his thoughts take over.

"That's something you and y/n have in common. Never say a word until I speak up," Yeosang says. His voice sounds hoarse. This is probably the first time he's said a word aloud in weeks; deeper tone much more so. He doesn't move though, back still facing Mingi as he makes his way over. "I'm not going back if that's what you're here for."

"We want to make sure you're okay."

"Right. They wouldn't send you if they did care."

"You know we care, Yeosang. Don't start with that," Mingi knows he's partially correct. Hongjoong planned on coming himself but Mingi insisted it be him. Wooyoung was usually the first to break Yeosang. Mingi never really understood how to speak to him. They're friends, sure. Family. But he and Yeosang aren't as close as the others. There's often silence when they're together. Comforting, but quiet. "I wanted to come."

"Did you." A statement, more than a question.

"It's been weeks, Yeo."

“And it’s usually years before one of you decides to come find me.”

Mingi sighs, “You know it’s different this time.”

“Ah yes. This time you have your Rose, and you want everything to be perfect for her. My apologies for messing things up again. Tell Hongjoong I give him my condolences.”

“She’s not just mine.”

“No, she’s his. She’s always been his. Alas, I have forgotten,” He rolls his eyes, “What do you believe is holding us together after all these years? And if there is any answer other than her, it’s a lie. We’ve all desired in different ways, what we would do if she came back to us. And now that she’s here, everyone is only caring about their own feelings. Have you not considered hers? Do hers matter in the grand scheme of things? Do we truly want her for as she is now, or how she was before?

“You think we don’t care?”

“Not necessarily. I think you care for a woman who’s no longer there. What do you know of her now that isn’t something from before? Wooyoung called her peach with such ease, Hongjoong called her his sea. Nothing that we have done thus far is for the woman in front of us now. We have wrecked her life so that we ourselves can live in a falsehood. The only reason we still tolerate each other after decades of fighting is because we have her as the reward at the end. You may consider me wrong, fine. But I’m not deluded into this fantasy that you’ve all formed.”

Mingi looks at Yeosang sitting on the rock. He looks tired for an immortal, eyes heavy, skin paler from lack of blood supply. It’s strange that despite all his words Mingi can tell that he loves her. He was never this passionate about Rose, never this protective over her well-being. In a bizarre way, the man sitting in front of him may love you more entirely. No one fights for a life this desperately without love.

“You adore her, don’t you, Yeo?” Mingi asks softly. His brows seem to furrow in pain at the question, mouth opening and closing. He takes a long breath, gaze on the city in front of them. “What will you do, then? Let us turn her?”

“... I can’t stop it.”

“You’d give up so easily?” Mingi’s brow lifts.

“Have you? You tell me to do something you know I cannot, and complain about me being resigned in my position? And make it into my problem when you're as concerned as I?" He scoffs, sinking deeper into his seat. "Mingi, you've lived long and have known me well enough to not ask stupid questions."

"I'm accepting it because I don't see another way," he admits. "You wish to no longer be immortal, but I can't imagine not being one. I can't imagine being a human again. And I can't imagine losing her because of it. It's horrid, no need to look at me like that."

Yeosang tries to fix his expression, only twisting further into silent disgust. He looks away from his friend. The sky seems more interesting than the conversation they're having. "I'm glad you know how stupid you sound."

"I know. Might be because we're all slowly falling into our madness without you around."

"Shiny words won't make me come back."

"...She needs you, Yeosang. More than you know. I think you're the only one who can pull her out of this."

"Nothing you say is going to make me want to come back—"

"She asked for you."

Yeosang is silent. It feels like a lifetime has passed when he speaks up again.

"Lying is a sin."

"Then my words must make me all the more blessed."

Yeosang grips the railing, "Did she truly, Mingi? You aren't fibbing this time? Hongjoong didn't put you up to this?"

"No. Yeosang, you're a fuck-up just like the rest of us. But she loves you. She wouldn't give up on you."

Yeosang sucks in a breath, turning back to the grave. He lifts his hand, as if to reach out. Instead, it limply falls back to his knee.

"I love her, Mingi. I love y/n, I probably love her more than I've ever loved Rose. And it fucking terrifies me," he runs his fingers through his hair, only causing it to stick up more. "I can't see her because I will break down. I don't know what I'll do if she doesn't forgive me. I don't even deserve to be forgiven for killing all of those people. I—" He looks at Mingi, eyes glazed over with a pink tint. "I would try to turn her right then and there to make her forget."

“You wouldn’t.”

“And I would have believed that before everything happened. Now I’m not too sure. It might be what Hongjoong is banking on. Me losing control like I always do. I can’t, Mingi. I can’t see her when I’m like this,” he glances down at himself, thumbing his soiled clothes. “Even more so with this on me. It’ll just remind her of what I’ve done.”

“One, you’re not going to hurt her,” Mingi holds up his hand when he sees Yeosang opening his mouth. “And two, take a shower?”

"Mingi…"

"Prolonging it will only make it worse in the end. Don't be a fool, Yeosang. We already have enough of those around us, including me."

Yeosang turns back to the headstone, a solemn look on his face. "Rose would strangle us all if she knew what we're doing. In moments like this, I cannot help but miss her presence. She was often kind but stern with her words. I am sure all of us would have been scolded to the ends of the Earth."

Mingi's lips curve into a small smile. "We'd leave with burning ears and ringing heads."

Yeosang laughs then, shaking his head. His smile slips again, swallowing slowly. "I'll think about it, Mingi. I know you're not lying, and she requested me. But though she is ready, I'm not. Not yet."

"Then I will stay with you until you are."

"You don't have to do that," he glances at him. "I know you dread this place."

Mingi only sinks to his knees next to his friend, resting against the side of the large rock. Yeosang does not discourage him, allowing him to join as they stare at the stone.

At their Rose.

-

You can't remember how much time has passed. Sadness burdens your soul, your feet dragging against the tiles, barely acknowledging anyone who passed by. Holding back your tears each time you think of your friend. It's enough that you've broken down in front of them, it would be silly for it to happen over and over again. Your pride speaking, but it's all you have left.

You feel the air shift as you're shifting your blankets on the bed. Your grip tightens when you sense someone standing at the doorway. They've announced themselves each time, but this feels much different. You slowly let go of the sheets, turning around. His hair is in disarray, baggy sweats covering him. Eyes bloodshot, skin paler than usual. Frightened as well, hand gripping the doorway, fingers almost digging into the wood. His body trembles, lip between his teeth as he stares.

"Yeosang?" Your voice is rough, eyes moist.

His smile is slight, swallowing slowly.

"Hi, pretty."

He steps inside, sliding his hand against the wall. He stops when he's on the far opposite wall, glancing around your room. It's in as much disarray as he looks. Clothes thrown everywhere, items in the wrong places. His eyes stay on the window briefly, the bars against it making his brows furrow for a moment, before relaxing.

"I heard about your friend."

You slowly nod, sinking into the mattress. "It hurts, Yeo."

"I know." His head tilts. "It must hurt plenty."

"Unbelievably so," you whisper, looking away from him. "I think… I should be used to hurting. It's happened for a while now. But everytime I think about it I just, I can't. I never got to say goodbye."

"You love her."

You force out a laugh, "Yeah, despite all of the shit I read. I can't help but still love her. I have so many questions I can't ask and it feels like… I don't know."

"A hole. One you can't ever fill because she's gone," he rests his hands above where his heart should be, blinking slowly. "And you relive the moment you last saw her over and over again in your head, trying to make sense of it all but you can't because grief is just too hard."

The familiar tightness in your chest twists inside of you as he speaks. He looks at you, understanding. You can't respond, a sob waiting to escape.

"Tell me where it hurts, pretty. You can point to it if you want."

You hover your hand over your chest, lightly resting it against your skin. Yeosang takes a slow step toward you. He's still trembling, one hand tucked into his pocket. He looks at you before he touches you, a silent question in his eyes. You nod, and he places his hand upon yours. It's quite cold in comparison to yours, the beating of your heart filling your ears.

Kang Yeosang slowly crouches in front of you, gaze and head moving to meet your eyes. "I'm here."

It's enough for the sob to leave your mouth, your hand entwining with his as you let go. You've found it so hard to walk through everyday, you dreaded the moments when you were alone. Your grief grew so heavy inside of you it felt as if you were becoming numb. But he says two words to you with such ease, and you fall apart.

It utterly terrifies you.

Hours must have passed, the exhaustion of your sadness guiding you back beneath your sheets. Yeosang does not dare touch you, but he stays just a couple of feet away, Head resting on his forearm as he watches you from your bed. Neither of you have said a word for quite a while now. You wonder if he is waiting for you to speak up, or will he do it on his own. There's several questions you'd like to ask, but now being with him, you no longer have the will to.

He adjusts himself in the cushion seat, pushing strands away from his forehead. "I could remember the first night that I lost Rose. I was inconsolable. All of them were too stricken with their own grief to help me with mine which I cannot blame. I starved myself over and over again to the brink of becoming solidified, but one of them fed me blood, enough to keep me alive. After about a decade or so… I expressed my grief in a way I hate to speak about. One that you witnessed not too long ago," His eyes shift to yours. "There is no right way to process it, but there are wrong ways. I have taken the wrong path more times than I can count. Sorry wouldn't work in a situation like this."

You can't speak up, the blood covered hall flashing in your memory. You've suppressed enough so that you're able to sleep, at least. "Do you often express extreme emotions this way?" You ask.

He covers his face with his hands. "I haven't in decades. This is… an outlier. I shouldn't have done it, but seeing you there in the midst of it all, it made me realize how far I've lost myself. I let my mind sink into the primal urges. I let myself get that bad, y/n. Forgiveness is not what I can ask of you, and neither could I tell their families I was the one who broke them." He swallows slowly. "I can remember their faces, the glimpses of fear. And it hurts to say that I cannot give much remorse because I know of what they've done. I know the lives that were lost because of their greed. Their faces are burned into my mind. Each and every life I took."

A pause.

"I am the monster I've always thought I was."

Comfort is not what you can offer in this situation, nor forgiveness. Trusting the judicial system is not something you believe in either, but neither is mass murder. You can only nod, shifting your eyes away from him. "You made a decision that you thought was right at the time. I cannot fault you for it." What the hell are you saying? He murdered people. You should be running out that door, not chatting it up. But all your mind could think of is helping him. Letting him know you're not giving up on him.

Perhaps he isn't the only monster in the room.

"I wish I could hate you," you confess. "I really wish I could sit here and say that I hate you and I want to never see you again. And I hate it even more that I can't. I can't hate you, Yeosang," you whisper. "You've lived a life you never wanted, you've done things because of it. It's inexcusable, but it's not surprising given the circumstances."

"y/n…" He starts, but you interrupt.

"All I can think about is that you're safe, Yeo. You're back, and you're safe. And I get to see you again. I don't know what to do about what you've done, but I'm just happy that you're here with me. That you didn't leave me."

"We're both a little fucked in the head, aren't we?"

You snort at the harsh words. “A little is an understatement.”

He leans back, staring at you. It’s not an uncomfortable silence, until he notices you look away, rubbing your arms. He closes his eyes, humming. “Mingi came to me. Told me to come back.”

“Where were you?”

His lip lifts, “At Rose’s grave. We don’t often visit it because of the harsh memories, but I like to. Gives me a chance to clear my head, think things through.”

“You can speak to the dead?”

He laughs, “No. I can speak to a stone though. She’s likely scolding us for how we’re acting.”

“Would she?”

He nods immediately. “No hesitation. She hated when we did stupid things, moreso things like this. I wouldn’t believe alive if she were here. She would…” he paused for a moment. “She would hate what we’ve done to you.”

Your smile fades the same time as his, the room shifting into a silence. It’s not as comfortable as before, his words forcing you to confront what’s happening right in front of you.

-

“She trusts him.”

“It was broken when she saw him hurt those people.”

“Was it really broken? Do you truly believe that she would ask for him to see her if it were true?”

“Then what do you want me to do, San? Stop them from seeing each other? I’ve done that endlessly, since the beginning. And it’s like it no longer matters because she will find a way to see him again. It’s just as it was before. Trying to separate them will only lead to her end. And I’m not sure if I can handle losing her again,” Wooyoung shakes his head slowly. “I’m not sure any of us could handle it again.”

“What do you propose?” San swallows slowly. Wooyoung doesn’t notice how San’s voice weakens a bit, glancing flicking up before looking back at him. “Joong isn’t going to be happy. He wants there to be difficulty in reconciling between them. But they’re inside chatting it up as if nothing happened.”

Wooyoung glances up from his spot on the bench, the curtains to your room closed. It’s been a while since Yeosang came back, the two of you inside the room for several hours now. Despite having the ability to listen he didn’t this time, knowing that it would hurt you even more. Getting on your good side is hard, but he’s willing to do whatever it takes. And if that means being unable to interfere with Yeosang, then so be it.

“I’m not going to do it.”

“Wooyoung…”

“San, I’m not doing this anymore. I can’t. She already hates me for doing it before.”

“Then this won’t change anything.”

Wooyoung slowly shakes his head, “San…”

“Do you expect her to just forgive you? She’s not going to forgive the man who destroyed her love’s life. You turned Yeosang, remember? You were the one who made him this way because of your jealousy. She saw it in her head. She won’t forget it.”

Wooyoung presses his hands over his ears, nails digging into his scalp. “San, please—”

“She won’t ever love you.”

“Stop!” Wooyoung stands, pushing past his friend and entering the house. He disappears within an instant, leaving him alone to stand outside. San’s express drops, fingers dragging through the loose strands that frame his face. His eyes flick up to Hongjoong’s balcony. Said man stands there, tending to a cigarette. His grin is wide as he looks at San, a light laugh escaping him.

San could only give him a pathetic smile back and enters the house a few seconds after Wooyoung.

-

The conversation with Yeosang ended there with him mumbling an excuse to leave. You confronted him just as he was about to go, your eyes asking if this were the last time you’d see him. He pressed his lips to your knuckles just then, a soft I won’t leave you anymore falling from his lips before he disappeared down the hall. And he kept his promise since then.

You left your room often now, the others roaming around the hallways. Vastly different from before, greetings exchanged, laughs echoed. It was as comfortable as it could be. You even laughed at something Jongho said to Mingi while they were arguing, and his eyes lit up at the sound. Sure, it was brief and you immediately shifted your gaze, but it was something to him. And if that was the beginning of you forgiving him, he was going to accept it.

Surprisingly, to everyone else and yourself, you slowly began speaking to Hongjoong. At first it was very brief, good mornings and goodnights in the beginning. But now, you let him sit beside you while a movie played in the living room. You even let him serve you dinner. Astonishing, the others knowing that his cooking skills were sub-par in comparison to so many of the other men. Hongjoong took it well, each step in your relationship seemed to build it closer to a good one.

You, of course, did not feel the same.

Each building block is a seed planted in his head. To bring you closer to him, so that he trusts you. Trust you enough to where you can get close.

Close enough to kill him.

The plan isn’t foolproof, you’re sure there’s a part of him that suspects it’s a ruse. There’s no forgetting the dozens of times you’ve told him that you would never be anything to him, that you’ll hate him as long as you live. But maybe if you go slow, if you let a few months pass, you’ll convince even him. It’s a long shot, no telling, but you have to try.

It’s been a couple of months now living with them. You thought you’d hate every moment being there, but unfortunately, that’s not the case. Your laughter and humor is real, the smiles you exchange with everyone are genuine. More often than not you remind yourself why you’re still there, what you’re doing. But most days you forget, enjoying your time spent with them. How easily have you fallen underneath their web.

“Another?” Mingi whines, scrolling through his calendar. “I thought we limited shows to Fridays only?”

“Unlike you,” Yunho wiggles his finger. “Some of us like to feed more than once a week.”

“Then I can stay?” his eyes brighten, only to be shut down by Hongjoong entering the room.

“No, you can’t. Jongho needs someone to guard with him and make sure things are okay while we’re feeding. And you stayed home with my sea last week.”

Mingi throws his head back in utter agony, pout deepening. You watch them, eating your apple. Wooyoung gave up on buying peaches and you’re more than thankful for his change of heart. Hongjoong leans against the wall, glancing at you. There’s something there, something you can’t quite decipher.

“But no one has fed in a while. Any of us,” San points out, glancing around the room. “We should all go.”

“You all can go,” Hongjoong says, shrugging. “I’ll stay with y/n. We have some things to discuss.”

The others look at you, questions in their eyes. You’ve immediately learned their different expressions. These are of worry, and confusion. You don’t trust Hongjoong, you never will… But you know he wouldn’t kill you. At least, not right now. You hope.

“Fine with me,” you continue to eat your snack. “I’ll see you all later, then?”

Mingi’s dragged out of the seat by Yunho, the others slowly disappearing to their designated rooms, getting dressed for the concert. Hongjoong lingers in the kitchen with you, humming. He opens the fridge, tsking at the lack of food inside. “I told Seonghwa to go shopping.”

“No big deal,” you murmur. “I’ll be going out soon enough with him. It was supposed to be today, but I guess it’ll happen tomorrow.” The others pass by again, waving goodbye as they leave. Eventually the two of you are alone, Hongjoong exiting the kitchen.

“Didn’t you want to speak to me about something?” you ask just as he’s about to disappear down the hallway. He glances back, shaking his head.

“I just wanted to be alone with you. A bit greedy, that’s all,” he flicks his brows up, waving goodbye. “Have a good night, my sea.” With that, he exits, leaving you alone in the kitchen. It's an open invitation to follow.

One that you take.

You close the door behind you to his room. You haven't entered it at all. It's similar in size to everyone else's, his bed slighter larger in comparison, a balcony just a few steps away from it. He moves quickly, pressing you against the door frame. Your breath hitches, his lips trailing along the back of your neck.

“Do you even like me?”

Hongjoong’s hand slides up your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He turns you around. He rests just below your cheek, tilting your head towards him so as to guide your gaze to his. Despite how warm his eyes look, you can see the tightness in his jaw, the resolute tilt of his lips. He blinks slowly, humming as his thumb trails along your face. “Shall I slay every person who has ever looked at you with disdain to prove it?”

You laugh, though knowing the truth behind his words. There’s no doubt in your mind that he would in fact listen if you asked him to do so. But you play it off as if he’s facetious, shaking your head. “I asked if you liked me, not for you to murder in my name.”

“I would give you anything, my sea. Of course I like you.”

You wonder if he believes his own words.

“I’m just waiting for you to say you like me.”

“Unlikely,” you snort, placing your hand on his. You hear his breath hitch, eyes flicking to your touch. You never noticed how easily it was to make him off balance, lose his nonchalance. There has been endless doubt on how much you afflicted Hongjoong, but there is little now. You would just have to persuade him that you do care, even if it is a mere fraction of his. With that in mind you move yourself off the door and walk to the mattress, ignoring the beating of your heart, nerves coating your palms as you wipe them against your thighs. You sit on the edge, his speed quickly. In a moment, he's sitting on the edge with you.

Hongjoong watches you in curious silence. Just as he’s about to leave forward, you lift your leg, straddling him. He looks up at you in mild surprise, lips parting and shutting. Leaving Kim Hongjoong astounded? Perhaps you are good at this manipulation game.

You lean forward, palms resting on either side of his face. Just a breath apart. You stare at his face, taking in each part of him. The scar of his brow, the light moles adorning his skin. The soft curve of his lips. He is beautiful, no doubt.

“I do like you, Kim Hongjoong. Despite how out of your mind you are.”

His hands go to rest on your thighs, lids heavy as he stares at you. His smile rises, gaze now on your lips. “I’ve lived with you for many lives. Each one different from the next. I’ve known your soul longer than you've known yourself. It's fairly easy to know when you’re being deceitful.”

You ignore how your body shivers as his hands travel to your hips, squeezing slightly. It’s a game he’s played for thousands of years, while you’ve only known him for less than a percentage of that. But one thing you do know: you are his weakness.

“How can I prove it?” You ask, leaning closer. Your nose brushes against Hongjoong, a shuddered breath escaping his lips. His grip tightens on your hips, pressing you harshly against him. He presses against your lower stomach, hard against your softer skin.

“You tell me.”

"Have you ever…?" You trail off.

He rolls his eyes. "I've fucked before, love. Just never with you. Something always seemed to get in the way. You dying, mostly. But I have never made love." His lip brushes against your forehead.

"I don't love you," You murmur, and he only laughs.

"Even you aren't a good enough liar to convince me otherwise. But all I ask is one thing from you." He watches your gaze, hand dragging along your body, before touching your face. “I want you to be mine,” his fingers release your chin, slowly wandering along the outline of your jaw.

“All yours?” you breathe.

“Mine,” he agrees with a whisper so low that you feel it all the way down to your pelvis. His hand suddenly slips downward to firmly grasp the back of your neck, pressure light. “Let me be yours.” The feelings that stir in you now as his head tilts to the side and he wets his bottom lip are separate from anything that may be fearful — and that’s the thought that terrifies you. There’s no use in saying that you’re not attracted to him; you always have been. The realization that you're beneath him now, after so long of resisting and fighting the temptation — you can’t deny the frantic pounding of your heart. And you wouldn't be able to fib in the slightest, Hongjoong can feel it as it goes anyway.

“You’ve tortured me for so long,” he leans closer to you, free hand resting on the side of your body, trapping you beneath him. “I have to admit that I’m shocked to see you beneath me this way. Is this unwanted?” he asks softly, eyes flicking between yours. “Despite my desires, I wouldn’t want this to be forced.”

You have an agenda. And a small part of you feels as if he might know what it is. But the way he’s looking at you now, a glimmer of hope shines beneath it.

“No,” you reply. With that, he takes your mouth with his own. His soft lips press ardently against yours, desire spilling each time he slightly pulls away. Your hands slide into his hair, body relaxing into the mattress. You part your lips, his tongue seeking out yours whilst he grabs a hold of your thigh to drag both your legs closer to him He lies himself on top of you, and all the while his darkened eyes never once leave yours, his jaw tensed but breathing heavy.

As Hongjoong delves back in, his tongue rolls inside your mouth and he lets out a low-pitched groan, your body arching up into his palm that begins to fondle your breast through your shirt. He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging harshly as his hand grips the top of your shirt. Fabric rips and exposes your bra, he scoops your breast from the cup, a relieved sigh escaping him.

“You're so soft.”

“Joong,” you whimper, front teeth sinking deep into your lip, fingers grabbing at the soft white cotton that covers his shoulders.

Hongjoong's face lightens up at the sound of his name escaping your lips, dipping to his head to encircle the entirety of your nipple with his mouth. He sucks, gently circling his tongue around and smiling when you moan.

His warm hand reaches for the opposite side of your chest and cups you, switching his mouth to the other, biting and tugging. Just as you're about to say his name again he presses himself into you, his hardness pushing harshly into your pelvis. He doesn’t stop sucking until you're twisting on the bed.

“In awe," you hear him say. You meet his eyes, “You haven't the slightest inkling how long I've waited for you, my sea. I wish I could spend all night with you. Unfortunate that you have to be somewhere in the morning.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "Where—"

He interrupts, slowly lifting your shirt up and over your head, hand only giving a slight tug to your pants, the tear echoing through the air as he tosses them to the side. You could only pout, your pile of fabric, one of your favorite sleepwears.

"I'll give you the world, y/n. No need to worry about a couple of pieces of clothing." Unlike the others you have been with, his touch is softer, slowly rubbing the plushness of your thighs, lips trailing delicate, wet kisses against the skin.

“Please,” you moan softly, peering down. Hongjoong looks up with a devilish curl to his lips, his smile to die for.

“Yes?” he replies, mock innocence coating his gaze.

“Please touch me, Joong.”

After having fought against Hongjoong’s yearning for you for close to a year, it feels more than off to let these words escape your lips. Your body is practically on display beneath him, his lids heavy with lust as they take you in. He seems to enjoy the moment differently than you, for many reasons you'd rather not dwell on for long. Hee slides it down to the middle of your legs, hot breath tickling your skin. You can feel how your underwear clings to you because of your arousal, almost forgotten from how his eyes seem to want to take you apart.

“All for me?” he groans as his fingertips slip into you, pressing kisses to the angle of your jaw. “So wet.” Hongjoong traces the outline of you, brushing teasingly over your clit. “I must admit, it feels good knowing this is all for me.”

You say nothing, only meeting his eyes with want in your gaze. He licks his lips, head tilting slightly as he stares at you.

“I know, my sea. I always knew.”

He knows nothing.

He hooks his finger on the fabric lining your hips, a quick tug ripping it with ease. You throb at the act. His body pressed to yours and his fingers hovering so close to you —

How easy it is to succumb to him.

"I've been waiting centuries, lovely," Hongjoong whispers against your skin. "It's made me a bit needy, you know. But I need to know if you want me as I want you. y/n," his hand raises to your face, tilting it so that you meet his gaze. "Do you want me?"

Making the decision to go through with this, to let him take you now — some part of you knows it isn't the wisest decision. It will only make your choice of killing him more difficult down the line. But if this is what it takes to have Hongjoong believe your every word, you'll do it. An even smaller part of you knows that despite everything, you want this. You want him. It feels as if hours have passed of your silence, Hongjoong neither getting closer to the center of you or moving his hand from your face. He waits patiently, just as he has waited for a time incomprehensible to you.

"I want you, Kim Hongjoong."

You see the shift in his gaze in an instant. His brown irises slowly fade, eyes glistening over to a pure white. The sight doesn't scare you as much as it entices you. If you weren't in the heat of the moment you'd scold yourself at how ridiculous you're being.

His fingers slowly rub circles into your clit, pressure increases each time he makes each round. Your hips grind into the movements, a silent plea for him to pick up the pace. He doesn't of course, the devilish grin of his widening as he studies you. You've noticed that he's rarely ever left your gaze, as if memorizing this moment, solidifying this as your choice. And it is, in the end. He's asked several times if you want him. If it's a manipulation technique you aren't the wiser.

You feel his middle finger slip next to the first, lightly squeezing your clit, picking up speed and you let out a low moan, head tipping back, finally breaking the stare.

"All for me," he whispers. "Don't hide your moans from me, my sea. I know it feels good, yeah. Want more?" One of his fingers slips down, dragging around the outline of your entrance. He dips it in barely a centimeter, a stifled laugh escaping him when he sees you clench. "Do you?"

“Please.”

He clicks his tongue, running his fingers back up to your clit, pressing down, hard. You cover your mouth with your hand, unable to control the sounds he pulls from you.

"Ah ah," He moves it away, pressing his lips to your fingers briefly. "If I could listen to the others take you, they can listen to us. They all hear us, you know. Amplified hearing comes with the territory."

Despite how your heart races, you clench at the thought of the others listening, Hongjoong's gaze flicking between your legs.

"Oh, you enjoy that, huh? Enjoy us listening to you have sex with someone else, thinking about us coming to your moans with someone else's cock inside of you?" He presses his lips against your stomach. "Wooyoung and Mingi like it the most. They're probably touching themselves right now listening to us." You clench again. "How filthy of my pretty sea."

"Joong—"

He slips two fingers inside of you. "Tsk, so impatient."

Hongjoong is halfway down the sofa, face placed between your legs. Palms flat against the inside of your thighs to spread you wide, his nose dug deep into, a cry escaping from your throat when his mouth covers your clit. You feel his tongue circle it slowly, your fists tightening. The pleasure is all-encompassing — he sucks noisily at the sensitive nub, your fists unclenching and finding themselves in his hair, pushing him closer into you.

He licks at you hungrily, your gaze flicking to his free hand slipping inside his own pants. “Fuck…” he whispers against you, diving back in as soon as the word leaves his mouth. He groans, the flat of his tongue pressed to your entrance as his face slowly rocks from side to side.

“Please,” the feeling of him takes over, your hips rising to meet each swipe of his tongue. The impending release is near, enough so that you’re not able to warn him. Your body trembles, your fingers gripping his hair so tightly you’re sure you’ve pulled out a few strands, his tongue continuing to lap at your core. It starts to linger into the range of oversensitivity, your hands pulling away from his hair and instead, hips moving away from his tongue. He chases you, pushing himself deeper into you.

“I can’t—” you say, but the words seem to go into one ear and out the other. He continues to lick, lips wrapped around your clit. He refuses to let go even as you lean up, his hands gripping your thighs, unmoving. “Hongjoong—” your eyes finally meet his.

They’re completely white as they stare at you. You can see the lift of his cheeks, smiling into you as he sucks. His hands move from your thighs to your hips, pulling you closer into his mouth. He lifts it for just a moment, enough to say one word. “No.”

The break is brief. Hongjoong covers your clit with his plush lips once more, sucking hard. He continues like this for over a minute, watching as tears stain your cheeks. The oversensitivity slowly molds into pleasure, your hips humping against his mouth. Your chest rises and falls, your peak coming much quicker this time. He pushes three fingers into you in an instant, a scream escaping you. He chuckles into you, his mouth finally away from your clit.

“Come for me, my sea. I want to see you come again for me,” he whispers. He doesn’t touch your clit, fingers pumping in and out of you with abandon, the sounds echoing around the room. “Come on, I know you can do it.”

You feel the pads of his fingers touch the spot inside of you, your breath hitching. He keeps them there, rubbing quickly against the rough patch. In an instant your thighs clasp his hand within you, humping violently as you lose yourself. He leans against your stomach, resting his head against your plush skin, watching you.

“Never thought you would be prettier, but look at you. Coming all over me, fucking my fingers.”

You can’t respond to his words, eyes closed as you try to come down from your high. He pulls his fingers out, the sound of him sucking them alluring, but not enough to open your eyes. He pulls you closer to him, finger dragging back to your clit. You pull back in an instant, eyes flicking open. He laughs, grin stretching across his cheeks.

“Already done?”

“Too much…” you swallow. He moves away from your clit at your words, placing his hand just above your chest where your heart lies. He moves up from your legs, head falling on the mattress, eyesight steady with yours. Despite how blown out his eyes are, despite how you can clearly see how aroused he is by the hardness pressed against your upper thigh, he hums, expression softening.

“Okay?” he whispers. For some reason the way he’s looking at you, the love in his eyes… it bothers you. Not because it’s ingenuine, you can see how real the look is. It terrifies you that the look calms you down, settles your heart. That you yearn for him to look at you again just as softly, as kind.

The voice deep in the back of your mind telling you that this wasn’t the smartest idea.

But of course, you ignore it. Out of selfishness or greed, you're not too sure. Hongjoong’s fingers stroke your cheek, humming when you lean into his touch. “You’re pretty,” he murmurs, thumb wiping the tear that falls down. “Even when you cry.”

He leans forward, lips covering yours. The touch is softer, you can feel the emotion he draws into it, tongue lightly flicking yours, the taste of you filling your mouth. Suddenly it’s sweeter, almost strawberry like as you continue to kiss. You don’t notice how you suddenly take the lead, sucking his lips, entering his mouth. He giggles at your movements, hands moving to pull your hips closer against his.

“Taste good?” he pulls away, laughing.

Your cheeks warm when you’ve realized what you’ve done, pulling away. A string of saliva parting your lips. He pecks you quickly, head back against the sheets. “Hm?”

Realizing he asked you a question, you furrow your brows. “How’d you do that?”

His eyes roll, “I’m a vampire, I can do anything I’d like.”

“You’re so fucking annoying.” You frown, and his laugh is even louder.

“And yet here you are,” he moves from his spot to hover over you. He’s pulled off his pants and briefs before you’ve realized it, the length of him resting against your stomach. He grinds it lightly into you, lip between his teeth. “Here you are under me, wanting me.” Holding himself up with one hand, he uses the other to squeeze himself, the sight making your mouth water.

“Thought you were done?” his brows raise, amusement coating his expression. “Unless you want more?” He moves away from you, sliding off the bed. He holds his cock in his hand, languidly stroking it as he stares at you. “Want to taste me?”

Your eyes flick up from his movements to look at his face. His brow raised, he waits for a response. Seemingly unable to respond, he moves closer, body leaning over so he’s directly in your line of sight. “I said, do you want to taste me, my sea?”

You nod, and he moves even closer, hand cupping your chin. You open your mouth now, “I do.”

He nods, letting go. “Go ahead.”

He moves slowly, steps closer and closer to you. Though he seems to be calm, you can see the way eagerness lines his features. He pulls off his shirt, tossing it to the side. You notice a few scars and tattoos on his body, a belly button piercing shining at you in the lower light. His fingers wrap around the base. He’s longer than you thought, but not as thick as you’ve once experienced. Still, your mouth can’t help but water.

“Open, pretty,” he murmurs. You open your mouth slightly, jaw lax. He rests his head against your lips, bending his cock toward you. He lets it sit there for a moment, his breaths heavy, precum coating your lips. His eyes stare at your mouth as he finally enters your mouth inch by inch, moaning when he finally enters. He continues, stopping when you gag. He twitches against your tongue, your eyes watering as you look up at him. His eyes seem to be glossed over, holding your head as he moves out. He moves slowly, in and out, hips rocking back and forth between your lips. You suck and lick, guarding your teeth to make sure you don’t hurt him, the weight of him against your tongue and angling your throat so that he can enter even more.

He groans, speed increasing. “You take me so well, look so good with my cock in your mouth.” Hongjoong pushes your head against him, your nose pressed to his pubic bone. He moves back a bit as you choke, whispering okays and telling you you’re taking him so well. Your hands wrap around his thighs as he fucks your mouth, your throat burning. You feel yourself clenching around nothing. He moves quicker, grinding into your mouth. Your hand reaches down to touch yourself.

He pulls out immediately, grabbing your wrist gently. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Only I get to touch you my sea.” He lets go, lightly nudging you back against the sheets. “Ready for me.”

“Fuck, yes,” you utter, and he only laughs.

“Scream loud for me, so the others know you’re being cared for well,” he grins. Hongjoong’s hips move forward into you without hesitation. Just as a moan tries to escape, he wraps his hand around your throat. His eyes stay on yours, looking to see if you’re uncomfortable. But all he sees is your eyes rolling back, his excitement increasing. He presses his lips against your cheek, moving to the side of your face, just next to your ear.

“Feel good, pretty? You like me inside of you, like me making love to you,” he bites your earlobe, pulling away. “You feel so good, so relaxed for me. Perfect.” Hongjoong eases himself out to slowly to sink back in, moving at a slower pace, the witch of his cock as it glides between your walls. “I’ve waited so long for this, Ca… y/n.”

His hips stutter as he gradually builds speed, grunting each time your hips collide. You reach for anything, deciding on wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He doesn’t resist, his chest pressed against yours, lips meeting one another’s. You’re too consumed with pleasure to notice the slip of tongue. He drives his cock into you, angling his hips directly at your g-spot. He releases your throat, one of his hands reaches for the headboard, driving into you harder, ”You take it so well.”

“Please,” your fingers dig into the back of his neck, piercing his skin. His eyes shift, darkening. The frame of the bed begins to bang loudly against the wall as his speed and force increases. He lets go of the board, gripping your hips and pulling them into each thrust of his. He fucks you harder, hip bones digging into your thighs. He swipes your hand away when you try to rub your clit. Shaking his head.

“You can come without touching yourself.”

“I can’t,” you cry out, trying to reach again. He tsks, pushing it away.

“Come from my cock only, y/n. I know you can do it.”

Your head tips back, the burning of your clit, begging to be touched. You focused on how he feels, how his cock drags against your walls. Just as you think you’re unable to do it, Hongjoong leans forward, teeth grazing your neck.

“Maybe I can help you out, want me to help you out, pretty? Want me to taste you?” His tongue drags against your pulsing vein. You nod without knowing what exactly he means, until his teeth sink into your flesh. You gasp from pain and pleasure,

The head of his cock pushes harshly into you as you cry out, his name spilling from your lips over and over as your orgasm takes over you, you clawing at his biceps in an attempt to hold yourself together. Hongjoong licks your wound, pulling away from you, breaths ragged.

Before you can come down from your high, in a matter of seconds the head of Hongjoong’s cock is inside you once more and you’re being fucked into the mattress, the movement of his hips frantic enough that you know you’ll be sore for several days.

“Fuck,” Hongjoong groans, snapping against you and making you bounce. “Want my come, pretty? Want me to come inside of you?” Hongjoong moans at the feeling of you clenching around him.

“Please, Hongjoong, please,” you gasp.

You hear him groan in response to your words as he presses his chest into yours, and all the while he continues to push inside of you you can feel his cock beginning to throb. His movements begin to falter, his breath heavy against your neck and you screw your eyes shut even tighter as you rock your hips upwards from underneath him to push him to new depths, urging him on. “Joong, please come. ”

“My sea,” he pants as his thrusts become shallow and hurried, his fingertips digging into the mattress to anchor himself, “Fuck.”

Finally, Hongjoong comes,, his hips pressing into you and then staying right there, buried deep within you. His fingers relax slightly from around your throat to allow you to drag in a deep, ragged breath, but Hongjoong keeps his hold. Chest still heaving against yours, you feel his lips come into contact with your cheek to press a soft kiss there, nuzzling your cheekbone for just a second before uttering into your ear.

“Look at me, my sweet sea.”

Your eyes open. His smirk is wide now, eyes crazed. You remember this exact look, one from the visions that you've seen. The one where Rose died beneath Jongho’s hands. Anxiety begins to rattles your body, the cloud of lust seeping away as it only seems to grow more sinister. He leans close to your ear, his soft lips brushing against the skin. It is only six words, but it brings the fear up too high for you to ignore.

"I know."

The stifling hot room suddenly grows colder.

"I know you lied."

His hand slowly wraps around your neck, fingers pressing into the flesh. It’s not enough to cause you to stop breathing, but enough so that you start to panic as he stares down at you. He does a test squeeze once, a breathy laugh escaping his lips.

“Hongjoong—”

“Why would you try to trick me, my sea?” His brows furrow, hurt etched into his features. “Lead me on to think that somewhere deep inside of you, you cared for me? Why plant a fallacy in my mind? Why make me suffer?” He shakes his head. You feel his thumb press into the base of your neck, nail slowly digging. He hasn’t pierced your skin yet, but it’s close. “Speak.”

“To convince you—”

“To convince me that you care?” He finishes, and you nod. “I know you don’t care for me, y/n. I’ve known with each thrust, each moan of my name. I know what you look like when you make love, y/n. And I know what you’ve just done was anything but that,” he leans closer, his tongue dragging along your collarbone. “I know because I saw the others with you. They aren’t the only ones who enjoy the show,” he grins.

“You weren’t there—”

He agrees, humming, “I wasn’t. The good thing about turning, though. Their thoughts are no longer their own, their eyes are mine. I saw everytime someone entered you,” he lets his free hand cup your center, “I felt what they felt.” He slips a finger inside of you, “I saw your eyes roll back for them—” he moves it slowly, squeezing your throat tighter “—I saw you each time you lost yourself in them. Yunho,” he slips in another finger. “Mingi, oh that one was interesting—” his pace increases. “Wooyoung… poor him, he couldn’t even watch.”

He adds two more fingers within an instant, “And how could I forget the last one? Your Yeosang, your pretty, pitiful Yeosang. He’s always wanted you so badly, always wants to save you…” Hongjoong thumb rubs your clit, pace quickening. “He can’t even save himself…”

The door to the room opens, Hongjoong not bothering to turn around to see who it is.

“I didn’t ask you to come in,” Hongjoong hums, pulling his fingers out of you. He grabs the blanket on the side, covering your body with it, hand letting go of your neck. Your chest rises and falls, moving your gaze around him to see who's entered.

San and Yeosang stand there. It's too dark to see what they're wearing, but you're pretty sure it's the outfits from the concert tonight. Has time passed that quickly? You can still feel his fingers around your neck, anger between his words. If they didn't come in… if you weren't so involved… you're not too sure you would have lived.

Yeosang moves closer first, "You're going too far, hyung."

He leans up from the bed, not bothering to cover himself up. San lingers just behind Yeosang, eyes glued to your neck.

"Sad you couldn't join? I never interrupted the two of you, you should give me the same consideration."

"You were killing her, you were going to kill her." Yeosang looks at you, brows furrowed. "I wouldn't let you do that."

He stands, rolling his eyes. He grabs his briefs from the side, slowly pulling it up and over himself. "I was having fun, not killing her. The two of you need to relax a bit. Why would I dare hurt my sea?"

"The blood in her mouth? We can see it on her lips, Hongjoong. We aren't that ignorant."

You wipe your lips, staring at the blood coating your fingers when you pull away. You don't even remember when exactly he did it, or how. Was he going to kill you? Were you so filled with arousal you didn't even think about what was happening? Was that the sweet taste in your mouth? His blood? Your stomach turns at the thought. Hongjoong looks back at you. His white pupils are gone. replaced with the familiar brown. He raises his brow, tongue dragging across his lips. It's there where you see the cut in it.

"Tastes just like strawberries, doesn't it?"

The thought of his blood in your mouth makes you gag, rises from the sheets. You hold the blanket against you, reaching for the water bottle on the side table. Hongjoong grabs it before you do, taking a long drink, emptying it.

"Fuck you!" You yell, anger rising.

"y/n…" San moves closer to you. "Let's get you cleaned up, okay?"

You grab your shirt and slip it over your body, hands trembling against the fabric. San helps you, picking up your sweats from the floor and passing it to you. Yeosang moves closer to Hongjoong, fists tightened.

"You were going to kill her, just like that."

"Don't start to give me a fucking martyr speech, Yeosang. You don't even care about her."

"You—"

Hongjoong reaches out, gripping Yeosang's neck. He slams him against the wall behind him, a scream leaving your mouth. San stands in front of you, hiding your body with his. He looks at Hongjoong with concern, "Hey, isn't this too much—"

"The two of you are a pair, aren't you?" Hongjoong frowns, "So hopelessly involved with y/n. At least she likes Yeosang. She barely even knows San. And here he is, fucking protecting her as if she loves him. As if she cares if he died."

The others soon appear at the door, crowding into the room. The wall behind Yeosang cracks as Hongjoong presses him deeper into it.

"Please stop," you beg, trying to get closer. San holds you back, preventing you from interfering. "He's just trying to protect me."

"If you didn't have Rose's soul he would not give a shit about you, my sea," Hongjoong looks at you, head tilted. "Your soul already saw him die once, it shouldn't matter if you see it happen again."

Yeosang looks down at him, fingers digging into Hongjoong’s hand. Eyes red, denying his words with the curl of his lips. "You'll never understand love, Joong. That's your problem."

"Enlighten me then, my friend."

Yeosang's eyes move to you, softening with such ease it breaks your heart. "Everyone knows I loved Rose, loved her more than she loved me, surely," his eyes flick back to his captain's. "And I loved her Hongjoong. I loved her with everything that I had, and I could barely function when she was gone." His voice breaks, eyes flicking between his. "But that doesn't mean I wouldn't be able to love again. She was my first love, but y/n…" His eyes move to yours, softening. The look only makes your heart crumble even more. "She is my greatest."

Your hold on San's arm loosens at his words. You love him. You've loved him, with every part of you. You love him to the brink of fear, afraid of the unknown.

"How sweet…"

He lets Yeosang go, wiping his hands on his underwear. He glances at the others around the room, frowning. "I wasn't going to kill either of them."

"Let's go, y/n," San whispers, slipping his hand into yours. Yeosang catches his breath on the floor. He lifts his head to meet yours. As if telling you everything is alright. That he's okay. San tugs again, and you follow him out the room, parting the small crowd that formed in the doorway.

-

"Do you know if she truly loved you?" It's an appalling question, one that would throw them for a loop. It seems to leave Seonghwa speechless, mouth parting to speak, closing again. "Did she love you?"

It's been over a day since the incident, Hongjoong moving around as if nothing happened. Yeosang does as well, not mentioning it at all. It was enough of a headache for you to ask Seonghwa for a break. The house feels more stuffy than usual. You sit in the park not too far from their business, swinging your legs back and forth. It was silent while you walked here, but you couldn't help but ask. They love her so dearly, so much. You doubt she felt half of what they did.

"She said she did, she told us she did. Why are you asking?"

"Because if this is the way you express that you love someone, I'm not so sure that she did. If she taught you how to love, this isn't love, Seonghwa."

"I feel like if it was anyone but you telling me this, I'd be furious," he admits, a breathy laugh escaping his lips. "If I may be forward, why do you think so?"

"I don't know," you purse your lips. "I don't know how it was for you back then, how the world was. Maybe my thoughts are more modern in comparison, but I don't think love wants to force you into this mold. If we're humans and you told me you wanted to become this, I think I would be upset for a bit, but I wouldn't tell you to stay a human because I want you to. Though back then, monsters were more of a real thought rather than folklore. I don't think it means that I wouldn't care, it just means that despite it all, I believe you'll still be the person I care for."

You glance at him, leaving out the obvious afterthought. This form changed them. You're sure that Rose died because of their choices. Because they changed. And not in a good way. Their "love" twisted into something unrecognizable, cruel, obsessive, greedy. Dangerous. Subin’s descriptions were mild in comparison to how they actually are. How could Wooyoung just kill Yeosang with ease? Hongjoong almost injuring Yeosang, attempting to turn you?

"I'm very careful when I tell someone I love them. Because for me it is an admittance that my care for you has no bounds, that with everything we will go through I will fight my hardest to make it work. I will stick by you. And I don't feel that way for most of you."

It's a lie, it's a filthy, dirty lie, but you let yourself say it anyway.

He nods slowly. His fingers slowly fold, legs crossed. "It is all a pity, then. I tried my hardest for you, doe. But it seems to be a moot end. I promised them that you would admit your love for us. Stubbornness has always been your strong suit, no matter how many years have passed by. I wanted to save you."

You look around the park. It's quieter in comparison to before. Swings empty, older couples gone. Not one soul, not even a bird chirping. It's eerie in itself. You turn to him, and he looks at you with sorrow.

"One word was all I needed."

You stand up, chest rising and falling quickly. "Hwa—"

"It's calming. Different in comparison to how we turned Rose. I hope you understand that this was a unanimous decision, doe. All of us thought this was the best way to keep you from running away."

He stands and you hold up your hands, shaking your head. "This isn't the way to get what you want, Seonghwa. Repeating the past isn't the way, you know that."

He tilts his head, a light pout decorating his lips. "This is me saving you. Can't you see it?"

You ignore his words, turning around. The closest place is the club just across the street. The one they own. Hiding is the last thing you want to do, but there’s nothing else. Maybe there’s something left over from the fight they had there weeks ago. If you could find your way through the hallways and into the back — maybe there’s a chance you can save yourself. Maybe there’s a way out.

"I'll give you a headstart, doe. At least give you some hope. Go ahead," he nods.

You don't hesitate. Your legs move quick as you run across the empty street. The door to the club is open and you enter, locking it behind you. A part of you wonders why you don't question it, but fear drives you now. You run into a side room, grabbing a knife that Subin left hidden, just before they came to save you last time.

"This will kill them," Subin says to you, dragging his finger along the blade. "It is made from the metal that killed their first love. Hongjoong would be much harder to trick, but I'm sure you can do it."

You stare at it, shaking your head. "Subin, I don't think—"

"Start thinking then, y/n. You won't be free. Not unless you accept their obsession with you, or kill them yourself. Your soul will continue to be stuck in the same perpetual nightmare. You have to stop it. You have to, y/n." His brows soften. "For every iteration of you that has died. Do it for them. Do it for you."

It's the first note that makes you stop what you're doing. You hold the knife in your hands, your grip loosening as you stare out into the hallway.

The familiar tune of the piano. Despite the name of the club you've rarely heard it — the group is a rock band, of course. So hearing the soft melody of Clair de lune echo in the dark is more than what you expect. It's a beautiful song despite this circumstance. You used to love it until this very moment — were they here the entire time? Have they watched your every move once you left Seonghwa in the park?

Were you ever truly alone?

The echo of your shoes add to the music, hushed breaths. There's no use in trying to control them, they know you're here just as you know they are.

"Must we play this game with you?"

You stop moving, gaze glued to the darkness. Your fear overrides your sense of the moment. Who was it that spoke?

"Why run? Is it not beautiful for there to be people who already love you as you are? Why would you try to escape love that is unconditional?"

Still, your mind seems unable to figure out who exactly it is. Is it some sort of talent they have, disguising their voices? Luring you deeper into the darkness? You stop moving.

"Pretty, we already know you're there. No need to try and hide."

Pretty? There's doubt that Yeosang would scare you this way, but it isn't impossible. Not after what you've witnessed at that restaurant.

"What can we do to convince you to stay?"

"Let me go," you whisper. "Finally let me go." Clair de lune rises in volume, your heartbeat throbbing in your ears. "Find someone else to love you. I will never be her."

"You are her, my sweet doe. And you always will be."

Doe? Is it Seonghwa instead? Footsteps catch your attention. They're at the far end of the hallways, slowly ascending, closer and closer to you. Risking waiting for whoever leaves the darkness isn't wise. You know that it'll only lead someone to you back in their home. Back in their arms. You slide the knife back into its place, quickly turning on your heels. You haven't had the chance to explore the club, too engrossed in them to figure out every nook and cranny. You push open a door, locking it behind you quickly. Just as you turn around, your stomach falls.

“What are you?” You say softly.

“It’s easy to guess,” Yunho shrugs.

“Shows at night. Hwa drinking blood, our cold skin. Points to only one thing.”

“We're vampires.”

It's the same room you met them. The velvety couches, the bucket of cell phones on the back table. You were full of life back then, though afraid you stood your ground. And now here you are, back in the same place as before. Will it ever end? Is this a sign that no matter what, you will always follow the same path? Your fingers brush against the knife.

Should you end it here?

"I won't let that happen again, doe," Seonghwa enters the room, hands tucked in his pockets. He moves closer and closer to your frozen figure, hand slipping down your side, pulling the knife away. He stares at it for a moment, worried expression hardening. "Who gave this to you?"

"Subin."

His eyes narrow, grip tightening. The silver bends with ease in his hands, crushed in his palm. He sighs, eyes closing for a moment. "It was the knife that killed Rose, y/n."

“Hwa, what did you do—”

“Do you think I’d allow you to hurt yourself? I said we were going to save you, and you try to do something like this?” He sighs. “We’re trying to protect you the best we can—”

“This is not protecting, Seonghwa. Both you and I know you. I expected things to be different with you. I thought you changed.” Was everything a lie? Every step of the way to get you here, in front of him, about to die?

Are you just that stupid?

“What do you want us to do? Let you die, again? We’ve already done that, y/n. I can’t wait another one hundred years for us to go through the same routine.”

“You’re selfish—”

He laughs, combing his fingers through his hair. “And what if I am, hm? It doesn’t matter; once I turn you, once you become one of us… I can make you forget.”

The same blank look in Yeosang’s eyes.

You back up away from him, gaze resting on yours. It’s not sorrowful in the slightest. It’s settling within you; you expected this eventually. The contemptment, the resignation. He will kill you. You’re not leaving this room without spilling blood. “You never believed I loved you, Seonghwa,” you whisper, back against the wall as he moves to you. “After all this time, you’ve never believed it. But I have.”

“Don’t lie,” he mumbles.

“I did love you, so much. Why do you think I’ve often come to you? I trusted you, Seonghwa. I knew you cared about me, not just my soul. It’s pathetic, really, how much I relied on someone that would go against me in the end. It’s even more pathetic that I’m not angry with you. I’m just sad.”

He shakes his eyes, fists tightening. “You’re allowed to be angry.”

“But I can’t be. I don’t think either Rose or myself was ever really angry with you.”

"You will never lose me."

You can barely make out his words, his fingers digging into yours, light sobs falling from his lips. You hold in yours, letting your forehead rest against his. It feels as if you're mourning him when he is right in front of you. The fleeting wish of knowing him sooner so that you may have spent time with him as he is now crosses your mind. And with horror, the small thought of you living as them so you can know them longer lingers.

"I love you ever so much, Seonghwa," you say. "And I will not make you listen to what I want. If this will make you happy, then I will accept your decision."

Seonghwa presses his palms against his temples, his last sincere moment with you crumbling.

“I would not have asked anyone else to be here with me when I die, Seonghwa. Please let me go.” Rose’s blood spilling onto his clothing, between his fingers. His cries echoing around the ship's chambers.

“y/n, please,” he shakes his head. “I can’t.”

Your finger slips into the hole in the wall, the cold metal of a knife resting there feels against your fingertips. Seonghwa’s back is turned to you, and you quickly pull it out, gripping the handle. Despite the fear that overwhelms you, consumes you, you do it anyway. You press it into your chest.

Exactly where the birthmark of the scar is.

The smell of blood hits him before he sees it. The pain is overbearing, your hand dropping from the handle, body limping forward, almost touching the floor. The sound of the door slamming open, wood splitting at the force. The warm touch of hands catching you just before you fall. His grip is tight, blood sputtering from your lips as you look at him.

"No, no…" His grip on your shirt is tight. You're used to the mirrored emotions, the fakeness dripping from his expression. It's nothing like now. The way he holds you, his face pressed against the fabric of your soaked shirt, sobs escaping his lips. Despite the loss of blood, despite it all, you feel your own heart breaking.

"You have to let me go, Joong," you can’t say it of course, the pain too overwhelming to speak through. "You have to."

“I can’t…” he utters. A cold touch of hands pulls you into his lap, Hongjoong letting you go. You can’t quite tell what’s happening around you, but you hear shouting, furniture breaking. Your vision begins to blur, fingers holding you close to their body. His hand covering your mouth, whispering soft words to you. You don’t feel tears against your skin, but you can feel how he holds you, hands trembling. You just wish that you knew who it was.

The knife is slowly sliding out of your chest, the pain enough to make you lose consciousness within an instant.

-

“It worked.”

“I told you it would.”

“Fuck off, San.”

“Why are you arguing in front of her? Hey pretty peach, it’ll be alright.”

“Still calling her a peach, after everything?”

“You know what-”

You gasp, leaning forward. Hands stop you from moving too quietly, soft words comforting you for the moment. Your eyes flick around, brows furrowed. Mingi, San, Yunho… Yeosang, Seonghwa, Jongho… You continue to circle through the men, one missing. Just as you begin to ask, your head turns to the side. Wooyoung holds you up steady, a sweet smile on his lips. He brushes loose hairs away from your cheek, humming softly.

“You okay, pretty peach?”

You nod slowly, looking down at your hands. They’re free of blood. Wait, should they be covered in blood? “What happened?” you ask.

“One of the attendees at the concert took some bad shit, and you drank from them. It hit you pretty hard and you passed out, but everything is alright now. You’re okay,” Mingi says, nudging Yunho. “I told him to keep an eye on you since you’ve just started this, but he let it slip his mind.”

Yunho rolls his eyes, “I went to the bathroom.”

“Enough arguing, please?” Seonghwa murmurs, smiling at you. “Ready to go to bed, doe?”

You steady yourself off the floor with the help of Wooyoung, thanking him. “Okay.”

Everyone begins leaving the room one by one, Yeosang staying with you. He guides you to the bathroom, asking for permission to help you into the bath. There’s no need to say no, no use for it. He’s been with you since the beginning of your transition since that fateful night at Hiraeth, where you met them all. You sink into the warmth of the water, leaning your head against the side. Yeosang sits there, watching you silently.

“Are you alright?” he asks, thumb brushing against your temple. “You worried us.”

You nod, a smile on your lips. “I’m always alright when I’m with you.”

The expression he gives you back is peculiar. Smile quick, strange. His eyes linger on the scar on your chest. “Okay. I’ll give you some time alone,” his lips brush against your forehead. “See you soon, pretty.”

Just as he closes the door, you lean from your spot. You didn’t mention it even though you should have. Crescents scarred his throat, the imprint of a hand stared at you as he helped you bathe. Your mind told you to stop questioning it, to let it go. But you just couldn’t. The sight looked so familiar, filled you with such fear. Like you were missing something right in front of you, but you just couldn’t grasp it. The eerie feeling began to consume you, clawing at the dryness of your throat, forcing itself into your heart through each beat.

A drum solo makes you stop. Your eyes move to the stage, focused on the man whose drumsticks fly through the air, foot tapping on the bass drum pedal, eyes closed completely as he plays. The crowd screams. But you can only stare. Watch as he expertly plays, lips curved into a smile. Blue hair pulled back with a headband. His eyelids open, immediately looking at you.The burgundy color keeps you in place. He tilts his head, observing you. He hits against the crash cymbal and pulls you away from his mesmerizing gaze.

“...Hongjoong,” you breathe.

He takes out a necklace, holding it between his fingers. “But with the long lives we have lived, it will be unfortunate if someone decided to bring the force of the law against us. I’d rather not spend my days rotting behind a prison cell. Not that we would, of course. But it is helpful, nonetheless.” The necklace drops to the table, a wince from Yeosang catching your attention. “But we didn’t bring you back here to tell you about how San practices law. This piece of jewelry, can you touch it?” Hongjoong slides it against the glass to you. Oddly, it doesn’t scratch at all.

The room grows silent; only the muted music filling the air. You stare at the jewels, the emerald color quite vibrant in the low light. Your curiosity almost outweighs the red exclamation points of danger. So despite it, you only stare at it then flick your gaze to Hongjoong. He tilts his head, waiting for you to respond.

Your hand lingers on the emerald necklace resting between your collarbones, warm despite how cold your skin is.

You remember.

How your soul mourned.

Yeosang pressed his cut hands to your lips just before you died. The others dragging Hongjoong off Seonghwa, barely saving him. Bringing Hongjoong to the brink of death.

When in reality, he was just gone. He disappeared after the night you turned. None of them could figure out where he went. They all simply accepted that he’d never come back. Little do they know what you know.

You held him as you felt his skin grow colder than it ever was. As his fearful eyes lost themselves in yours, and became colder, emptier. You stayed with him, cradling his soulless body tight against your chest. His blood seeping into your shirt, dripping down your leg. The knife thrown to the side; fingers wrapped around the cut on his throat to stop it from bleeding despite how much he tortured you.

The others would tell you how you shed tears for the first time over the man. How your screams were so gut-wrenching, even Yeosang struggled to pull you away. How months later, you woke from your slumber crying out his name. And strangely, how you never recalled any of it at all. They made you believe he’s dead. Yeosang turned you, coerced your mind into perceiving Hongjoong’s blood coating your fingers. You still recollect how clearly the scenery changed around you when you sobbed over his body. Dark background blending into the warmth of the summer dawn.

What a surprise it’ll be when they find out otherwise.

-

tags: @revehosh@mrcarrots@belletiny@sansblkgirlfriend@hwadump@honeyedtalisman@atzcoke@glitterhongjoong@whatudowhennooneseesyou@marievllr-abg@arkive78@dysftopia@kpopnightingale@wxnderingthoughts @jenniee-tm @hongshines@atinytease @multidreams-and-desires @yla-aira@wommypeaches@avantalem@youre-a-wallflower-charlie@toxicccred@xciiiomwliah@madelinelina@kirooz@a-tiny-teez@tenebrisirae @ageofjade @n0v4t33z@yoongiigolden @jonghoharibo @fl0r4f4wn @gh0stbish @kodsukein @vitrealislux@sarcasticsagittarius1998@spiderrenjunfics@aeoliannie​ @tannie13@leeknowsalot@xshansimsx@seojonneh @shingene @justconniez@mingi-banana@anushka-k@nightmarej1n@watamotee33@dear-dreamie@the-ghostest-with-the-mostest@jaxavance@malyxsoulpersonal@az-con@charreddonuts@beautysirens@sunukissed@lixpixstix

[thebestusernamepossible]

Literally going insane, might have to write fanfic for the first time in 2 years because the people™️ do not get my favorite female characters like I do and I feel the insurmountable urge to write her. I’m going to bite drywall why don’t ppl see her complexities. PLEASE STOP WRITING HER ETHIER AS DOMICILE MOM OR BITCH (or just for shipping) she is so so cool please guys please.

Also while I’m here, fandoms tendency to shove women in the ‘pure powerful goddess who can do no wrong’ box and then proceed to never give them an actual narrative role other than like ‘supportive’ or ‘took out a few background guys’. Like why DOES this incredibly badass and complex female character just get shunted into doinging some cool flips, getting praised about it (she’s the strongest fighter, so feminist wow) then never getting actnowleged as a 2 dimensional character.

I saw this a lot when I was in the Batman fandom, particularly with Cassandra Cain. She is a highly complex and interesting character, but in fandom she’s kind of shunted to ‘Badass therapy dog who takes care of the men’. Because even on the slight chance her backstory is brought up it’s always never delved into and mostly used to make her etheir more tragic and in need of support on a surface level or to let her be compassionate with the men characters who get their actual problems foucused on. It’s a unqiue kind of frustrating because it’s like almost letting the cool female character be cool, but it’s more like the idea of a badass women is shoved in your face, maybe joked about (or if we’re lucky she gets to beat up a few bad-guys), but ultimately treated like a cardboard cutout. Interestingly this actually isn’t entirely a female character thing, it’s also common with like old grandfather/grandmother characters and the elderly in general. But it’s usually badass women from what I see. :/ Why can’t fandom explore their stories (people do but why is it so much less), why can’t they be the prtags of cool AUs or time-travel fix-its, or crossover events

Idk I think I’m just frustrated, and I typed out more than I thought I would. Also Ive seen what happens to some other posts complaining about fandom misogyny, so please know if you’re a TERF, fuck off you have no place in this discussion. We will never agree, and frankly all of these points apply to canon Trans Women characters. Don’t say shit ill fucking end you.