#guess body horror kinda lol

[squuote]

new flesh for the new year

[unsat-and-strange]

jonny d'villes heart ticks audibly. the crew can hear it during the few and far between quiet moments on board the aurora. it's so steady, tick tick tick, a reminder that he is there and they are all alive together, never speeding up or slowing down. sometimes they joke about using it as a metronome during practice.

jonnys heart ticks. he can hear it every waking moment. tick tick tick. it never slows down, even in the deepest sleep according to the rest of the crew. it never speeds up even when his blood is more adrenaline then actual blood, times when normal peoples hearts would be racing. whether he's laughing his ass off or terrified for his life (I guess old habits die hard?) it. never. speeds. up. sometimes it's fine, he can ignore it but there are days when the constant tick tick tick tick tick tick tick is too much. the days when he has to drown out the sound with gunfire and screams or music loud enough to make his ears bleed. some days even that barely cuts it and he debates putting a bullet in his head just to make it quiet for a few hours. the rest of the crew has gotten pretty good at recognizing those days, and they know how to help him get through them, just like he knows how to help his crew through their bad days. nastya will bring him into the near deafening engine room and theyll play with power tools until their hands are covered in grease and grit, or Tim will sit him down on a speaker and play the bass so loud the whole ship can feel it, or Marius and raphaella will tell him about unethical medical practices they've witnessed/performed or Brian will just hold him close until the rhythms of the metal man's body distract from the tick tick tick tick of his own heart. the constant tick of immortality is loud. jonny can't deny his luck in finding a crew that is almost always louder.

[wr0ngwarp]

um. uh. hi every body. something evil and malevolent happened in my brain this month.

this is. um. a Jet Set Radio/Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Explorers of Death joke AU, spawned out of a in-joke that started in a pokepasta discord. my apologies to both the pokepasta and jsr fandoms

the entire basis is the idea that Corn in Future retconned og JSR Beat as leader/founder of the GGs (is beat being leader in the og even CANON?) so Corn and Beat are the Myras. no it's not a joke funny enough to justify how many hours i sunk into drawing these. no attempt was made to change the setting, assign most of the other cast, or otherwise make this au hold up to ANY amount of scrutiny. if i tried to make this actually work somehow then i'd REALLY end up too far gone. also i keep calling myrtle!beat "Meat".

MEANWHILE, IN A BETTER UNIVERSE:,

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

is that?? the resident sad flower boy??? how long has it been :0

[soft-pink-wilfy]

For a continuation of my upload spree, have another Resident Evil AU, this time with some mold shenanigans where Karl and Ethan are fused into one person. Because there's no way in hell you're prying my spooky shit out of my grubby little hands.

(Please reblog instead of just liking if you enjoy my art! Reblogs share and help artists get visibility!)

[milksnake-tea]

━━ die with a smile .

In every zombie apocalypse, there's always one who is immune to the infection. And Blade, it seems, is the unlucky one who has to carry that burden.

blade x gn!reader (kinda. relationship is ambiguous)

contains: gorey language (rotting flesh, wounds), zombie apocalypse au, horror(???? I GUESS????? I DONT EVEN KNOW BRO), reader dies lol, blade got major issues

wc: 2.4k

a/n: lord i am NOT good with horror BUT !!! might as well give this a try. if you can call this horror. I DONT EVEN KNOW I DONT WRITE OR READ HORROR IM JUST A GIRL anyways. this is for @stellaronhvnters's event that's happening rn! the prompt i ended up choosing was zombie, and i hope i brought it to life! i am actually so sad i wasn't allowed to write for sunday. can you believe this. SIGHS

taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina , @tragedy-of-commons , @cakechase , @kiiyoooo

Immune.

It is a word that Blade has heard time and time over again, and a word he has grown to hate.

Immune. Immortal.

A blessing, it is, to any other soul, especially in an apocalypse such as this. In a world where survival itself is a luxury, and comfort even moreso, what sane person wouldn’t wish for eternal life - or better yet, a life without fear of death?

They say he is lucky, the others. They say that he is blessed, and that whatever cruel deity overlooked this world must’ve found a sliver of fondness towards him.

They say that he is not human, the others. They say that he is something entirely else - not someone, no, something that cannot possibly fathom the pains of humanity, of a mortal life.

And so they say, why not let him bear the weight of a savior? After all, blessings must be used, and they cannot allow Blade to be selfish.

A pity, truly. They seemed to have forgotten, the others, that no matter how blessed he may seem, the deity is still cruel, and will not stand for shortcuts.

And so, Blade has long forgotten the meaning of the word “companion”.

Days pass like seconds in his constant weariness, and his body has become something akin to that of a clock; going through the motions, surviving but not living. His eyes bear witness to the downfall of his home, and yet he cannot see it - he cannot see anything; not the once-vivid colors of nature nor the once-bright streams of light that dare to warm his barely living skin.

He knows not where he is right now. All he knows is that he is injured, a gash on his arm that streams with useless blood. It will heal in due time, which is why…

“This is unnecessary,” he rasps.

If you had a name, he doesn’t remember it. Your face is blurred as everything else in this world is. You’re one of many, hundreds, that he has traveled with - why, he doesn’t know. Perhaps he feels some sort of obligation, like the ones the others have said long ago, to protect those who aren’t favored like he is.

But that isn’t Blade’s main concern. What is, is the bandages binding his wound, bleeding bandages that are wasted on someone of his constitution.

“I will heal,” he continues, his voice a repetitive drawl. “Save it for your own skin.”

And yet the bandages do not fall - in fact, they may have tightened.

“Your blessing allows you to recover from injuries and pain,” you reply, weariness wearing down your own voice, and yet there is a spark of indignation beneath the exhaustion. “It does not excuse you of pain.”

Blade scoffs. “I am not so weak as to kneel from such an insignificant wound.”

“But it hurts, doesn’t it?”

He blinks. Seizing his stunned silence, you continue.

“While your body takes the time to heal, it becomes prey to infections, parasites, all of which are painful and annoying to deal with, as I’m sure you know. It isn’t wise to rely on your blessings all the time.”

But it’ll only take a second. Gods work quick, after all, and their blessings quicker. He has no need for your bandages nor for your ointment.

He sighs.

“Do what you want.”

He doesn’t have the energy to argue much further. If this futile attempt at aiding him is what will calm you, then he will bear with it.

Blade rears his head slightly so that he can catch a glimpse of the wasteland that lies outside the broken-down shack you’ve temporarily taken refuge in. The streets are quiet - for now. But evidence of past destruction stains the road in warning: do not stay, do not yield. Do not think you are safe, for even a moment, because that is when they will strike.

And they will come, the victims and the assailants, with their rotting flesh and grey skin, and you will have but two options: survive and remember, or join them in their pack.

Both you and Blade are well aware of this fact, evident by the fact that you are still human. No one survives long in a world like this without some sort of wits on them, which makes your insistence on treating him all the more befuddling.

He inhales, and the stench of decay fills his nostrils.

They will be here soon.

He stands up abruptly, interrupting your work and leaving the bandage untied. With a grunt, he finishes the binding himself, cutting off the excess with his namesake.

“We can’t afford to dally,” he says gruffly as he pulls on his black coat once more, hiding the bandages and shielding his scars from past battles. “Come.”

He doesn’t wait for your answer. If you have any brains in there, you’ll follow.

It’s eerie, the way fog curls and billows like smoke as he wretches open the door. He cannot feel the wind, but he sees it well enough in the way it drags the fallen clouds across the deserted earth and tickles what little life is left in the leaves of wilted trees.

He hears your footsteps behind him, along with a little sigh, and he resumes his march.

Dried leaves crack under his boots. The air is quiet, as if he were in a vacuum chamber, too quiet. He wonders how long ago it had been since these dirtied streets were clean and covered not by leaves and dried flesh, but by the pit-pats of dozens of people, all on their next chapter of life.

The silence is deafening. His brows furrow slightly.

With a glance back at you, he confirms his suspicions. Your hackles are raised, and the grip on your weapon has switched from idle to offensive. You peer into the fog’s depths, scanning the premises for anything, live or dead, that might be hiding.

Neither of you dare to speak. Talking only sets them off.

But then again, if they are really here, there is little you can do to deter them.

They come in packs - at least, most of them do. Like the humans they used to be, they can be quite fickle. Most prefer each other’s company - if they can call it company, but there are always one or two or five who go on their own, and those either die quickly or become stronger than what is manageable.

His breath mists from his slightly parted lips.

He breathes in through his nose.

The air is sour.

He stops.

He listens.

And then he hears it - the crack of a leaf, crushed under a foot that is neither his nor yours.

Instinct seizes him and he whirls and grabs you and throws you out of the way. Steel meets flesh, carving it with the precision of a butcher and the life he used to have. He faintly registers cold blood as it coats his face in a splatter, its iron taste on the tip of his tongue as he shouts at you,

“Go!”

They come in packs, the creatures. As they swarm him like an infestation of houseflies, Blade begins to miss the eerie silence.

He plunges into a familiar, red-tinted haze. He slashes and slices and cuts through corpses of those who should’ve been put to rest. Rotted teeth bite into his arms (he briefly remembers your insistence on infection) and he kicks them off and his namesake soon follows.

Undying, the two of them are. They are more similar than the others like to admit, but truth is, they are both cursed by the deity. Never will they live, never will they die. Forever, they must exist in this world, until all that’s left of them is a memory.

For how much longer must he endure this? For how much longer must he fight?

He’s tired.

He wants to sleep.

But rest doesn’t come easy.

In the corner of his eye, another one of them lunges at him, falling teeth bared and eyes lolling from their sockets. He tugs his sword, but it is hindered - only slightly, embedded in the flesh of another. It’s a second he’ll lose, and a second that decides it all.

For a moment, he’s half tempted to let it bite.

But then comes a BANG! and then the distinctive smell of gunpowder and then his face is coated in body bits once more.

“What’re you doing?!” Now it’s your turn to grab his arm and pull him away. “There’s too many of them. Let’s get out of here!”

He clicks his tongue in annoyance. You’re loud, but you’ve got a point.

You shove him behind you and unclip one of the many grenades that hang from your belt. He knows this move well enough now, and therefore knows to avert his gaze once he hears the pin pulled and the bomb sails into the crowd of them.

BOOM!

The explosion is only just enough to startle their attackers and create enough of a divy in their ranks that you can push through. Blade leads the retreat, catching any stranglers with his sword while you keep your gun aimed behind you to ward away any pursuers.

He runs, as he always does. He scales hills with a speed that should’ve left his legs stiff and burning, leaps over canals that are flooded with pollution, and turns corners so fast that his neck might’ve broken. Only once or twice does he glance back to see if you are following. 

You are, although, you are slower. Something is weighing you down.

He runs, until he can no longer hear the groans of the deceased and the sourness fades away into crisp nothingness. The smoke-fog lolls back, and he thinks he finds peace, but then-

A weight crashes into his back, making him stumble. With a growl he doesn’t feel, he leers at you.

“What now-?”

He stills as he sees your state.

“Sorry, I just-” Your breath is ragged as you pant. You try to push yourself off, but your legs give out and you crash back into him. But that’s not what catches Blade off-guard.

You are like a second sun, with the heat searing through your skin and burning him through his clothes. His eyes widen as he fully takes you in.

Sweat drips off of you in raindrops. Your skin shivers in small, terrifying tremors. Your breath is short and rasp and choked and hollow, as if every inhale takes all of your energy. Your eyes are barely peeking open as you try to stay conscious.

Words die on the tip of his tongue.

You inhale again, gasping as you try to speak. You want to move, but your body fails you.

“S-”

“Quiet.” He turns you against his chest to assess the danger. Your chest heaves, and- there.

He’s seen it far too many times.

No. Not again.

How- When? When had it- no.

His brows furrow and his teeth grit.

There, tearing through your jacket and into your shoulder, ripped clothes and frayed threads, a bite, black, purple, bruised and bloody and slobbery. And in between, the beginnings of greying skin.

An infection.

His mind begins to race for the first time in years. Fear erupts in him like a sealed volcano as he fights himself on what to do with you.

He should kill you. Get it over with, make it quick before you suffer. There’s no coming back from a bite - you’re as good as dead now, so it wouldn’t be wrong, right? It wouldn’t be the first time he’s had to kill a fallen companion (if you could even call them that).

Yes, he should - he needs to do it. Now, while you’re still weak and vulnerable, while you still hold your humanity within your grasp.

In one hand, is you, a person whom he has only known for a month or so. In the other hand is the sword that has never left his side.

The choice is obvious.

Yet why can’t he make it?

“Bl…Blade,” you rasp. His glare pierces you. “I…”

“Don’t waste your energy,” he says quietly, almost gently. He doesn’t recognize his own voice.

“...this-” you cough suddenly, hacking phlegm for a few horrid seconds before you’re able to speak again. “This is- like a really bad time to say this, but… you smell really, really good. Like… like… like meat.”

He freezes.

Now. Do it, as you always have. Don’t think of it any longer.

Yet his feet are rooted and his hands are stone. Like a moth to a flame, his eyes can’t tear away from your face as you stagger, dirtied hands clutching at his dirtied coat. Your lidded eyes are hazy.

His namesake is heavy like a weight in his hand. Bandaged, calloused fingers grip and shift and relax and then tighten again around the handle as he struggles with a decision.

He takes too long.

You lunge at him with abrupt strength and tackle him to the ground. Blade chokes as gravel digs into his shoulders. Still-warm hands seize onto his broad shoulders with a grip so tight they might shatter. And above him, the sun halos your silhouette, basking you in shadow.

The grip on his shoulders trembles.

“Sor….” your language begins to slur, deteriorating into the common groan of them. “Hung….”

Blade doesn’t reply, too caught up in his mind and in witnessing your last moments as a human. Your mouth hangs open, breath and saliva dripping from it as the grey climbs up your skin in patches of mold.

“Hurs…” you mutter. “Hurs… so…”

Your hands leave his shoulders in favor of pulling down his collar in a manner that is hauntingly gentle. You pull, layers and layers of cloth down and away until his throat is fully exposed, Adam’s apple bobbing.

Fingers trace his throat, thumbs rubbing against it. Animalistic hunger overtakes your pupils, which have always smiled so kindly and tiredly at him, blurring all sentient thoughts away.

Blade squeezes his eyes shut. He breathes, feeling the air pool in his lungs.

And then, at last, he decides.

You scarcely resist as he switches your positions. He slams you to the concrete and raises his namesake, pointed tip situated just above your heart.

And then he sees you, as he always has.

And despite your clouded eyes, your dog-like breaths, and the mold growing on your skin, you smile softly.

But why?

Out of relief?

Out of gratitude?

Or… out of forgiveness?

Blade doesn’t know, nor does he ever find out, as he takes one last look at your life, soaking in all that remains of you and burning it into his memory.

And then he plunges, and the deity laughs once more.

And again, he loses the meaning of companion.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[tangents-within-tangents]

Thoughts on Echo as amputee/disability representation

First and foremost, I am not disabled or an amputee and I don’t claim to speak for those communities (and if I was I couldn't speak for everyone). What little I do know mostly comes from this youtube channel (@oakwyrm), this post, and other research I’ve done for my writing (and like one amputee I kinda knew in passing). By all means correct me and add to the conversation, I just have some thoughts I want to share because I haven’t really seen this discussed anywhere

Overview

So Echo is interesting. He is a triple amputee which is pretty rare in media. His disabilities come from extremely traumatic circumstances: injured in a near-death experience, imprisoned and dehumanized as an experiment with no autonomy over what happened to his body.

There are a few moments in the shows where Echo is treated… questionably. Like this bit where Rex uses him as an example of the Separatists' evils to convince the locals to fight back:

To be fair, yeah Echo’s treatment does prove that the Techno Union is not neutral like they claim. The modifications that everyone is gasping in horror at here obviously weren’t made with comfort and accessibility in mind, nor with Echo’s consent. But you still just want to be sure that “They took away his freedom, his humanity, they tried to turn him into a machine” is about using him as a living computer, not the fact that he is missing limbs. 

The Batch is also pretty insensitive toward him and his trauma imo, which is weird considering they've supposedly also faced discrimination for their mutations

Disabled people do have to deal with stuff like this in this day and age so I guess it can speak to those experiences. I think especially him being mistaken as a droid (and Hunter going along with it (bruh)) might resonate with some people. 

Aside from that stuff, Echo isn't really treated any differently as a character/person which is really good (as low of a bar as that is).

We get this moment in CW where Echo contemplates that yeah things are gonna be different now

While also (imo at least) showing that he is still the same person regardless, evidenced by the fact that he just echoed Rex :,) I also think it's significant that he joins the Bad Batch on his own terms and we're given a really emotional scene to specifically show that he's not just like 'lumped in with the other misfits' but that it is his choice to go where he feels his place is.

A lot of people, myself included, are disappointed that TBB didn't have more time to explore Echo's PTSD, but I think the one panic attack scene we did get is really good. Even thought it's minor it at least is an appropriate reaction from a guy who was medically tortured (which is more than I've come to expect from Star Wars shows lol)

And it's really sweet to see Omega showing Echo some empathy and consideration.

It would have been nice to see more of his adjustment period, and other side effects like chronic pain and maintenance, but there’s a lot of daily life stuff the show never had time for (i.e. we don’t know if he removed his prosthetics to sleep, but we also never saw him sleep anyway). His disabilities might take on a background role (much like the character himself sadly) but for the most part they aren’t invisible or erased, nor do they define his character and arc.

Physical Appearance

Okay this one is bit dicey, bc on the one hand, yes complaints that Echo’s paleness (most likely caused by burns from the explosion or chemical burns from the cryo-chamber) is whitewashing are totally valid. But I also think you can draw comparisons to real life conditions that affect pigmentation/complexion (like you know burns). So while I understand why a lot of fanart will depict him with his original skin tone and with hair, consider that there are real people who have to live with temporary or permanent changes to their appearance, and the idea of “fixing" him by making him look more like his old self can be problematic.

It's also interesting to note that Echo could act as a reversal of the 'disabled/disfigured = evil' trope. He's pale and bald and wears black and red, which is so often visually associated with villains, but we all know Echo is the bestest boy™

The Headpiece

Echo’s headpiece is interesting because within the show we don’t actually ever learn much about it (idk if there is more info in books or whatever bc i don’t have them so?). He didn’t have it in CW so we know it didn’t come from the Techno Union and therefore Echo probably had more choice with it. We don’t know its exact purpose but it’s most likely related to his scomping abilities. When he is hacking with his scomp in CW, before he has his headpiece, it’s clearly very mentally straining:

We don’t see him struggling like this in TBB once he does have it (though that could be bc he got more used to it over time). There doesn't seem to be much of an impact when he removes his headpiece in s3 ep14-15, except that he gets stuck in the ports every time he uses his scomp which is not something we’ve seen before: 

There might not be an exact real-world equivalent, but the headpiece is some kind of accessibility aid. It means that someone specifically designed a device to help him adapt to the changes the Techno Union made, as well as a helmet that integrates it. It’s removable and visually very present, much like a cochlear implant would be. (A lot of people actually headcanon it to act partially as a hearing aid, since it makes sense that Echo’s hearing would have been damaged in the explosion, but there isn't really any indication of this in canon.) The headpiece is never really acknowledged in the show, but I think that's a good thing. It's something he needs/wants and it just exists, completely normalized, and that's pretty cool 👍

Legs

Sigh... So from the very first episode of TBB I was really disappointed that the animation team or whoever completely visually erased Echo’s prosthetic legs (I think we all were, honestly, if fanart is anything to go by). It’s one thing when he’s in armor because he would probably want to protect his prosthetics, but we literally see him in his blacks and there is no indication whatsoever that he lost his legs even though it was not left up for debate at all in CW:

Like ??????!?

This is just really strange to me! Idk what went on behind the scenes with this decision but I don’t really see why it would be that much harder to animate or anything since it’s 3D and they've done it before. We do see some pretty sophisticated cybernetic technology in Star Wars canon that mimics real limbs:

But Luke’s fancy hand is technically 20ish years from now, so Anakin and Maul are more of a representation of what level we could expect here

So yeah, for no apparent reason, his leg amputation is effectively, visually and narratively nonexistent. Which is not great 👎

Arm!

The scomp on the other hand (uh lol!) is the complete opposite and I kinda love it!

At first I, like many others, thought it was a bit odd that they didn’t give Echo a prosthetic arm. Losing hands is basically a Star Wars tradition at this point, so robotic arms/hands are well established within the worldbuilding: 

We aren’t necessarily given a canon reason for why Echo doesn't get a cybernetic arm (again unless it's in some lore book I haven’t read, sorry). General fanon explanations I’ve seen are that he either couldn’t because the Techno Union wired the scomp too far into his nervous system, and/or the resources to give him one were deemed too expensive for a clone (what about his legs tho?), or that he chose not to, usually because he thought the scomping was useful. 

Regardless, I actually really love this choice (and it's the whole reason I made this post), because here's the thing: There’s a lot of problematic tropes out there that either erase/cure disabilities or compensate them with perks (like how pretty much any blind character is actually not blind by some sort of magic power). With amputees that is done with robotic arms. The character is still an amputee or course, and there is still value in that representation, if this story from Mark Hamill that makes me tear up is anything to go by:

but for the most part these characters function like anyone else, just with a limb that looks a little different. It’s no more than a video game skin, an able-bodied actor with a green screen glove. It “cures” the disability, or it actually makes the character even stronger than usual: 

It usually makes sense within the world of the story, but the reason it’s not so great in my opinion is that in the real world we just do not have technology anywhere close to that yet. Prosthetics can more or less replace any mobility from lost legs, but not for all the complexities of a hand (and even if they could the average person wouldn’t be able to afford it).

So

I think it's actually really super cool that Echo’s scomp bypasses the canonically-established amputee erasure and functions much like a stump would irl. He integrates it into his movements and everyday life and it’s (as far as I know) a lot closer to an everyday amputee’s experience. 

It doesn’t define his character, it doesn’t hold him back, he lives a full life, the other’s don’t treat him any differently, and he’s still a total karking badass 

The only additional thing is that he sometimes uses it as a weapon (which given his story, I think it’s cool to see him taking back autonomy in a way, and we only see that like twice)

And also the scomping, which could be seen as the 'added/compensating superpower' trope. But narratively it's no different than if he was plugging in with a hacking gadget of some kind (he didn't necessarily "need" to lose his arm for it) and it’s not like Echo is completely defined by this skill. Personally, I think it's well worth the positives of him actually having a visible and realistically impactful amputation. 

I see a lot of posts or comments out there that say stuff like “how come Echo doesn’t get a hand?” or fanworks that do give him one and I just think it’s a bit of a shame. If he did get a robotic hand, it just would have disappeared the same way his legs and Anakin’s arm did (aside from that one time he got yoinked by a magnet). When Echo did “get a hand” in the last two episodes there were comments like “yay he finally got a hand! but it doesn’t even work” but I was actually so relieved that it didn’t! Bc for one thing that wouldn’t make any sense, he grabbed it off a droid, it wasn’t designed to implement with his scomp, that would be really complicated. But more importantly because it again refused to erase/cure his disability! It functioned like a real-world cosmetic prosthetic (useless beyond appearance) which is exactly what he needed it for, so that he could blend in better with his disguise.

And he continually took it off throughout the episode and ditched it at the end. He only used it for the necessity of a stealth mission, he doesn’t feel the need to visually “fit in” in his daily life. 

And, last but very much not least, he made a dad joke and from my intel that is very accurate representation!

TLDR: Echo’s scomp is actually really cool from an amputee representation perspective, especially within Star Wars, and I think that deserves some appreciation 

[mask-of-prime]

VG Bonus Art: Friendly Fire

Synopsis: Vitani is overwhelmed from trying to wrangle her disputing Lion Guard and tending the needs of on-edge Pridelanders terrorized by foes. On top of that, Vitani and Nuka's spirits have been fused for far too long until the possession becomes a parasitic inconvenience. The Fiercest, highly stressed and agitated, has been fueling her newly-found Fire Roar to the point where she can't control it, and neither can Nuka. At some point, the fire evolves into destructive, molten lava -- a new power she'd discovered on her own. Will her Lion Guard find a way to extract Nuka's spirit and cool her tumultuous temper?

It's, well... pretty past Halloween, now, but it is a special day nonetheless, it's the 5th Anniversary of when Vitani and her pals officially became the new Lion Guard (Return to the Pride Lands was aired on TV on November 3rd, September 2nd was their DisneyNOW/WatchTLG release). So I guess I'm celebrating the anniversary of them becoming a team by... tearing them apart...?

I have no idea if this would be an AU or if I can actually manage to fit this into the Vitani's Guard storyline somehow. Come to think of it, it kinda makes me imagine if Nuka's spirit would've remained within Vitani the first time they ever fused, like if a prolonged possession lasted several episodes/chapters (I wanna say the duration of Shouting Match to Speed Run?) until it became too much for both of them, disaster ensues in a manner typical of tropey werewolf episodes of cartoons, or at worst, an Akira type of disaster in which aggravated emotions and emotionally-charged supernatural powers fight each other to make for some gruesome body horror visuals (in this case, becoming a living volcano).

The lava dripping from Vitani's mouth lowkey reminds me of rabies, maybe this constitutes as an Infection AU like what everyone's been doing lately? lol

The title is a pun on the term "friendly fire" meaning to kill or harm a soldier who's on your side (Shabaha here seems to have been on the receiving end of that). I became aware of the term after the release of a Linkin Park song of the same name.

[gloomyteddybear]

dark fantasy concept

introduction

tw/cw: blood, body horror, mild suggestive, fucked up morals and content that comes with the dark fantasy genre, dehumanization(?);

isekai modern-reader into 'ye olde darke-medieval-fantasy' but instead of into the body of a human to re-create the industrial revolution. put them into the body of a very cryptid/monstrous version of a vamp

at first mc starts like rlly feral, jumbly-instinct thoughts. but as they begin to drink more blood they get more grounded. so basically hunger = madness or smth.

there's also gamer/leveling up/system adjacent things. but only for mc. where it basically counts how much kills they have and it rewards them with skills and its also kinda like a countdown to how many liters of blood they have left until they go bonkers.

since it's the medieval times, technology ain't that good, or most of anything for that matter. it's bad.

since mc is a spoiled city mouse, they rlly want to have modern commodities that only rich people at this time gets. like frequent baths, good infrastructure and basic plumbing. fancy shit like that.

they kinda get obsessed w/ it since its literally the only thing that's familiar and comforting to them so they try rlly hard to get it. either by killing rich people and stealing their houses or building their own spooky mansion by becoming a noble or smth.

it's kinda like those tropes of rich pretty vampire that gets absolutely monstrous w/o blood. with the bright eyes and growling with sharp teeth.

mc really hates when they get feral cause it makes them feel like a mindless monster, not unlike those that gets killed by hunters and mercenaries. so they cope by being as 'civil/cultured/refined' as possible.

absolutely disgusted at the idea of drinking blood, so they keep gaslighting themself into thinking it's wine. prolly has tarps or smth on their table and fancy glasses.

they often come off as arrogant or stand-offish in the 'don't touch me with ur dirty hands peasant' way, but in reality they're just... a paranoid myso/germaphobe.

they're really fancy, imagine ye stereotypical vamp aesthetic but in sleeping robes. just, like, a really comfortable vampire.

and they have really terrifying non-romanticized features as a nod to the feral-cryptid side they rlly want to hide. like the trope of vampire having tapedum lucidum  or unique teeth marks (y's in leeches or patterns)---

---not those sharp and needle-like teeth for puncture that will leave delicate dot-scarring, perfect for symbiosis, self-control and donations. but textured teeth that's obvious that there's no way to stop the bleeding even if you wanted to, meant for gouging and death. kinda like bullet shrapnel or twisted daggers.

but it won't be complete w/out character interactions.

❤︎ mercenary / monster hunter (placeholder: montague )

>kinda like the witcher or mando at first glance. stoic, gruff guy, very tanky but somehow is very stealthy. has a dog trained to smell blood-trails and harmed prey, it is very rotund 'cause of treats. it's name is whinny (a pun, win, whiny, wine(both the drink and the olde english for friend)) like it's owner, the dog find you sus but later becomes attached to you.

>tendencies probably started out in pity, 'damn is this a baby vamp? hopeless. guess i gotta feed them so they get strong enough to be a honorable adversary'. love a guy with a code of honor but dubious morality. but then he got too into it? he finds the fact that a 'monster' has more of a moral compass than him interesting (ur human kill count being lower, disliking torture, etc) lowkey wants to fix you but in a making you better at murder way.

>has a protective dynamic w/ reader but only later on (monty basically wanted them dead lol), brings them lots of prey to feed on (mostly of the bipedal variety, wink wink nudge nudge), if ya refuse to feed there's definitely going to be some tough-love to encourage a healthy diet.

>can be either romantic or familial dynamic. but there's definitively a touch of fear/intimidation on either party.

❤︎ honored guest / your good friend (placeholder: aldwin )

>is either a himbo or really 'cowardly'. the first guy you ever met that you didn't outright attempt-to or kill. kinda milk-toast at first glance. but the only guy you know can't and won't kill you. you often contemplate turning him into a thrall to keep you company for as long as you 'live', (he isn't that opposed to the idea) but often back out because you still have modern sensibilities, mind control bad.

>you often baby him, both in fear of making him scared of you (the smell is fearousel not actual fear) and also because technically he is one compared to you. that's a grown man, he's not actually scared of your mansion he just wants to be near you 24/7.

>sometimes you use him as a juice box, but only after hosting extravagant dinner parties whenever he visits (which is often, on both), making sure he eats enough to replace the blood and too drunk to feel pain. it was actually his idea, managed to convince himself that the dinner is for replenishing and not because you want to celebrate him. the actual feeding is awkward, you refuse to use your teeth and used one of the dinner knifes.

>friend zone/ one sided. mc is in denial/deeply oblivious. can be read as codependent (emotionally).

❤︎ the scholar / the monster doctor (placeholder: boris )

>doctor/physician guy. he has glasses :), someone who takes ur ideas seriously, sees you as a kindred soul, both in the studies and about your nature. has a whole jekyll and hyde situation, his jobs is kinda the reason why he goes awoo in the night. he's surprisingly very soft? mild mannered, polite, a proper gentleman. (whinny hates him lmao)

>kinda a goldigger, first approached you with the intent of having you sponsor his 'research' (monster biology) but later decided to have a collab w/ you. you still treat him as kinda of a sugarbaby still, reserving a special place in the manor to serve as his lab and giving him lots of artifacts and equipment. you mostly do it to see if he has a cure for vampirism (aside from a very painful death), but it's nice to see a very chivalrous man get flustered when it's him being spoilt.

>the wolf side is the complete opposite of his demeanor, feral, bloodthirsty and animalistic, it attacks and destroys everything in it's wake, it cannot harm you due to your strength, but the intent is obvious. it's a very harrowing affair filled with angst, (except the part where you're prepping for the full moon and needing to chain him with silver), you know what's its like to lose control and hurt someone innocent so you always try to do damage control for his sake.

>kinda puts you in a pedestal, sees you as someone out of his league.

❤︎ the oldest servant / elder-vampire butler  (placeholder: aldair )

>kinda older looking in appearance but still pretty-boy enough(? somehow). you didn't turn him, he came with the mansion. he used to be a thrall to someone else but now he's a under your reign. has beef with everyone except monty (prolly teaming to make you less hopeless), specially hates aldwin. he's less alfred, more sebastian/claude or ron molan(TCF).

> it's not exactly known why he's loyal, considering he wanted to kill his previous sire and you don't treat him any better (by your standards, vampire culture is weird). maybe it was the way you just... 'subdued' it and allowed him the pleasure of killing his torturer? causing some weird begrudging-debt turned devotion, that or the fact that you are not a pureblood---or at least act like one.

> kinda thinks ur a spoiled wimp but still spoils you. way too knowledgeable abt your habits, you stretch out a hand and he's already putting a glass of 'wine' between your fingers. you shift in your seat? he's already getting you a footstool (mostly an unfaithful servant or a prisoner), you accidentally tear out someone's throat? he's already collecting their blood in bottles, cleaning the crime scene and creating your alibi.

> you're deff being primed for something. maybe related to the dozens of bottles (and sacrifices) in your cellar.

[always-sleeepy-headd]

Uhhhh HEADCANONS ABOUT SANS AU GO

Nightmare probably calls Cross sexy unironically but not in front of him and Killer tells Cross but Cross won't believe him hehe

Swap def joined the Stars bc he thought Dream was hot (Depends on the AU LOL)

The entire council has been trying to figure out what the stars relationship is bc they'll get into a fight over cheese and then flirt for like seventeen minutes until they remember they were fighting over cheese and continue to fight over cheese

Swap and Error are ALWAYS best friends.

I feel like Error likes to hop back and forth with which side he supports, (in AUs with the balance he goes to the side that's losing currently) like he knows where both the Star Sanses base and the Bad Sanses base are.

Cross has a really bad spying problem, like, super bad. You'll be yapping to him and he'll bring up an ex you had 7 years ago like it was a normal thing for him to know about.

Nightmare thought Killer was crazy until he met Ink (TRUCE AU!!) 

No like seriously, Ink pulls so much bullshit and Dream and Ink are just like, fine with it??? TWELVE COWS???

Cross being scared of cows is completely unknown until one noms onto his shirt during a mission and he SHRIEKED.

Killer now thinks it's funny to give him cow shaped gifts all the time, while Cross isn't scared of those he finds it incredibly frustrating.

Cross is a people pleaser, you won't catch him saying to no to ANYBODY.

Dream is... really, really, scary. Like not tradisional scary, scary like I'll tell your mom what you said on october 15 2021 scary.

Swap has no gag reflex, and I know what you're thinking you nasty bois, anyway Dream has a video of Swap deep throating a pickle.

Swap is vegan, not cause he doesn't like meat he regularly eats vegetarian meatballs but because he really hates the idea of animals being in enclosed spaces for their whole life.

Dust always smells like cigarettes but whenever Nightmare is like, I told you no smoking allowed?? Nightmare can never find any cigarettes on him or in his room or ANYWHERE. (he looked literally everywhere including Killer and Horror's room bc Killer would do smth like that and Dust and Horror are like besties)

Cross is Dust's dealer, does he feel a little guilty? Yeah. Does he truly care? No. (He has slowly started to wane Dust off of his addiction by lowering the amount of nicotine in the cigarettes he gets.)

Cross is vegetarian bc he just doesn't like the taste of meat lol it makes him feel sick.

In truce AUs Swap, Cross, and Killer immediately get along- like scary fast.

Nightmare cannot for the life of him figure out the relationship of the stars in truce AUs and I imagine the monsters in the council would like kinda bond with him over that LOL

Horror smells like steak and Cross gags half the time he's around him and Horror feels so bad lol 

Why does Horror smell like steak you ask? Who knows.

Swap has little glow in the dark stars arranged to look like actual constellations on his ceiling.

Dream and Swap stargaze a LOT, like more than sleeping, it's actually becoming a problem lol like Dream won't die from lack of sleep but he functions WAY better with sleep and Swap has been forced into naps by his own body before. (Passing out 😍😍😍)

Dust and Cross have the most wholesome relationship they're so cute like they'll literally cuddle.

Horror and Dust have a similar relationship but Horror and Dust are still much different bc Horror is like... bold I guess you could say but Cross is like... not. (He's shy boi)

Killer and Cross are like, in way different relationship though, Killer is a troublemaker and Cross is a rule follower but Cross also breaks under peer pressure so they end up being bad and getting into trouble which Nightmare is so confused about and usually is just like 'Killer you are SUCH a bad influence what.'

Cross and Error have a good relationship, like they're friends and Nightmare doesn't understand how Cross did that.

Dream and Cross either HATE each other or are best friends there is no universe where they could be neutral about each other for more than 3 weeks.

Killer... has a flirting problem.

Dust and Killer's relationship mostly consists of fighting and accusations but also that's just how they show love to each other.

Okay, so I have another thing on Cross and Dust, basically Dust either thinks Cross is self centered and stuck up or he thinks he's not fit for the bad sanses based on his mercy (both of those end in the earlier headcanon hehe)

Ink and Cross probably become friends again rather quickly because Cross can't stay mad at him for whatever reason but they do have an emotional reconcile 

Nightmare and Ink have a funny relationship lol basically Nightmare is kinda terrified of Ink and Ink thinks Nightmare is fun to mess with and usually that ends with Dream trying not to laugh his ass off while Nightmare rants to him about how scary Ink is. (truce AU)

Nightmare is concerned for Swap lol like fr tho, Swap is like kinda not good at coping with things and he does it in a bad way.

AAAA anyway I supposably have ADHD because it's HEREDITARY APPARENTLY

Yeah lol I thought I had it before and now I'm almost positive sobbing

[zh-lele]

Oasis Part 1

In a hostile environment or in a sequence of unpleasant situations, an oasis provides pleasure.

▪︎Pairing: vampire!Doyoung x club dancer!fem reader x vampire!Johnny

▪︎Genres: supernatural, horror, smut, romance if you want to call it like that (it's not).

▪︎Warnings: mature themes; explicit sexual content, drugs and alcohol involved, guns, violence, death scenes and mentions of it, and some gore scenes. MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!

▪︎Wordcount for Part 1: ~16.8k words.

Author's note: hey everyone 👀 it's been ages. Writing this fic got out of hand lol so I split it into parts. This is all plot building 😭 more is coming. Also, the characters are sick to their heads so none of this is alright ofc and it's a twisted fic so if you are uncomfy don't read it! I rlly don't wanna bother anyone. Read pairings, genre and warnings before proceeding. And enjoy this first part! More is coming your way. Here's a playlist to kinda set the mood if you'd like. Tysm!!! 🖤

Who sees them walking around the city if they are all blind? They hold hands; something speaks between their fingers, sweet tongues lick the moist palm, run through the phalanges, and above is the night full of eyes.

01: words that will satisfy me

Lightning split the sky as the rain lashed the roof of the old bus, the drops seeping through the leaks, wetting the worn leather of its seats and spreading on the floor. You were lucky that public transportation was running that night and under those conditions, even more so considering that you had to be on time for your show at the casino—you couldn't afford to lose another night of work to torrential rains, even if it meant walking for forty minutes under the water from your house to the luxurious building.

The dirty streets of Seoul were already empty by the time you got off the bus, except for the old man you couldn't escape from even a single night arriving at the casino. While he wasn't inside, spending what was probably his last life savings on alcohol, drugs, and women (like most of the men you saw every night), he was living on the outskirts; under the big billboard of neon lights and on the fine and cold marble of the entrance serving as his refuge, along with a bed made of cardboard and an old, dirty mattress. Yuta kicked him out every night, especially the moment you arrived and he remembered the old man's presence due to the nasty comments he would give you, as you started up the stairs and toward the big golden doors.

Tonight was no different. Yuta left his position at the entrance as fast as he saw you coming and felt the old man open his mouth—although he didn't have a chance to say anything. As if Yuta could guess his intentions, he was in charge of throwing him in the hands of two high-security guards to the street and under that torrential rain; the homeless man's few belongings getting completely drenched, and causing the man to wail as he wandered off in search of a different place to spend the night. Only a series of what you assumed were complaints and curses came out of Yuta's mouth, in his native tongue.

Yuta lit a cigarette and didn't bother to return to his position. A quick wave of his hands was enough to have another man replace him, while he smoked under the cover of the water, resting momentarily from another night enriching his pockets in the largest casino in the city.

The look he gave you as you waited for this other man to read your work card was hostile as if Yuta could guess your intentions too. And he put you on alert for a moment.

He opened his mouth to speak. A cold ran through your whole body at the same time that lightning struck right on the building across the street, highlighting the silhouette of the Japanese above the violent discharge. He squeezed then opened his eyes, already too irritated by all the interruption, to continue:

"Go upstairs. Dry yourself up and put on some other clothes. Doyoung wants to see you."

"But my show starts at two o'clock."

"Just do as I say."

When the man at the entrance returned your card indicating that you could now enter, you hurried to walk on the red carpet, passing between round tables and banquettes padded with burgundy velvet. The smell of alcohol mingled with that of fine perfumes and that of the money, scattered on each table among glasses, cards, and chips, and also kept in the pockets and wallets of the rich.

The back pocket of your black imitation of leather pants buzzed, so you reached for an old phone, its broken screen showing a message from Soyeon where she attached a picture of a ladder; the red neon lights of a "V.I.P." sign shone above it. You wondered why she was at the entrance to the third floor—an exclusive place that humans like you and Soyeon rarely frequented. So you quickly typed a message questioning what that photo meant before going downstairs.

The club was located below the casino and just above the parking lot. The stairs were marked with neon green arrows indicating floor -1 if you went down—your designated place of work. It was a very different world from the casino. While above the gold metal-edged bars gleamed in the warm light of huge chandeliers, below the place could barely be defined; cigarette smoke obscured what little vision the red lights dangling from the ceiling provided, and the confines of the club were lost in darkness, making it easy to get lost in that dive for hours.

The floor was slippery from the amount of alcohol that had already been spilled throughout the night, and you had to be careful not to trip or injure yourself on a dropped glass bottle. It was hard to move through the bodies that wouldn't stop dancing and pushing and gasping for breath as the club got more and more crowded. But still, you made it backstage and to the dressing rooms where you and the dancers were getting ready for the shows every night.

You got inside in a hurry, making one of the boys that shared the stage with you get up from an old black leather couch and offer his help. "Girl, you need me to do something for you?"

"Please," you begged while looking at him through the mirror. "Can you get my suit and my boots?"

Without wasting a second, you started working on your makeup. Red and black eyeshadow that accentuated your gaze, and a lipstick that was about to run out after so many nights of shared use—bloody red is what said on the side of its cover.

The boy returned shortly after with your clothes in one hand and a glass of liquor in the other. He lit a cigarette inside the small space while you changed, his eyes following your every move. Only the music coming from the club filled your ears until you opened the door ready to go out and he questioned you.

"Where are you going? There's still five until the show starts."

"Yeah, I know but…" you hesitated on telling him. It wasn't a secret amongst the human workers that you and Doyoung kind of had a thing—they knew you fucked from time to time, but you had no clue why he wanted to see you at that moment.

Doyoung managed everything and everyone at the club and knew your schedule like the palm of his hand. Work had always been his top priority as well, so you knew for sure he wasn't going to make you show up late on stage. Still, you didn't want to raise suspicions about anything, didn't want people to talk too much.

The boy—that was named Ten and was the second nicest person you knew as soon as you started working at the club—raised his brows at you, growing impatient, making gestures with both his hands for you to keep talking.

"Doyoung wants to see me," you finally concluded. "I don't know what he wants, but it'll be quick."

Ten only hummed and reached inside of his platforms, taking out a small blade and putting it in front of your face. His breath, which smelled like mint and whiskey, brushed your face while he talked. "Be careful." And he hid the blade inside one of your boots.

Ten had been working at the club for years and knew vampires very well. Even though none of the vamps in charge had ever harmed him, he couldn't say the same for the customers who came from the outside. For this reason, he didn't trust them, and he always reminded you to handle yourself with special care, especially when he found out about you and Doyoung.

You gave him a nod along with a sympathetic smile and closed the door behind you on your way to Doyoung's office.

A long corridor connected the backstage dressing room to a mezzanine at the other end of the club. Suspended in the air from one side to the other, its tinted glass walls stretched to the roof of the club. Doyoung kept his office lit to a minimum, and the red lights outside it blocked all vision through the glass and into his office. This allowed him to have absolute control of everything that happened in his club, and to give orders without even having to get up from his chair.

You knocked on his door and looked above, at the corner of the corridor, letting the camera focus on your face. The door buzzed, indicating you were good to come inside.

Doyoung was sitting in his green velvet upholstered chair, facing the glass walls. A suit almost as pale as his skin accentuated his defined figure, even in that position. He turned to you, a welcoming smile adorning his face, and extended his left hand, the one not occupied with a glass feeding his vampire tendencies, inviting you to get closer.

He called your name before holding your hand and bringing it to his lips. A soft kiss on your knuckles, which left them stained with a slightly thick red liquid. "I'll be brief since I don't want to delay us in our tasks, but I had to tell you this in person."

He set his glass down on his desk and moved you even closer, positioning yourself between his legs. He looked over your body with his gaze and dared to open the fine, shiny cloth robe that covered it. He caressed the curves of your hip and passed the palms of his hands over the micro tulle that covered your abdomen until he stopped below your breasts.

"You will dance on the third-floor stage tonight, along with Soyeon," he finally said, his clear eyes piercing your dark gaze. "Whatever happens there, you must tell me. Don't forget who you work for."

You swallowed dry. So Soyeon was at the entrance to the third floor because the two of you would be working there that night. Dancing for the vampires. Anxiety quickly took over your body, and you felt your hands and feet start to sweat. You were lucky Doyoung couldn't notice that temperature change, or he would have given you away.

"Won't you be there with the rest of them?"

This was not going according to your plan.

He denied it with his head. His hands began to move again, caressing your back and reaching the edge of your see-through dress. He lifted it, you felt the cold on your skin, and he squeezed both buttcheeks, awakening the lust within you.

He took a breath of air that inflated his chest, causing the emeralds that hung rimmed in gold around his neck to rise and fall. He moved you at his will until you were sitting on top of him, your sex barely covered by a thong that resembled black leather in contact with his bulge, and you had to make an enormous effort not to forget the plan and take him right then and there. Getting rid of Doyoung would be much more difficult than you had imagined.

"Don't forget who you must be loyal to."

02: this is not a threat

It is important to create eye contact with the audience when you are performing. That was never a problem at the club, with its stage right in front of Doyoung's office. And while you couldn't see him from your place, you knew that he was always watching you from above, so your gaze was directed most of the time towards his tinted windows. He helped your concentration and allowed you to focus on the dance. On the third floor stage, however, you felt quite lost; too many things happened there.

In the club, just a large group of mortals huddled under the smoke and red lights, paying little attention to what was happening onstage. In the vampires' cave, distractions were everywhere. The white lights that illuminated the stage blinded you from time to time but still allowed you to make out the scenes. Vampires sipping drinks at the bars, smoking around a game of poker, passing through heavy velvet curtains, going in and out of small cabins with humans who had a job other than yours. Some came staggering out of there, like drunk on something and wiping their lips, while others just came out arranging their clothes to resume their activities around a table or on the small dance floor.

But despite everything that was distracting, you were forced to make eye contact. You felt a presence, someone's gaze heavy on your figure, hidden in a dark corner of that exclusive area. The lights spun illuminating him for a split second, but it was long enough for his amber eyes to finally find yours. From that moment on, you felt attracted to the man as if you were magnets. You went down the stairs of the stage and walked between the chairs and tables, making some of the vampires who hadn't paid attention to you yet turn to look at you. Not for a second could you lower your gaze from his or focus on anything other than dancing for that man.

He was sitting in the middle of the round table smoking a cigarette, looking a little too relaxed for your liking. His white shirt was slightly ripped, revealing a barbed wire tattoo that stretched from clavicle to clavicle on his chest; below, on his right pectoral, a spider tattoo. Resting the weight of his body on a semi-extended arm holding a cane, looking too vampire-like under your eyes. His tattoos seemed to end on his hands: a floral engraving on the back that contrasted with the phrase on his fingers: be afraid.

You got on that rounded table on your hands and knees, not caring about whatever game was going on between the rest of the men and the women who sat with him. You wanted to seduce him, that you knew. And he didn't seem to mind, because when a tall, blonde guy got up to protest, this man silenced him with a simple gesture of his hand. You thought it had to be a common thing amongst these vampires—they held so much power they didn't even need to use many words. So you danced the rest of your choreography for him, felt and touched your body as if your hands were his until the music ended and the lights turned on again.

Reality came down to you as if you were descending from the sky at miles per hour, and you landed on the ground in your black platforms after getting off the table. You felt incredibly out of place, yet an incessant throbbing between your naked legs and this man's gaze on you was sending your mind into a spiral. You had no idea what just had happened.

His deep voice cut through the air in that cave—like lightning from the storm outside the casino. A chill ran down your back for the second time that night.

"No one tells Doyoung about this."

But he didn't mean it for the rest of the people seated with him—he knew they would remain silent.

He meant it for you.

Soyeon appeared next to you with her hands full of bills, and she began to push you in the opposite direction while addressing this man very politely.

"Please excuse us, sir." But it sounded highly strange to you, she didn't talk like that to any of the vampires, not even to Doyoung. "Thank you very much, sir. Ladies, gentlemen." She bowed and you followed automatically before the two of you started walking behind the stage.

"Who was that?" you asked once the two of you were alone, inside the luxurious dressing room of the third floor.

"Are you out of your mind?"

You saw her undress hurriedly and change into her regular clothes, leaving the little dress–the same one you were wearing—inside her backpack, then starting whipping out all her makeup to re-do it into something different, more relaxed.

"I kinda felt like it, yeah," you finally replied, after processing how you unashamedly danced in front of that man and all of his friends, being so evident that you wanted him—as if you didn't have a thing with Doyoung. As if you weren't the little dumb human fucking the man in charge and everyone knew about it. "Who was that man?" you insisted.

"Seo Youngho," she hissed and looked at you with narrowed eyes as if it weren't obvious. "He owns the casino. He owns like, ninety percent of the clubs left in Seoul, actually. Friends call him Johnny."

Your plan was to become one of them, then kill them all and keep the fortune. Survive the fate that seemed inevitable. Defeat the decay of the world and humanity through that eternal immortality, as the vampires had done through each of the crises in history.

You were shocked, your face losing all color and your legs almost giving out when you realized that all this time you were after the wrong man.

When Doyoung hired you, he made it seem like he was the real leader. And everything seemed to indicate that he was. Because you knew Yuta, you knew how the rest treated that vampire—but it wasn't half the respect they had for Doyoung. From the countless nights you'd spent with him and been woken by his phone at any hour of the morning, you knew that most of the responsibilities fell on him as well. The fact that it was the first time you were hearing about this Seo Youngho after almost half a year working at the casino only made the situation more unbelievable.

"And you danced for him," Soyeon continued, her expression between a mixture of shock and amusement. "Holy shit. You literally felt all of yourself in front of his eyes."

"I know," you recognized with difficulty, taking your head in your hands while you sat in the chair; soft and padded compared to the garbage where you sat every night, in the dressing room on floor -1 "Please stop reminding me, it was embarrassing."

"It wasn't embarrassing!" she contradicted, "It was fucking hot. You never do that shit when we dance at the club."

"Of course not!" You straightened your back to look at her and denied with a disgusted face. "I don't want to seduce any of the bodies that frequent the club. Those are disgusting."

"Right, you want to seduce vampires." She pointed one of her makeup brushes at you, and golden dust flew across the room. A complicit smile adorned her face. "You want to seduce handsome, sexy, and rich vampires. You'll be collecting them? I know you have one already."

There wasn't any malice in her voice, none that you could notice. She left it there and went back to stand in front of the mirror to apply a clear lip gloss that made her face even more attractive. She wasn't looking for an explicit answer. Even if she only wanted to mess with you, you still weren't convinced you could trust her—or anyone inside that casino.

And that's why you were scared. Scared to death that she or anyone else could tell Doyoung what happened earlier. Because yes, he wasn't the most powerful of them, yet he could still do whatever he wanted to you and no one would even go looking after you. That's how the dynamic worked. That's why it could be a vampire's world.

Youngho's words resonated inside your head as if he was whispering in your ear.

"Youngho said something when our number ended," you decided to confess. Maybe out of fear, to test your luck and try moving in this new direction, or to risk your plan along with your life. Soyeon turned around and raised his brows at you, expectant of your next words. "He said not to tell Doyoung."

A knock on the door exalted the both of you. Soyeon looked in the direction of the sound, then down at you, same spot on the couch. She smiled with her lips sealed together, the tips of her thumb and forefinger joined and moving from left to right over her smile. She winked at you after walking to open the dressing room's door.

A rather young man leaned out from the other side, a bottle of champagne in a cooler and two glasses in hand. His bright red eyes quickly scanned the room and settled on your figure. "Youngho wants you at his table," he said. "Both of you." And he moved his eyes to Soyeon, who quickly looked at you with an excited smile, then turned back to the boy. "He also sends this. Says to enjoy yourself and get there whenever you feel ready."

The young vampire left the champagne and the glasses in Soyeon's hands after she greeted him with a polite 'thank you', and closed the door.

"Very good," she turned to you, ready to open the bottle. "I also want to go hunting for some handsome, sexy, and rich vampires."

—

Sitting on the velvety cushions and sharing a table with the vampires you learned that everything you thought you knew about them was actually nothing. Only two of them were the most talkative: Donghyuck, the young vampire they sent with the champagne bottle to get you and your friend, and Taeyong, a slightly older-looking vampire you often saw with Yuta or Doyoung. While Donghyuck concentrated mostly in annoying his superiors and catching Soyeon's attention, Taeyong was surprisingly kind to you, trying to engage conversation about various topics.

"I was studying in Tokyo to be a designer when I met Yuta," Taeyong said while pouring himself another glass of blood. "We met at a fashion exhibition. I remember he was wearing a three piece suit that looked very expensive. He introduced himself, Nakamoto Yuta," Taeyong made his own impression of the Japanese vampire you knew from greeting him every day at the casino's entrance. And it was on point, his deep voice and accent rolling out of Taeyong's lips as if he had been observing the vampire for an eternity now. "He liked my work and said he wanted to support me financially. You can imagine what I thought it was about."

"Thought he was offering to be some kind of sugar daddy?" You asked him, taking a drag from a joint and passing it back to Taeyong.

Taeyong nodded his head. "I thought I had to sacrifice my body for it," he said, then paused for a moment to reflect on his words. "I mean, it's not like I didn't like him. He was actually really hot," he finished in a whisper meant for your human ears only.

The white haired vampire laughed it off, looking a bit nervous after such a confession. Yet Taeyong's laugh was adorable and contagious, much so that it distracted you from his red-stained lips and teeth every time you saw his mouth open to a big smile.

"But I was really, really wrong about him–"

"I could hear you talking shit about me all the way from the first floor."

That deep voice characteristic of Yuta cut off Taeyong's story. His eyes found the Japanese approaching the vampire table, behind your field of vision. However, his presence sent a shiver down your spine—the idea that any of them could be listening to what you were talking about when you least expected it horrified you, and it was enough to bring you back to reality.

You weren't there because they were nice and wanted you to know more about them, to become close. They must have been using you somehow, and you had to find out their true intentions as quickly as possible so that they couldn't take advantage of you, but you could take advantage of them.

"Yuta, you're so nosy!" Taeyong accused him, pointing his index finger at him and then crossing his arms, half indignant. "I was just telling my new friend the story of how I met you and the guys."

The Japanese vampire collapsed into the free space on Taeyong's other side. He sighed heavily and ran his hand through his long red hair before fixing his gaze on you: his brow furrowed, and his eyes full of judgment on your figure at the table. "Doyoung's human?" he asked, sounding slightly confused.

Taeyong opened his mouth to reply, yet it wasn't his voice that gave the answer to Yuta's question.

"She's my new favorite."

It was Youngho's.

He got up from his place and walked around the table until he was positioned next to your figure. He bent down until he could whisper in your ear—a proposition to come back with him, to his apartment, right in front of everyone but especially in front of Yuta, who was still judging you from afar with those furrowed brows.

You feared Yuta didn't trust you like the rest of the vampires seemed to do. You feared he could smell your true intentions, somehow get in your head and know you were doubting every move, every decision. You were ashamed because you knew he could definitely hear your conversation with your boss and his leader even if you were whispering to each other. And you were expecting he wouldn't tell Doyoung you actually said yes to Youngho, that you'd love to go back to his apartment that night.

The night at the vampires cave seemed to come to an end when you found yourself in the passenger seat of Youngho's luxury car. Since your friend Soyeon and Donghyuck left in his own car seconds before, it was only you and Taeyong in the private parking lot, waiting for his boyfriend, for Yuta, and Youngho to get in.

Contrary to your experience with Doyoung or even with Yuta, you never had the pleasure of getting to know Taeyong in depth, and that was because you didn't really have a chance to interact despite a formal greeting when you passed him in the casino. But you were left both alone and drunk on many substances in the car, and you found out you definitely enjoyed his presence way more when he's not wearing a serious and intimidating expression, and when his huge eyes turn bright and he laughs at everything you say.

Taeyong made you feel like, if you were given the chance, you could form a beautiful friendship.

"You don't seem like the other girls."

"What do you mean?" You asked Taeyong, who was sitting behind and across from the passenger seat, stretching your neck to the side and resting it on the headrest so you could face him more comfortably.

"Every girl Johnny has been with has only wanted one thing," Taeyong answered. He took a deep breath and there was again, the serious, almost scary expression on his face that you knew him from. You gulped dryly, hoping it could go unnoticed before he continued. "To take advantage of him and what he owns. And my friend is a good guy, he really just wants to love someone before the end of this fucking cursed world, so he just lets them in, you know?"

The sensation of being exposed drained your face from all its blood, probably making you look pale even under a thick layer of makeup. You felt embarrassed thinking Taeyong had read you and figured you out perfectly, so much that you couldn't look him in the eye anymore. Nonetheless, Taeyong kept telling you how good he felt around you while you tried to believe that he was being honest with you, and not actually trying to induce you in some sort of manipulative game.

When fighting against an organized group, you don't need to attack them nor defeat them all at once. It will take one of the parts—only one of them to be the weakest and the beginning of their own downfall.

You wanted to believe Taeyong was the weakness.

Beneath all the beauty and luxuries that Taeyong carried around, his hard expressions but also his sparkling eyes, and most importantly all the substances that were dancing inside his body that night, your drunken mind considered there could be a soft heart that spoke the truth. And you didn't want to get carried away with that sweet, biased best friend talk and forget about what you really planned to do tonight—which was for sure not to fall for any vampire.

So as much as he would let you get closer to them, you would let him believe your connection was genuine.

"I don’t want you to do the same to my friend." He smiled at you.

You were about to reply, to reassure him you're not like the rest of the girls, when he turned his head to the window at the sight of a tall and very handsome guy walking in your direction, followed by Yuta and Youngho. Taeyong's smile didn't fade. In fact, it only grew bigger when the tall boy opened the door, ready to climb into the back of the car.

"Please don't get scared if you see my boyfriend or any of my friends snorting a line in front of you," Taeyong turned to warn you.  "They're just weird like that."

"Tae, we don't do that in Johnny's car," the guy scolded him as the car was getting crowded. He held a bottle of vodka in his hand that he hurriedly wanted to finish before you got on the road and to Youngho's place. A long drink and he tossed it to Taeyong, who took a sip, squeezing his eyes shut at the burning feeling down his throat and then he handed it to you.

"It's fine with me, anyway," you inform Taeyong, accepting the bottle with a subtle smile. "It's what I usually see around the club…"

"Yeah, of course she's fine with it." The tall guy laughed and gave Taeyong a knowing look that you caught through the rear view mirror. "Stop putting on an act, Tae."

"Shut up, Jaehyun! You're the one acting. I just don't want to scare her away, I like her!"

"You won't like her more than you like me, though." The tall guy—who's name you learned was Jaehyun—got a serious expression sending Taeyong that warning, with only a small hint of mischief in his tone, very hard to catch if you didn't pay enough attention.

But Taeyong must have known him very well, because he laughed awkwardly at Jaehyun's comment which made him smile pretty lovingly, dimples showing and eyes going into the shape of two crescent moons in Taeyong's direction.

"You two make me want to throw up," Yuta said as he closed the door, squeezing Taeyong, Jaehyun, and himself up in the backseat and only confirming Jaehyun had to be the boyfriend Taeyong was talking about earlier.

"It's not us what makes you want to throw up, Yuta." You heard Jaehyun's voice while he spoke facing the windshield. "It's all the blood you mixed up and drank tonight."

The bottle of vodka was almost empty in your hands when Youngho arrived, occupying the last empty space behind the steering wheel. One second he was turning on the engines, and the other you were tasting the iron of a quick, chaste kiss he planted on your lips and in front of everyone inside the car. He bit your lip before breaking the contact, and your blood mixed with the remains of what Youngho had been sipping all night that managed to transfer to your mouth. Then he turned around to ask, "Are we all continuing this at mine?"

"Drop me near my place on your way," Yuta was the only one to speak, his tone colder than his looks and the lack of temperature around the vampires. "I don't want to be part of any of this."

03: chaos

Soyeon and Donghyuck didn't waste a second from the moment they walked through the front door of that luxurious apartment. Kissing violently and obstructing their way into what seemed like a room, they moved without separating from each other to breathe, attached as if they were feeding on each other. In contrast, Taeyong and Jaehyun walked in completely relaxed; Taeyong with his arm around Jaehyun's shoulders, and intertwining their fingers in a way that almost moved you. You remembered Taeyong's words in the parking lot and wondered if love could really exist inside such cursed creatures.

Youngho looked tired after collapsing into the big leather couch in the living room, bottle of whiskey in hand. He opened it and poured four glasses, which you took as an invitation to join him and circle around the small table, along with the other couple.

There was a golden tray covered in white dust that looked ready to be used at any time. The first was Taeyong. He set up the line, brought his face close to the tray, and you heard him inhale the cocaine. After that, it didn't take more than a split second for him to finish his glass of whiskey in one gulp. And even though you knew it took a lot to intoxicate a vampire or alter their senses with some mundane substance made for human consumption, you were surprised how Taeyong didn't even flinch; not a sign of a slight dizziness, nothing. Jaehyun asked Youngho for a refill for his glass, and when he finished it, he and Taeyong said a hearty goodbye before retiring to the second floor.

Youngho was a man of few words, you had learned in the hours you had spent with him that night—even though you had already lost track of time. Your old cell phone had been left behind in the dressing room at the club, long before you saw Doyoung, and long before you met Youngho and your whole plan was completely ruined. Looking outside couldn't give you any clues as to what time it was either, since the sun hadn't shone in weeks.

The sound of the incessant storm was barely drowned out by the music from a vinyl that Youngho had just put on. He returned to your side on the couch and, again, he didn't need to say much: the vampire handed you the tray of cocaine, you inhaled a line, and he finished the whiskey straight from the bottle. That tired expression he wore before was suddenly gone; as he watched you recover from the dizziness, it had been replaced by one that could be mistaken for euphoria, or maybe desire.

Your head felt extremely light, and your body was on the verge of losing control and letting yourself be carried away by the melody playing in the common area of that huge, cold, and dark apartment.

As if Youngho had been reading your thoughts, he asked:

"Dance for me."

His throat, probably irritated by all the alcohol consumed, made his voice reach your ears deep and attractive, awakening chills throughout all your skin. And you obeyed, of course—it was your job, and he was your actual boss. On top of all that, there was the possibility of desperately wanting to dance for Youngho once again.

Youngho pushed the small wooden table away, moving it with his leather boot on it without a care, making room for you to dance right in front of where he was sitting. Arms and legs outstretched as if he were in paradise, Youngho made you feel that if looks could kill you would probably already be dead—eaten alive, drained from all your blood. And in some twisted way, you couldn't help but enjoying it: the feeling that even though they could have whoever they wanted, there were two the vampires who continued to choose you over the others—who had you as the object of their desires. Doyoung did it regularly. And you had to find a way to make Youngho want to do it too without getting killed.

You could hear the sound of the fire burning the paper that wraps the tobacco, and the room quickly filled with its white smoke coming out of Youngho's lungs. The music that was making you dance wasn't particularly sensual—the melody and the sounds made the situation of being in the vampire's house even more macabre. Still, you tried your best to impress Youngho, who was huffing and running his hand through his hair restlessly, as he watched you with the same eyes that had mesmerized you in the casino. They looked brown, normal one second, and bloodshot red the next. You thought it was a consequence of your drunken state that it altered your perception of things, or of the desire that you felt existed between you.

Your outfit that night left nothing to the imagination. You were still wearing your performing clothes—a see-through dress and the set of faux-leather underwear that you assumed had been tempting the vampire in front of you all night. He wasn't leaving much to the imagination either. The tent on his dressing pants were giving you enough confidence to take it a step further.

You turned around, trying to follow the beat of the music. The hem of your dress rolled up the curve of your ass when you squatted down in front of him. You heard him groan over the music, and the sound of ruffling against the black leather couch. It made you smile when you turned your head to the side and saw him out of the corner of your eye, struggling a little with his hard-on. So you got your knees and the side of your head to touch the cold, white marbled floor, while maintaining that eye contact that was so mesmerizing to you. You opened your knees and broke your back to have your ass moving up and down in front of Youngho a couple of times, then straightened your back to finally get rid of the thin and shiny tulle that caressed your skin.

It was when Youngho lost it, grabbing you by the arm and turning your body around to sit you on his lap. "Keep dancing," his voice came out raspy and desperate.

The tension, the strange beat of the music and all the smoke accumulated in the room squeezed your chest, making it difficult for you to breathe, and if something didn't happen in the next few seconds you felt like your heart might explode. Even when you tried to remind yourself to not fully give in to him and lose control, you couldn't really concentrate on what you were actually there for. You felt like you had accepted leaving with Youngho for a different reason, far, very far away from fucking him. Nonetheless, that seemed like the only thing you could really think of at that moment.

A whine came out from your mouth when you felt his hands touching you for the first time and pushing you even closer to him. And when he squeezed your ass to place your clothed sex right above his bulge you gasped, your lungs purified with clean air, as if something had been restricting them all this time.

It was that feeling again—a downforce pulling your body down, feeling as if you were descending from the sky at miles per hour, and your brain processing reality way too fast for your drunken state. An incessant throbbing between your legs, extremely turned on by the vampire under you, and you having no clue of how you actually ended up in that position.

Because yes, of course you remember what happened that night. You remember going to talk to them at their table, then getting into one of their cars and talking with Taeyong, accepting the drugs from Youngho and wanting to dance for him… But you didn't work like this. You've never worked like this. Every move and interaction had to be absolutely thought out and premeditated and this—it just felt totally wild, like you were out of it when you were in front of Youngho. Just the way you felt when you saw him at the vampires cave, back at the casino.

Despite looking the most young and fresh above the majority of them, given his position amongst the vampires at the club, you assumed Youngho was probably one of the oldest, if not the oldest of them all. You wondered if he was really that powerful; there was the possibility that he was messing with your head, you'd read older vampires were able to do so even to humans.

You thought he was absolutely insane when you felt the cold air hit your nipples and then his warm mouth attached to them. He let you grind on top of him, while you tried to contain your moans and to concentrate on what you actually had to do, that was getting out of there before you were food for vampires.

Your plan was screwed. Youngho being the leader of them changed everything you had been working on for months, even before you got your job at the strip club. You thought you had him, but there was a high chance that he was just using you to benefit from you somehow. Either it was getting on Doyoung's nerves, feeding from you, or just to get his dick wet—this wasn't about you. You needed to make it about you.

You needed to have control over the situation again. Change the plan and keep moving as soon as possible, without being suspicious. But Doyoung was already too involved and, fuck—he wasn't the vampire you had to get with, and you knew he was already kind of attached. You could said he had feelings, you knew that was possible for immature vampires, so you had to deal with that too and–

"Care to explain what this is for?"

You felt the blade pressing into the skin of your neck, threatening to cut just above your jugular if you made even the slightest movement. Youngho shook your head and tightened his grip on the nape of your neck even more, the force he exerted there beginning to ache and the sharpness of the weapon demanding a response from you more than the fear and adrenaline you knew were giving you away, no matter how hard you tried to stay calm.

You closed your eyes and silently cursed Ten for giving you the stupid razor, and yourself for accepting it even when you knew a little blade would be a waste of time when it came to vampires. You cursed yourself for being so careless after months working to get to this point—not in the way you really wanted, though.

"Five seconds to explain yourself before I kill you," he talked from under you once again.

Your eyes met his, no longer changing from brown to red but fully bloodshot now, and looking more scary than ever. You gulped one time and decided to speak—it's not like you had another choice anyway.

"It's because I work at the club," you managed to get your voice out. "I'm not sure if you know, but most of the men there are nasty." The words came out as fast as you could, but the anger on his face was telling you he wasn't having any of your bullshit. You concluded your lie struggling to maintain eye contact. "Wouldn't be the first time someone has to defend themselves from them."

Youngho loosened his grip on the back of your head and lowered the razor from your neck, only to caress your body with its sharp tip, tickling your skin as he ran it across your chest, the curve of your breasts, and your abdomen.

"Nobody dares to enter my house with weapons, you know that?" He applied more force to the blade against your skin. "Who the fuck you think you are?"

"It wasn't to hurt you," you dared to say, chest breathing heavy under the movement of the blade. "I swear I'd never think of using it on anyone. It's just to scare the guys from the club away if things get ugly."

The blade stopped on the flesh above your left clavicle, right besides where a scar was placed. Doyoung wasn't used to feeding on you, saying he didn't like it and that it wasn't what your relationship was about. But sometimes you would let him, when the moment would get too intense and you noticed that he was fighting too hard to control his tendencies. He was happy getting drunk on your blood from time to time, and he rewarded you with amazing sex and aftercare. All that was left was a little scar in that spot. Youngho laughed looking at it, and you felt the sting of the edge cutting the skin, then his tongue licking the blood that emanated from the superficial cut.

He hummed satisfied after getting a taste from you, and his fangs rubbled the zone before he spoke.

"I don't believe shit you're saying, my darling."

Even though you had imagined a moment like this before, with the most important vampire of all making you his in every way, you prepared yourself for the worst outcome. There was no chance you were getting out of there the way you wanted it.

Yet the surprise of a door being opened violently interrupted Youngho, who was about to open your chest in two, and his gaze focused on a scene behind you. His face deformed rapidly, and his expressions were no longer covered with desire and hunger but full of fury and anger. Even though you had no idea what was going on at your back, you were internally grateful that you weren't the cause of the sudden outburst of the vampire.

"Johnny, I think I messed up."

Donghyuck's voice managed to get to your ears when Youngho got you off his lap and shoved you to the other side of the couch. He got up in a rage, and you took care of calming your breathing in silence before he could remember that he was literally about to kill you. You heard Youngho start to mutter to Donghyuck, but you were too busy checking the small cut on your skin that kept bleeding, staining your fingertips every time you touched it.

"The fuck have you done?!" You heard the older vampire scream this time, and when you looked up he was pushing a Donghyuck completely covered in red back, causing the boy to hit the wall and become unbalanced. "You know we don't do this here, it's strictly forbidden."

Donghyuck stood outside the room he locked himself up earlier. Barefoot, only wearing a pair of briefs and the blood dripping from his mouth, painting his neck and chest a deep red. He was trying to explain something to Youngho, yet your mind couldn't concentrate on anything different than the scene inside of the bedroom.

Soyeon's body was on the bed. Her neck hanging off the edge with her eyes open, a terrified look penetrating right into yours. She must have been full of fear, is what you thought as you saw the fresh blood covering her neck and the champagne-colored bed sheets—now stained in red. An open wound on its left side that had stopped bleeding. Donghyuck must have sucked her dry.

"I damn Mia for turning you, Donghyuck, I really do. You're nothing more than a pain in the ass," Youngho said, and you watched him start to dial a phone number from your place on the couch.

Donghyuck seemed like he didn't care much as he started heading towards where you were sitting. You tried to move back even further in place by drawing your legs to your chest, clearly scared of what he might do to you. This was not the way you thought you'd die. But he simply stopped at the small wooden table and took out a cigarette.

"Relax, I'm not going to do anything to you," his mouth barely opened to speak, as he tried to hold the cigarette between his lips. He lit it up, inhaled all the tobacco smoke, then let it out to mix with the heavy, tense atmosphere. His lips left the filter painted with your co-worker's blood. "Yet." He finished talking with a macabre smile, and even dared to wink at you.

He quickly scanned you up and down, suddenly reminding you of the situation you were in with Youngho before he showed up and making you feel utterly exposed, so you crossed your arms over your chest in the best attempt to shield yourself from the hungry eyes of the young vampire.

"You're not doing shit more than taking care of this mess," Youngho spoke to Donghyuck as approached the scene. "I called Mia, you'll do it together. And be fucking reasonable while doing it. I don't want to see her on the news tomorrow because she was found laying in an alley."

"And what do we do about her?" Donghyuck asked while pointing at you with the cigarette. "Can't you make her forget? 'Cause I doubt you really wanna deal with another dead body."

Youngho stared at your body for a few seconds, thinking. Donghyuck waited for an answer, shifting his gaze from his boss to you, and you could feel Soyeon's eyes, dead but full of fear on you all the way from inside the bedroom. The smell of blood emanating from there and from Donghyuck's dripping mouth was beginning to be nauseating and the music playing from the vinyl threatened to drive you crazy.

"She doesn't need to forget," he finally said. Then he pulled your blade out of the back pocket of his pants and threw it forward, the little weapon landing on the couch right next to you. "You don't fuck with vampires. Consider this a lesson."

04: through the storm

Check the window. Watch the raindrops fall. Take your hand out and feel the water in your skin. Wipe the humidity with your clothes. Check the time—it's been twenty-six hours and thirteen minutes since you left Youngho's house; twenty-five hours and two minutes since you left Kun's apartment with your hands stained with blood. And try not to lose your mind. Check the time only one more time just to make sure you're not disconnecting from reality.

Not even a minute had passed since the last time you unlocked your phone to do that.

The wind from the storm that had been going on for days suddenly became more violent, whipping your face and forcing you to close the windows of the house, leaving you in the dark after the candles have gone out. The dim firelight between your trembling hands lighting cigarette after cigarette was the only tangible evidence of your emotions at that moment. The room quickly filled with smoke as the wax burned back onto the table, and that poor light allowed you to summarize what you were doing.

Your eyes scanned the thick paper, reading the information that had been kept from you over and over again. National Intelligence Service, printed in blue ink, and a 'classified' red stamp just below it.

Serial 090295-127. Name: Seo Youngho - Alias "Johnny".

A voice resonated inside your head, almost torturing you, and you feared closing your eyes in case you'd be reminded of the events of the past hours.

"Did you really think you'd be able to do this alone? Are you that naive?"

Address: Unknown. Jurisdiction: Seoul. Additional info/scars/tattoos/weapons/etc.: tattoos of a barbed wire on his chest; hummingbird, beast, and wild leaves on his left shoulder (colored), spider on his right pectoral, flower arrangement in his right hand, letters on his fingers. Master hand-to-hand combatant. Masters various supernatural powers (includes supernatural strength, speed, super bionic hearing and vision, telekinesis, mind control.)

Two checked boxes under that information:

Suspect. Previously arrested.

The rage would make you tremble and break a cold sweat that dropped down the sides of your body. You closed the blue folder violently and you piled it on top of the rest of the documents carelessly. Yuta's, Taeyong's, Jaehyun's, Doyoung's—all of them—and tossed them across the room to somehow deal with the irritation. The papers that keep track of the vampire organization's crimes up to a year ago, before Qian Kun was fired for not agreeing to stop investigating them, flew through the air and landed next to the pile of clothes you took off just a couple of hours ago. The candlelight hardly reached that area of the house. Still, it was enough to illuminate the red stains on your white fur coat, and remind you of the scene you left behind at the retired cop's house.

You can't really say that it was premeditated, although you can't really say that you simply acted out of a violent impulse, or a nervous one, or whatever. You wanted to finish off the bastard, just not under those circumstances. After finding out that he had only been lying to you and using you to catch the vampires first, and that by hiding information as important as who their true leader is, he ruined the whole damn plan you were carrying out. You thought the bastard deserved nothing more than to die right away.

Kun's apartment, in a crumbling building just a couple of streets from the casino, had become an exact replica of the Seoul police investigation office after he was kicked out. Target pictures pasted on the walls, phone numbers, bank account aliases, contacts from all around the world, photos from outside and inside the casino—you name it. The man studied the vampires who ruled the casino day and night.

When Kun arrived in Korea from China, he was a newly recruited police officer hungry for justice in a dirty, corrupt, and dying world. He had followed the vampires who had their illegal businesses in China and, frustrated by all the obstacles the authorities put to judge them, he decided to go in search of the root of the problem. Kim Doyoung, was what he told you the night you met him in the old bar where you worked and where Kun often went to drown his sorrows.

Kim Doyoung was supposedly the man in charge of the biggest chain of clubs and casinos in cities like New York, Los Angeles, Beijing, Tokyo and, of course, Seoul. Kim Doyoung, a rich, powerful, attractive, timeless man. A vampire. Someone who would survive the supposed last of humanity's crises, filling his pockets exponentially and living peacefully for all eternity. Absolutely everything you were looking for. 

You were going to kill Kun after you had become what you wanted and rid yourself of the vampires, but that evening he left you no choice.

The morning after the night you met Youngho and your life suddenly got upside down, you went to Kun's apartment for explanations.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to keep the memory from creeping into your mind.

"I didn't lie to you," he had the nerve to say. "I just kept information from you, for your own safety."

"Bullshit!" you almost spit in his face. All the anger generated by the situation you found yourself in with Youngho, Soyeon's unnecessary death, and Doyoung's strange attitudes, you were unloading on the police officer. If your plan took a one hundred and eighty degrees turn it was his fault, and you were going to let him know. "If you cared about my safety you would've told me the truth from the start. And I would've been dealing with the right vampire from the beginning. Wouldn't have gotten my mind fucked, maybe my co-worker wouldn't be fucking dead!"

"You could never have dealt with the situation on your own."

"I would have planned it differently! I thought I had Doyoung eating from the palm of my hand."

"You have Doyoung eating from your hands, though," he shot back, maintaining an incredibly calm composure even though you had been yelling at him for about ten minutes.

"But he's not the right guy, for fuck's sake!"

Kun left the room leaving you shaken, your chest rising and falling rapidly, and your throat closing more and more in response to all your accumulated anger. After a couple of seconds he returned with a file box in his hands and begun to search inside it, until he pulled out a blue folder and opened it with the intention of reading its contents to you.

"Okay, listen. This is how we're going to proceed."

"Hell no. I'm not doing this with you anymore." Your face contorted in disgust as you looked at him, and you pointed an accusing finger at him to speak, "You think I can trust you after you lied like this to me?"

"Did you really think you'd be able to do this alone?" Kun asked once more, but this time with a much more incredulous tone, his eyes narrowed and a nasty smirk on his lips. "Are you that naive? Look at you."

He motioned to you with his head and you followed his gaze all the way down to your own self. You were still wearing your outfit of the previous night—your performance clothes, only covered by a fur coat you managed to take before leaving the casino that barely reached your thighs. You hadn't had the energy to shower nor change clothes since you came back from Youngho's apartment, so your makeup from the previous night was trying to survive the water from the bathroom sink and the rain, almost completely smudged off your face now. To be quite honest, you were a disaster.

"You're nothing more than a whore who makes men horny for fucking money, and you're going to die as that, nothing else," he stated disgustingly. "There's no chance you can fool Youngho and run away with his money. It's not happening. Be fucking realistic."

You felt your eyes burn and fill with tears. A lump settled in your throat, and you couldn't warn him at all. When Kun turned around and had his back to you, you just saw the perfect opportunity to vent all your pent up rage.

The knife you were hiding in your boots felt incredibly heavy in your right hand. Kun's hair was soft to the touch as you took hold of him to angle his neck to the edge of the blade. A clean cut from left to right was all it took for your skin to feel the heat of his blood, and the floor began to turn red—a dark and stinking red, like the one you often see Doyoung drink from his fine glass bottles.

You let out a cry of exhaustion watching the body fall limp to the wooden floor and hearing the retired officer struggle to maintain his life.

"¡Fuuuuuck! ¡Fuck, fuck, fucking shit!"

The pool of blood didn't manage to reach the sole of your shoes, as you walked away and busied yourself with taking the file box that Kun had just revealed to you, along with some other photographs and bank account numbers. You didn't take all the items that were hanging on his walls, because whoever entered, found his lifeless dead body, and then saw how he had been following the vampires for years, would only think that the crime was their own doing—that they discovered him and wanted him out of the way. Nobody would ever suspect you, because you always made sure there were no traces left of your relationship with Kun that could incriminate you. There was a high chance that the case wouldn't even get investigated, as no one dared to touch the vampire organization and Kun didn't have family in Seoul that could worry about him, anyway.

The old plan to get to the vampires was completely screwed, so you needed to think about a new one as soon as possible.

You opened your eyes and you found yourself sitting at home again, by candlelight, this time with a joint in your hands. You turned it on, took a puff, checked the time through the broken screen of your phone. Only a minute had passed since you last did the same, but in your head it felt like an hour. 

Nothing coherent would emerge under that state of mind, so finally, after approximately more than thirty-five hours awake, you went to sleep trying to convince yourself that you were not losing your sanity.

05: every splendid thing gathered as if to tempt me

You weren't asked to go to the vampire's cave again after what happened with Soyeon. When you went back to work at the club alone though, Ten was the first to suspect something had happened either when you were there or after. He asked if you knew the reason why she was absent, but you weren't gonna tell him the truth–you couldn't imagine what would happen if your coworkers found out their bosses didn't mind killing his employees only because they couldn't control their thirst for human blood. You were afraid that, if you said a word, they'd find out and get you killed too.

Your answer did not convince Ten at all, who questioned you, crossing his arms and frowning.

"You think she's sick?"

You just shrugged, looking at him through the reflection in the mirror of the club's dressing room.

"It's been a week since she's absent," he remarked. "You think she's gonna miss a week of work, considering how shitty the pay is, just because she's sick? She doesn't have any more income."

You swallowed dryly and couldn't stand his gaze any longer. If Ten noticed how guilt took over your senses, he chose not to say anything about it. Only his footsteps could be heard, the sole of his white platforms sinking into the wood as he walked away from you to collapse on the old leather couch.

Your phone vibrated and the screen turned on, showing a text indicating to be at the private parking lot in five minutes. Doyoung explained he had a busy week and that he couldn't make much time to contact you, but that he admired you from his office every night that you were dancing at the club's stage, and it made him miss you even more. He wanted to compensate you for all the time you couldn't be together.

"Doyoung might know something," you finally tried to reassure Ten, even though you knew Doyoung wouldn't have a clue . "I could ask him about her."

His long, thin legs crossed while he lit a cigarette up and drank whiskey as if it were water. "Please do," he said, exhaling a large cloud of smoke. "I'm worried sick about her."

—

You thought it would be easier to deal with the situation, however the image of Soyeon dead in Youngho's bed haunted you day and night, just like the tail of your lies. The sound of the flush filled the bathroom right after the conversation with Ten made your stomach turn. You opened the sink, rinsed your mouth, touched up the red color of your lipstick and bit into a mint.

Five minutes later, you found Doyoung waiting for you at the side of his white sports car. He was busy on his phone, a frown on his brows as he discussed with someone in a low tone you couldn't catch anything of what he was saying. Even though he looked frustrated, his eyes relaxed as soon as he saw you approaching his spot. He did that characteristic gesture of him, extending his arm to you to get you closer, and you intertwined your fingers as he ended his call on the phone.

"I'll have an answer tonight, Johnny."

Your stomach flipped for the second time that day as soon as you heard the name leave Doyoung's lips. He frowned once again, maybe sensing a change in your mood, but only smiled at you and caressed the back of your palm with his thumb. You thought Doyoung might not have known what happened, but somehow he could've been trying to comfort you.

"Alright, see you tomorrow." Doyoung ended the call.

He cupped your face with his hands locking eyes with you. He had a tender look, and it made you wonder if Doyoung might see it through you—all the sleepless hours, the crying, the fear, the stains of blood, the lies. Yet he only pushed your head closer to his, locking your mouths with a soft kiss. His lips were cold to the touch, but after what felt like the most chaotic and stressful days of your entire life, you found some kind of comfort in them. His gentle manners disconnected you from reality, so you stuck to that kiss like your life depended on it, deepening it more and more as time passed.

You tugged Doyoung closer, his perfectly white shirt wrinkling in your fists while you felt his body adapt perfectly to yours and his expensive cologne filled your senses. It reminded you of the reason why you started seeing Doyoung in the first place—you liked him. You liked his body, you liked his face and the way it seemed like he only had eyes for you. You loved how he smelled, how he always kissed your cheeks, how his silk shirts felt on your skin after he got you naked. Then you got used to the rides on his expensive cars, the delicious meals and the comfort of the king sized beds he would fuck you over everytime you were together.

Maybe you liked all that a little too much, got ambitious, wanted it all only for you. And you wanted it forever.

He broke the kiss and laughed when he saw you chasing his lips for more. His hands moved up to hug your waist and you opened your eyes to find his slightly bloodshot red, his irises slowly going back to its normal yellowish as you both struggled with your breath.

A lopsided smile was plastered on his face.

"Let's go home."

And maybe, only this last time, you didn't want to think of following plans, of keeping secrets and fearing betrayals. Maybe you wanted to have a moment with Doyoung, only a moment, like it was when it all started.

After weeks of torrential rains, all that was left in Seoul was empty streets under an eternal starry night. The wind that entered through the apartment’s open windows made the black curtains dance around a king-sized bed where Doyoung laid naked. Through the gold-ornamented mirror he observed you fix your hair, then put your panties on and add some more lipstick after it transferred all to your lover’s skin.

Against popular belief, you were able to catch his silhouette through the reflection coming close to you. His body was illuminated by the moonlight only, yet it was enough to admire all the muscle and the ink that adorned his body. It was just as they described it on the documents you got from Kun’s house, each tattoo placed in the exact place, and it made you wonder if those previous investigators had gotten the information the same way. How many lovers could Doyoung and the rest of the vampires possibly have had that were not their lovers, but some desperate humans trying to make something out of this miserable world? How many other girls have touched Doyoung’s velvety skin under the moonlight, over those same sheets, and how many more would if you’re not the last one?

His touch was cold over your shoulders, even when he placed his soft lips on your naked skin it felt terribly cold. From behind you, his right hand traveled past your navel until it reached the only trace of fabric you were wearing. The other hand over your neck applied the right amount of pressure to get your entire body pressed to his, and he whispered in your ear.

“There’s something you need to understand very clearly, my dear.”

The coldness reached your insides. Doyoung started rubbing on your sex very gently, enough for you to pay attention to what he was saying.

“Even if you start dancing occasionally for other vampires at the cave, you’re my human.”

He added a finger as he finished the sentence, making you throw your head back over his shoulder.

“You can’t be with anyone else.” When he sensed you were ready, a second finger came in alongside a tight grip on your neck. “Understood?”

But a moan got caught in your throat. You had to open your eyes to check your reflection in the mirror because you couldn’t believe what your ears heard.

That wasn’t Doyoung’s voice asking the question, nor was it his figure behind you and with his hand between your pussy.

It was Johnny’s.

The older vampire let go of the grip on your neck before putting your panties down in one go. The contact on your skin no longer felt cold, but it was incredibly hot, almost burning the places he was grabbing you from. With both hands behind your back locked between his, he started fucking you. You looked for Doyoung around the room, wondering where had he gone and if he was okay with it. It was hard to understand how one second he was telling you you’re his, and the other he was letting his superior have his way with you.

“What are you doing?!” You asked the vampire behind you, while he was restlessly going in and out of you and you were fighting not to scream his name.

“This is lesson number two,” Johnny said between breaths. “You can’t play both ends.”

It’s hard to explain what truly happened that night, because you couldn’t decipher it yourself.

When you started to fight the pleasure, he seemed to have no other option than to let you go. After quickly putting all your clothes on and apparently coming down from the high, you ran out of Doyoung’s room, full of embarrassment and in fear of encountering him and got him questioning your state.

But you couldn’t avoid him.

His hand on your forearm stopped you from getting through the front door.

“What happened?” He asked a little out of breath, only wearing a pair of briefs and a confused expression.

“Where is he?”

“Where’s who?” Doyoung returned the question.

“Sorry, I'm sorry,” you apologized as you fought to get rid of his grip, rotating your gaze wildly between his body and the bedroom door, hoping that Johnny would simply disappear from there. “I just need to go.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, no.”

“Did you not like it?”

And what were you supposed to say? You couldn’t quite wrap your head around the idea of Doyoung letting Johnny fuck you. In his own house, right after himself. It just wasn’t part of Doyoung’s nature, you knew that. So, to say you were extremely confused once again, was an understatement. Doyoung was still looking at you expecting an answer.

The problem was, you liked what Johnny did to you a little too much.

“Are you scared of me?” Doyoung asked after not getting a word from you. “Is this because of Soyeon?”

“No.” You furrowed your brows. Doyoung knew something and was clearly keeping it from you. But how much did he know was the real problem; he better not have an idea you were with Johnny the night she died, or it would be all screwed. Doyoung simply couldn’t know you saw his boss, or you would lose your job and contact with the casino, completely. That’s why you got a little defensive and started questioning him, even when you already got all the answers. “What does she have to do with this?”

“Uhm, no, it doesn't have to do anything–”

“What do you know, Doyoung?” You demanded with a firmer tone. He remained silent, perhaps debating whether to confess or not. So you feigned a little more concern.

“She’s missing! Don’t act all dumb Doyoung, I know something happened to her!”

“One of the vampires of the cave, Donghyuck,” he finally started. “Well, he can’t control his impulses too well.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“He’s young! Like, very recently turned and… Apparently he impulsively sucked all the blood out of her–”

But it was impossible for him to finish the sentence because you started gagging. Not because of what he was saying, but because of the mental image you had of Soyeon’s dead body, and Donghyuck all covered in her blood in front of you. You even remember the nauseous smell, and your eyes filled up with tears because of the disgust.

“I know she was your friend. I’m sorry for not telling you, I just didn’t want to scare you.” His voice came out desperate as his touch sought to comfort you, through caresses on your arms and your cheeks. “I know I get possesive sometimes telling you you’re just mine, but it’s because I’m afraid you might get involved with them and end up like that.”

“I already got involved with you. What makes you different?” You countered a little defensively, dodging his hands.

Doyoung had always been very respectful of your boundaries and your emotions, so you weren't surprised when he brought his hands to his chest, guarding himself against the desire to come into contact with you after you avoided it. His murmur still echoed in that huge, dark living room of his apartment.

“That I… I really care for you. You’re more than a good fuck to me. You know that, right?”

The empty look of a defeated body was all you gave back to him, as if you no longer had the strength to deal with the situation.

He approached you very slowly, still in a state of alert that you could feel. “I care for you.” He repeated. “A lot.”

“You vampires can’t develop feelings and shit,” you finally spoke. “Don’t try to lie to me.”

The vampire shrugged with his head down, an attitude you have never witnessed before. That level of vulnerability he was showing was completely new; deeper than the sex, even deeper than sharing your blood with him.

“I can,” he confessed, looking back into your eyes. “I’m not that old, you know? To completely dissociate myself from my feelings.”

While you remained silent, you let him close the space between the two of you once again. Doyoung’s fingertips were soft caressing your cheeks, yet his lips felt even softer. He wore yellow clear eyes full of worry, far from those arrogant or lustful looks he gave you most of the time. On his naked chest, right above where his heart should’ve been beating, a perfect shape of your lips in the color of red.

The gears were turning inside your head trying to think of how to use this to your advantage and put the plan into motion with Johnny.

“I need some time alone to process all this.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Doyoung was quick to reassure you. “Whatever you need, you know I’m just one call away.”

You nodded your head yes and were out of the vampire’s place.

Once on the street, you searched your small bag for the cigarettes you had taken from Doyoung's nightstand and lit one. In a reflex act, you looked up in the direction of his balcony, where its black curtains still fluttered due to the unusual wind and blended with the darkness of the night in a decaying Seoul. Suddenly, the windows closed. You exhaled the smoke from your cigarette smiling.

"Stupid vampires."

And you stopped the bus that would take you back to the Oasis.

06: tell me how you want to keep me for eternity

Multiple murmurs from came to your ears as you opened the doors to the red room. The waitresses opened bottles of champagne and filled the mortals’ glasses as the vampires sucked on their blood cocktails. There was some jazz playing in the back while you were opening your way to that particular table that caught your attention so much on the first day you were at the vampire’s cave.

That night, however, you noticed there were a few missing faces as you performed on the stage.

When you encountered Yuta at the casino’s main entrance and he told you you were back at the third floor, of course you were expecting to dance for Johnny. Yet he was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t even feel his presence like you did the first time you were there, and you thought it was strange. Why would he call you to dance if he wasn’t going to be watching? And why would you bother dancing if you were going to do it for other people?

The call of your name startled you, making you realize you had already walked by the vampire’s designated table during your train of thought. Taeyong's friendly tone made it quite difficult to hide the reality that you weren't interested in stopping at the table unless Johnny was there.

“Come have a drink with us.” 

You nodded your head politely and sat down at the rounded table. Taeyong and his boyfriend were attached at the hips as in every situation you had shared with them. On their side, a rather young looking man with a perfectly defined nose and plump lips with an unnatural red. The remains on his glass made you think you couldn't make up his age based on his looks because he was also drinking from the blood cocktail. Between him and Yuta, some girls you had never seen before. Lastly, Donghyuck was sitting on your side with a cocky smile that you started to think was characteristic of him.

“You and the dancers were amazing tonight,” Taeyong said as he offered you a bubbly glass that you drowned in one go.

“It was a new show,” you responded with a smile. “A different one we haven’t presented in the club, so we didn’t have much rehearsal before this.”

“You work at the club?” One of the girls asked, arching a brow and getting a laugh out of her friend.

You confirmed with a nod of your head and a slightly embarrassed smile, yet the rage was already bubbling up inside you. She only added, “Must be hard dealing with all the shit that goes down there.”

That made both of them laugh and you scoffed in response.

“Why don’t you go down there and see if you can deal with it,” your face frowned as you challenged them with the same impudence. “I’m sure you won’t act all tough once you’re outside your little privileged bubble.”

Yuta was the only one that dared to show a reaction to your response. He laughed and poured another glass of champagne before handing it to you as some kind of reward. “You won’t want to mess with this one, girls,” the japanese said and he got up in his place, not looking them in the eyes even once but rather concentrated in the rest of the cave, as if looking for someone.

“Yeah, I can see,” the girl that remained silent and only laughing until then, spoke. “You can’t hide where you come from. It always shows.”

And with that they left the table, leaving you alone with the vampires.

“I think you’re one of our best dancers,” Jaehyun said. “But not the best.”

As the sensual tone of an electric guitar came to your senses, he stood up and asked his boyfriend for his hand. “Would the best dancer in the building give me the honour of sharing this piece?”

Taeyong laughed out of nervousness, asking ‘what?’ as he laced his fingers between his lover’s. But his expression turned quickly as he recognized the song. “Wait, is this our song?” He asked getting up.

“I paid the musicians to play it for us.”

Jaehyun dragged his partner to the center of the dance floor, attracting everyone's attention except for one person. It seemed like Yuta had finally found what he was looking for, and you saw him smile for what you think was the first time in your life. A genuine smile formed on his lips and forced him to leave the table in search of an infernal woman who was entering the cave. He kissed her knuckles almost hidden by a huge fur coat, and the tip of her stilettos echoed across the floor as they both left through the red curtains she had just entered.

A few seconds passed by with Jaehyun and Taeyong swinging to the music, before you were startled by the last person setting at the table with you.

“Just you and me, huh?” Donghyuck asked and you hummed. “Should we go dance too?”

“No, thanks.”

“What?” He laughed, sounding like he was a little shocked by the quick denial. “I thought you enjoyed dancing for the vampires a little too much,” he added with a disgusting tone eyeing you up and down.

His wandering looks you caught from the corner of your eye obliged you to cover up a little, uncomfortable. But it wasn't enough for Donghyuck to catch the signal, or maybe he decided he couldn't care less, hence the young vampire moved his right hand to your knee and started squeezing there, feeling your skin through the red stockings you were wearing.

“Red’s my favorite colour,” he whispered getting closer to your side.

Your trembly hands tried to pour another glass of champagne but failed once you noticed the bottle was empty. Beyond Donghyuck’s spot on the table there was a bottle of whiskey, so you tried to reach for it but couldn’t when you felt his hand go further up your knee.

You stopped him right there and looked him in his blood-shot eyes. A wicked smile took over his features and he licked his lips after squeezing your thight once more. “What?” He asked after your silence.

From his being emanated a mix of whiskey and that nauseating smell that reminded you of the night Donghyuck had appeared before you covered in blood, and of the floor of Kun's apartment covered in the same red.

“You scared of me?” Donghyuck whispers once again. “Scared you might end up like that pretty friend of yours?”

You held your breath, trying to endure the nausea that the young man caused you. You knew he meant you were scared of ending up dead.

“Trying to be fucked by you?” A laugh made your entire body shake. “Not even in your wildest dreams,” you finished to get his hand off your skin and up from the table.

As the loverboys still danced slowly at the center of the floor and in front of the musicians, you fixed your clothes and went a little over him to finally reach for the bottle of Black Label.

“I need to go see your boss.”

—

“Ten,” you called his name as soon as you heard the boy on the other side of the phone.

Since Soyeon wasn’t around anymore, you decided you had to trust someone else. You had been working at the casino for a few months only, so it was needed to keep in contact with someone who knew the interns and could give you quick information.

Ten showed himself trustworthy since the very first moment you met. He was the nicest coworker you had too, along with Soyeon. During your first rehearsal at the club it was only him and you; he spent hours teaching you all the choreographies and showing you around so you wouldn’t feel so lost on your first day of shows. Later that same day, after he drowned glass of whiskey after glass of whiskey, the confessions came to you while you two sat on the rusty couch of the changing room.

“I fell for them too,” he said, head thrown back on the couch, getting his eyes lost on the dirt of the ceiling.

You rolled the tobacco between your fingers with some difficulty and passed it to Ten. “How did that happen?”

“Honestly,” the boy lit the tobacco up and it struggled to burn due to your poor arming skills, but he didn’t seem to mind. “They’re intriguing, I don’t know. And they’re handsome and hot despite all that coldness they carry around. But there was this particularly nice vampire that came to the club one night,” he confessed while pouring another two glasses of liquor and passing one to you. “That’s unusual. You’ll never see them around here, not even Doyoung, he’s always observing but only up from his office.

But this one was there. He came to see the show and then I encountered him in the bathroom.”

“In the bathroom?” 

“He was doing coke,” Ten laughed in disbelief. “But he was so nice,” a sigh came out of him remembering the moment. “The most defined jaw I’ve seen in my life, nose and lips carved by the Gods, a soft pastel pink hair that reminded me of how the beautiful afternoon sky looked before all this world went to shit.”

That made you wonder. Ten looked ratherly young, maybe around your age or just a couple of years older, yet you had no memories of how the initial world was. You had only lived during the beginning of the end. “How long have you been around here, Ten?”

“Many years,” he said, calling your name. He stood up from his place and went to look in front of the changing room’s mirror. “I got beside him like this, only looking at him through the mirror but I could see him eyeing me up and down with a dopey smile.”

It looked like nostalgia took over his body, a sad smile adorning his face when he turned around to finish his sentence.

“Taeyong has always been easy like that.”

“You fell in love with one of them?”

“Mhm.” Ten walked on his platforms until he was sitting on your side once again. He put the tobacco down in the ashtray and took the black, thick choker he was wearing around his neck. “We got close like this.”

A slightly visible scar of what looked like a pair of fangs was there on his skin.

“I think it can happen to most of us.” Ten searched for something in between his tight clothes until he took out a tiny bag of powder. “I do wish to feel that high again, everyday of my life.” Opened it, collected a little on the inside of his long nails and inhaled. “But I don’t wish for anyone else to experience it at the same time.”

“Girl,” he said through the line. “You good? Are you done with your number?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you replied and hesitated for a moment on asking what you really wanted to know. “Do you know where I can find Johnny?”

A moment of silence, then Ten’s voice finally came back to your ears. “Last floor. His office is the only room you’ll find there.”

—

A gold painted door read Seo Youngho in front of your eyes. Under your black platforms, a petrol-colored carpet that combined perfectly with the dark walls of the hallway. You knocked on the door and checked above it and around the corners of the hallway to see if there were any cameras announcing your arrival, but opposite what you were used to in Doyoung’s office, there wasn’t a single one. You only heard a disturbed ‘come in’ from inside, and the voice made your stomach turn upside down.

The room behind the golden door was giant, covered in dark wood and black-out windows that reached the meters-long ceiling. Adorned in a typical gothic style, the office of your boss was what you would call a vampire's refuge, with thick blue curtains, and ornate armchairs sporting matching velvet. To your left, shelves that covered the walls full of books and boxes with files. To the right, a giant frame holding the most horrible canvas you've ever seen of Saturn devouring his son.

The voice of the boss himself made you turn your head to the center of the room.

Far from where you were, towards the end of the room and sitting behind a huge wooden desk covered in papers and candle wax was Johnny. He called your name a little surprised and made you feel stupid with a half empty whiskey bottle in your hand.

“Seems like you finally made a choice,” he said standing up from his place and coming in front of the desk.

You smiled with your lips sealed and started walking towards him. It was only a few steps, yet it felt like eternity. The room was incredibly cold, so much so that it gave you goosebumps and you had to fight a shiver once you were in front of the vampire. He looked down at you and laughed, taking the bottle out of your hand to pour two glasses of the liquor.

“The right one,” Johnny finished clinking his glass with yours.

The vampire went back to his place behind the desk, placing himself on his big wooden chair and inviting you to sit in front of him. “What brings you here?”

He was acting extremely weird, as if he wasn’t moved by your presence despite the initial surprise, not even after he fucked you in Doyoung’s bedroom what felt like hours ago. And when you saw him manspread as he lit up a cigarette, all you could think of was those same furrowed brows while he took you from behind in front of the mirror. You couldn't take him off of your mind. But he was unfazed.

“I expected to see you at the cave today.”

“I had a lot of work to do, as you can see.” He extended a hand showing you all the papers on his desk. “But luckily for you, I'm almost done.” That sparkled something inside you. A little bit of interest shown, enough for you to squeeze your legs together in excitement. Johnny looked down to your red stockings and lace and gifted you a lopsided smile. “I suppose you're still interested in seeing me?”

He took out another cigarette and lit it up, its black end burning while he handed the golden filter in your direction. When you put it between your lips, it was slightly humid.

“Yeah. Yes, of course.”

“Good then. I just need to go run some errands. It's gonna be quick. You can come with and then we’ll be heading home.”

It made you smile inevitably. You let the smoke come out of your mouth before agreeing to the plan. “Sounds perfect to me.”

Johnny stopped the car in front of a building you were too familiar with. It wasn’t your apartment, nor it was too far the casino to be Doyoung’s place. It was the entrance to Kun’s rusty apartment what made your blood run cold. He didn’t come out of the car immediately, only looking through the driver's window until two figures appeared through the front door. It was Yuta and that stunning female you saw him leave with earlier in the cave.

“What are we doing here?” You tried not to show the desperation in your voice.

“You stay in the car.”

The harsh sound of the closing door surprised you as Johnny went out to his encounter with Yuta and the female. You didn’t want to look suspicious, but you were dying to know what they were talking about and what they were doing in front of the building where the man you killed days ago used to live. So you tried your best to at least read the lips of the vampires and make out a little of what they were talking about. But it was all in vain, with Johnny showing his back to you and covering the figure of this intriguing female.

Shortly after, an old man came through the front door and greeted the vampires. His black suit and the police ID hanging from his neck left you frozen. They exchanged a few more words, an incredibly serious expression never leaving Yuta's face–the only one you could really see from your angle–, and then they parted ways.

Yuta and the female in the fur coat walked right in front of Johnny's car, and the japanese didn't miss the chance to suck the soul out of your body with his look. It took you back to what he said to the people sitting in the cave with you. You won't want to mess with this one.

What did he mean by that? What did Yuta know about you and how much did Johnny?

The closing of the driver’s door catched your attention and Johnny was sitting behind the steering wheel once again. Like a habit, the vampire caught your lips in a quick kiss after starting the car engine.

He looked at you fondly through his red irises. “Pretty little girls like you shouldn’t be playin’ with dead things, huh?” He asked with a smile. “Yet here we are.”

—

Johnny’s place looked nothing like the first and last time you were here, not with the curtains open and the dim lights of the streets finding their way through the windows. You checked the time on your phone screen and it was almost six in the morning. The sun was supposed to be showing behind the horizon already and warming up the world, but that was a scenario that didn’t take place anymore, and you had grown accustomed to it, to the darkness and the cold that surrounded and followed you every step since you had use of reason. You also noticed on top of your screen there was no service inside there.

You thought, in case something happened to you, at least Ten knew Johnny was the last person you were meant to see from that call you had with him earlier.

It was incredibly warm inside Johnny's house, and all the previous hours you had spent sleep deprived began to hit you one by one. You let out a big yawn as your arms relaxed on each side of your body, surrendered and exhausted.

A pair of lips came in contact with your cheek as your view got completely blocked by a tall and defined figure. Johnny kissed your skin softly while he caressed your arms up and down.

You couldn't help but think about how similar it felt to Doyoung's touch, and you avoided closing your eyes in fear that something strange would happen again. At that moment, you were suspicious of your desires, which seemed to confuse you to the point of imagining things.

“You’re pretty tired,” he noticed. “The boys told me you did really great today.”

“I really wanted you to see the new show.”

“Sorry I couldn’t be there.”

You nodded with a smile yet chased for his lips, what made Johnny laugh a little. “I’ll run a bath for the both of us.” Then he took your hand in his and started dragging you towards the bathroom.

Unsurprisingly, the room was painted in all dark colors and adorned in gold pieces. A wall decorated with what looked like figures of religious hearts was what caught the most attention. At its feet, a magnificent bathtub that could definitely fit more than two people, which Johnny quickly set about filling with hot water, and the image of the bathroom began to dissipate due to the steam. Among all that cloud, his hands invited you to take off his clothes, and he did the same to you with delicacy.

Johnny's body was incredible, even more toned than Doyoung's. Soft to the touch but firm under your grab, it made you want to tangle yourself between his arms and legs forever. And as if he was reading your mind, he put a foot inside the bathtub and extended a hand to you, inviting you in. The vampire laid his back to the end of it and placed your body between his long legs. You got so close to him that you were sure that, if he happened to be alive, you’d feel his heartbeat through his chest.

You allowed yourself to relax into his caresses as you fought to keep sleep from completely taking over you.

He massaged your scalp with shampoo, then moved his hands to release some of the tension in your shoulders. A sigh escaped your lips out of the satisfaction, and Johnny’s laugh resonated throughout your entire body due to the contact. His touch was quick but careful to explore the rest of your body, and when you felt it reaching the end of your stomach you had to make a confession.

“Johnny.”

He hummed at your call, so you continued talking.

“I don’t think I can fight it any more.”

“Fight what?” A curious tone reached your ears.

Then you felt his right hand traveling further down, and further down. The sensation of his fingers between your lips made you spread your legs wider and lay even more on his chest. And he started rubbing there, carefully, with no rush in his movements.

The stimulation of your clit made you moan out in pleasure and you heard him ask again.

“Fight what?”

You were wet and warm just like all the bathwater that surrounded you two, so it wasn’t difficult when he introduced one of his fingers to you. In fact, it felt so good you were no longer fighting the sleep that was taking over you a minute ago. What you actually meant earlier was that you couldn’t keep awake anymore, the bath becoming too relaxing for your exhausted self. But as you felt Johnny grow hard against your back you also felt all the sleepiness going away.

“Johnny,” you said once again between agitated breaths. Not once did he stop his finger from going in and out of you and from making you moan along with his movements.

“What?” He laughed as you kept calling his name and telling nothing to him. “Want another one?”

So he did introduce another finger without waiting for an answer. The steam from the water combined with the heat your body was radiating started to suffocate you, but it wasn’t enough for you to get out of there. You were finally having what you wanted, after all. Johnny grabbed one of your tits to alternate between squeezing and pinching on your nipple, as his fingers kept stimulating you all the way from your clit to deep inside your hole.

You clenched around his fingers as you felt the pleasure build up every second it passed. His long strands of hair, humid in your hand when you brought one of your arms up to pull on them. And you couldn’t wait to finally have Johnny inside of you once again. At that point, after experiencing how good he was with his hands only, you were dying to sit on top of him and to be under his body for hours and hours.

As your hand reached for him behind your back and you felt all the worries leave your mind, you finally spoke to him. “I want you, hurry up.”

“Hey, no need to rush,” he said while leaving sweet kisses on your neck and getting your hand out of the way. You were getting closer and closer, feeling like you were either about to explode or pass out once you were done.

All worries gone, except one.

The problem was that you felt like you had your days counted before something bad happened to you. You needed a vampire to turn you, to get the fuck out of Seoul with a ton of money as soon as possible, and you had been expecting that vampire to be Johnny. But once again, he didn’t seem to mind.

Johnny ignored your plea as he whispered in your ear:

“I have all the time in the world.”

Taglist: @doiefy @neonc1tylights @hoshitaro

[showtoonzfan]

Viv: You guys aren’t ready for Mammon, he’s going to be different, he’s going to be very ugly and messy and I’m kinda worried about my audience’s reaction cause he’s not going to be your standard hot twink, but he’s definitely plus sized so fuck anyone who says I can’t draw bigger bodies cause y’all aren’t ready just WAIT till you see him!

Mammon:

All that fuss and hype about Mammon’s design and this is what we got…..wow LOL Viv honey what you were afraid about? He looks like your standard sharp teeth and beedy eye creature who clearly still has a sex appeal and is deemed to be hot, he looks like robo fizz and for all that hype about him being plus sized, he looks like someone wearing giant clothes rather than someone who’s actually big. I mean good on you for simply stretching an image in photoshop but this isn’t anything out of the norm. Viv made him out to be as if we were going to be seeing some big nasty body-horror like creature but false alarm I guess. Had she not hyped him up I wouldn’t be so disappointed but I am. How are you ganna say this guy isn’t meant to look good when he looks like everyone else in Hell, nothing about him stands out in the slightest and I’m now convinced she only called him ugly all because he’s bigger than her normal stick anatomy. 😭

Also I don’t like his outfit, it’s cluttered and hard to look at, I don’t think the colors mesh well either, but other than that it’s just a standard design and it could have been something really cool. 😭

[dear-kumari]

Okay, topical Malevolent ep 44 reaction. Based on the wiki, it looks like the characters' choices to not return to the windmill and to get the witch's body were made by voting patrons, which further convinces me that the votes don't improve or even significantly change the story most of the time. Whenever Jorthur (yes, Jorthur) make a Patreon decision they usually have to justify it in-universe with a little debate, and besides just being kinda tedious, the justification often doesn't line up with the story's action. The patrons understandably wanted to explore the hallways over the windmill, which was justified in-universe by saying Arthur was too weak and injured to climb back there. But then the only interesting loot on offer is a piece of the witch, and once they chose that there's suddenly a big pool in the way and the world's most stabbed man suddenly has incredible lung capacity (I checked, he's underwater for 3:20 minutes and is yelling as they're launched out) and can swim with a metal breastplate on and cut through limbs once he's down there. He even conveniently brought all his shit with him despite the potential for water damage, so they didn't lose their inventory by being unexpectedly spat out. (John doesn't even sound like he's all that worried about him drowning either lol, though that's a separate issue of him being a slow horror podcast narrator first and an active character second.)

I understand why you would gamify a story loosely based on a role-playing campaign, but as someone who already doesn't get the appeal of listening to other people play TTRPGs, I struggle to imagine what the patrons get out of this (besides financially supporting a show they like, obvi). It's not really like a role-playing game because you don't control everything the protagonists do or have the context you need to make the best decisions (in this case, the characters know they dumped the witch in a deep pool, but the patrons probably didn't), nor is it really like a choose-your-own-adventure story because you don't get to try the alternate paths and everything will lead back to the author's planned narrative anyway. It's good for the story but presumably not much fun for the players that the author has an outline and an ending set in stone iirc.

Since someone could see this and go "well here's when the voting really worked for me," I did want to be fair and find an instance where the voting mechanism (probably) led to a good story choice. I like that the seemingly innocuous choice to ring the doorbell in ep 33 leads Arthur to realize that he fucked up several episodes prior by leaving his name at the hotel. That was a nice reveal, and maybe the lack of context actually made the vote more fun. It would have been revealed either way by Daniel being shot at the door, but ig Arthur stopping him before he opened it saved his life or something, idk. It feels pointless to speculate on when we're never going to see what happens if he knocks. Ultimately the difference between that and ep 44 to me, a non-patron, is just that Arthur fucking up by trying to be smart and realizing it at the last second is a good story beat, one with a clear line between cause and effect. Jorthur faffing about in the halls when they apparently could've just left through the windmill and then diving with armor on to mutilate a woman's corpse because the author is on a birth imagery kick is not.

Uhh other thoughts, I guess I am pretty glad they're finally out of the weird yonic caverns, even if I can tell that Jorthur entering civilization will lead to more ~historical liberties~ that will cause me actual pain. The voice acting is great as always. I like Yorick. I don't like that we're getting more dad!Arthur moments because come on. Also personally I would not have named the cute owl sidekick after the heavily implied CSA victim with no voice or agency from Oscar's grimdark edgyboy backstory, but that's just me

[thegamingcatmom]

Hi! >:3 This one is for the Dimi sisters, for each of them what do you think they enjoy doing around the castle? Like I imagine they are pretty bored esp in Winter where they can't go outside due to the cold, I imagine Dani and Bela could enjoy reading by the fireplace but there has to be something else to do, right? I don't think Cassandra is a bookworm like her sisters, in fact I doubt that one can be STILL for more than 5 seconds XD I have a few HC of my own like I think Bela likes to read but not romantic stuff like Dani I think she'd be mroe into learning new stuff constantly from the books she reads and I think she is into art so she likes painting in the atelier, or just sketching in a notebook while sitting by the window (I once read a fanfic where Bela learned to cook? And I found it so cute and stuff that she cooked for tehf amily etc that i accepted that HC too). Cassandra would be in the armory sharpening her weapons bc theya re never sharp enough or practicing ehr moves against a dummy, perhaps even getting Dani to play some pranks on the staff (who no one finds funny except for the both of them and getting on Bela's nerves which is a plus I guess :p) Dani... Aside from reading her romantic novels and pranking the staff with Cass I thin she'd be into poetry... she'd try her best ok? (I'm kinda lost with Dani's hobbies tbh XD) What are your own HC for their hobbies? :p Have a good day <3

HI HELLO 🫶

I love your thoughts and I absolutely agree that Cassandra is incapable of focusing on anything for too long. Her record is approx. 10 secs, which is exactly how long it takes her to string someone up, slice their jugular and watch them bleed, lmao.

However, I´d like to think that Momma Alci makes sure to keep her unruly offspring entertained, mainly because it keeps them from bugging her. Momma values her me time. 🛁😌

Besides, there´s always the maids to terrorize. That never gets old. 🤭

Reading

Mostly books that expand her knowledge, like you said. She takes after Momma in that respect. 🤭

Another thing she really likes are mystery thrillers. They have her on the edge of her seat in a way no hunt has managed yet.

She´s not that big into horror though, believe it or not. Probably because she more than gets her fill of that on a daily basis in that castle, lol.

Romance? Please. She has neither the time, nor the patience for such mundane things.

Painting, drawing

She enjoys the calm that comes with it (which is rare in that castle), but she also does it to impress Momma. 🤭

Her favorite things to paint are still lifes. Especially fruit. Especially when it´s rotten. She finds that there´s a certain beauty in the grotesque.

Her favorite things to draw are humans. Or, more specifically, their insides. Organs and bones. Or just certain body parts with the muscles exposed.

Being down in the cellar almost every day truly brought out her artistic side. It´s very...inspiring.

Playing the piano

Again, she does it mostly to impress Momma, seeing how the Lady is quite the talented pianist herself.

Her favorite things to play are dark, tragic pieces that capture the haunting spirit of her existence. Such as Beethoven – Moonlight Sonata 1st Movement.

Music holds immense significance in House Dimitrescu, so it was only natural for Bela to prioritize mastering it as soon as she was capable of forming coherent thoughts.

Stringing them up

Slicing their jugulars

Watching them bleed

...I don´t know what else to tell you, lol.

The middle daughter isn´t particularly picky about how she spends her evenings. She simply does what she does best and, more importantly, what she loves doing. That´s all the fulfillment she needs.

It´s as simple as that with her. I aspire to be like that.

HOWEVER-

I do like the idea of her sharpening and taking care of her weapons because she certainly holds them dear to her dead heart. They´re her babies. :3

HOWEVER-

I don´t really see it as a hobby because it still means "work" for her. She doesn´t cope well with that sort of thing, lol. She´d much prefer spending her precious time on actually using her sickle rather than maintaining it.

HOWEVER-

...She might just let a maid do the work for her. While she watches, ofc. Taunting her. Mocking her. Whispering sweet promises of gruesome death into her ear.

"You missed a spot...right here."

*slices that jugular with her newly sharpened sickle*

🤷🏻‍♀️

Reading

I think that one is pretty obvious. Anything romance is her jam. ;3

More Reading

Because why read your favorite book just once (multiplied by 1354641486418431) when you can dive into the manic endless realms of your own imagination OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND-

-UNTIL THE END OF TIME!!

Flirting/Roleplaying with the maids

The kitchen, the looming corridors, the cellars, the bedchambers - name any place within the castle, and it can almost always be guaranteed that Dani has left her mark - evidenced by blushing and stuttering maids.

Why hot when evil though?? 😭

Furthermore, as a direct result of her extensive reading, many maids have had the one-time opportunity to participate in one of her famously infamous plays, which focus on recreating her favorite scenes from her beloved books.

...Needless to say, that opportunity truly was a one-time affair.

.

.

.

Thanks a lot for your ask! 💋

[lemon-natalia]

Harrow the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 52

Augustine & Mercy are having a very intense convo about how they just murdered GOD and are dooming themselves, and Gideon 1.0, Gideon 2: Electric Boogaloo, and Ianthe are just … standing there

oh shit and Dominicus is gonna die and become a black hole? i mean given there’s a whole other book not sure where this is gonna go, maybe he was lying to everyone about that as well?

when Ianthe of all people is the one advocating to try and save people out of the goodness of her heart, you know you’re fucked

‘Well, Augustine, there’s something you should know’ could someone please say something in this series that isn’t ridiculously cryptic. also i totally forgot this guy was wearing Gid’s sunglasses the whole time lol

OH WAIT THE BITCH IS BACK. i knew it was too good to be true 

also YIKES poor Mercy, she was not my favourite character but god she did not deserve that

also ah. hm. the above comment did not age well

oh this guys whole persona has just shifted. He’s still got that kinda irreverent jokiness & affability but he’s also evidently very pissed off, a lot less ‘lets have tea’ and more ‘do what i say or get fucked’

'then he looked at us, gave a crooked half smile’ ohhhh he has the same. fucking. crooked smile. that Gideon has in the BARI-star dream what the fuck

and he WAS the one who ordered Gideon-Part-1 to kill Harrow, for fucks sake. at least Harrow had Ortus be nice to her briefly cuz she’s three for three on her other parental figures trying to kill her at some point 

Gideon found out her bio dad is GOD, saw him die, saw him come back to live naked, and now found out he tried to kill her (kinda maybe its complicated) girlfriend. thats just ... so many different levels of traumatising

also i keep forgetting Gideon is literally looking like Harrow for all of this

GIDEON 1.0 ISN’T GIDEON, ITS PYRRHA DVE HIS CAV?!?!? yknow what so much else is going on rn i barely have the capacity to process that

and she was also sleeping with Commander Wake, was everyone just fucking eachother????? and i thought the love quadrangle in the last book was complicated. i’m guessing she shot Wake to stop her from potentially revealing the whole ‘i’m actually alive’ thing to the Emperor then?

also wow there’s a lot of consent issues being raised in the last couple chapters and this one, not just with dios apate major, but also like … you’re having sex with someone while possessing someone else’s body without their knowledge, but also also its the only body you have because they (presumably) killed you to absorb your soul. like what.

the drama and vast existential horror of this scene is only mildly undercut by the fact that the Emperor is having this crazy fight wearing only what is essentially an opalescent bathrobe

also why are there fucking TEETH at the bottom of the River? and Tongues?? and it thinks he’s a Resurrection Beast? i feel like there’s so much more to the River that we haven’t uncovered yet

and Augustine wasn’t wrong with what he said wayy before, the Emperor really did grant him more leniency than he did Mercy, at least he gave him a chance before murdering him

also cmon Ianthe you’re really gonna save that guy, really?

'Hands pressed. We died’ AGAIN?? i mean at least this time there’s a chance for her to come back given she’s done it once before?? also i do not know what to make of her seeing Alecto before she dies at all

[serpenndragon]

cw for horror-esque design art!

Just some concept art of Bad but it's intentionally spooky this time so :P

+ some fountain pen doodles so It isnt just a text thumbnail O-o

ignore that he doesnt have his scars or uhm. hair

We need more BadBoyHalo being a scary monster so I am here to deliver 🫡 If you havent seen my other art this is his "true" form and what he's worried about the other members seeing, even though a few already know (like quackity, wilbur, niki, tubbo, ect) and the other's probbaly wouldnt judge him or see him differently other than being a bit surprised.

This is turning into a bit of a species info dump but that's what tumblr is for I guess so !

Some things to know- This strange looking ten foot tall monsterish form is what regular Wither demons normally look like! Ofc they're not always pissed like how I drew here but the unsettlingness can still stick around when theyre not trying to be threatening just because of their large teeth, claws, and well being large LOL Bad, coming from the nether originally got the gist firsthand how the overworld viewed WIther Demons and most people were scared of him, so as a safety measure and for his own anxiety he learned transfiguration magic over the coarse of a few years to create himself a smaller, less thretening form. At first it was hard and painful to maintain his smaller form (which is about 5'6, gets rid of most of his teeth, smaller horns/tail/wings that can't fly and less defined leg joints) but after a while of using it frequently along with getting better with his magic he's able to maintain it prettymuch constantly! Though he does have to revert back for at least 30 minutes a day to avoid health issues and longterm transfiguration detriments. (I had a breif idea that during purgatory he would be forced into his true form to defend himself and/or because he kept his smaller one up in front of everyone for too long) Anyyyways Dapper and most of the other babies know about his real form! He lets them ide on his back sometimes and teaches them how to fly/roar and other silly things. hmm another fun fact, Bad has the demon equivelent of a dad bod, if you notice he shed the spikes on his upper back and neck (which parent demons do so their babies can ride on their backs safely), and gained the barbs on his lower neck (which he can rattle to better communicate and imitate the call of a baby demon, it doenst serve much of a purpose with the baby dragons seeing as they aren't wither demons but they've grown fond of the sound when Bad would make it on accident, and can mimic it <3) AKA with the addition of the dragon babies his body went into dad mode like it had when JR was born, he can't really control it but doesnt really mind and it does kinda help him with them anyways. In addition to the physical changes, he's also beome incredibly protective over them Despite them not being his bloodborn children (this is common for wither demons, since their species is scarce they evolved to get these paternal instincts and hormones when they take a paternal role which was meant for ophaned baby demons but works with other species too, Bad's just like oh okay I have a handful of baby dragons my body thinks is its own now woah okay

Went off on a tangent there LMAO i could talk about him all day anyways hope you like my ideas :D