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#i say that not to dissuade people from watching but as an observation
lurkingshan · 19 days
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Happy of the End does not feel like a story of healing, or even really one of survival. To me it feels like its core thesis is that everything is fucked, and constant trauma will turn you into someone you barely recognize. These characters do not respond normally to pretty much anything and their choices are going to be bad and sometimes unpredictable. Maybe the show will have something to say about the value of connecting with someone despite all that. But I don’t think this is about love conquering anything, and I expect a rather bleak ending.
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bird-inacage · 7 months
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Love Sea the Series: Intro (First Impressions & Predictions)
Because I'm a huge over-analyser whose known for my lengthy BL essays - here are my takeaways from the very brief glimpse we got to Mahasamut and Tongrak. They gave us literally a 1 minute teaser, so as you can imagine, I'm filling in a lot of blanks at this stage.
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TONGRAK
Tongrak looks like he's going to be an unapologetic menace. A very sexy and sassy menace. He has an air of blasé indifference which screams 'yeah and so what?' you're not the boss of me'. Someone whose clearly a bit prickly, petulant and headstrong. Writers are often independent or even loners, as it's a very solitary field. They have a very strong vision of what they want, which can mean a reluctance to compromise.
I mentioned that he gives 'I know I'm hot shit' energy. He exudes a confident sexuality which is shown in how assertive he is when flirting and the smugness in how he retorts. He knows he's hot commodity and isn't afraid to flaunt it. Probably is used to having people wrapped around his little finger. 'We play by my rules, I decide if I want you or not'. At worst he may even see people around him as playthings.
Based on the general premise of the series, Tongrak comes to the seaside for inspiration. Uppity cosmopolitan city boy thrown in to the bohemian outdoors. He looks very noticeably out of place in this setting. But he may use that to his advantage, knowing others are looking at him, dazzled by a prince in the middle of literal nowhere.
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MAHASAMUT
Now what comes across most strongly about Mahasamut is that he's clearly very possessive. This is signposted multiple times in this brief introduction alone. He steals Tongrak away when he's flirting with someone else. He drags him by the wrist across the beach. I assume at this point they've not known each other long and he's being very handsy and grabby. He asserts that Tongrak 'will have to love him.' (Which could mean: I'll make you fall in love with me whether you like it or not, OR you falling in love with me is inevitable because I'm just too goddamn charming). Pretty presumptuous all the same.
This tells us that Mahasamut is equally self-assured. He has bags of confidence in his ability to keep Tongrak interested. Though he's being turned down, he doesn't appear dissuaded or phased in the slightest. Whether this is due to being generally a bit thick-headed, or putting on a front in order not to let Tongrak feel like he's won, is too early to say.
It's also worth noting that people who have such confidence in their conviction often haven't failed before. And there's a certain naivete in that. It's the whole 'through hard work and determination I can conquer all' mentality, which is not always the case.
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RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC
Now what really fascinates me about this collision of personalities is that these two are going to butt heads. A lot. Whether that's in a good-humoured tug of war, or a stubborn battle of wills. Tongrak is resistant in a 'I refuse to compromise' type of way. Mahasamut is persistent in a 'I refuse to let it go' type of way (like a dog with a bone). Neither wants to give in. Both are declaring, 'you're going to want me'.
So Tongrak and Mahasamut are not your typical match on paper. There will be fireworks (most likely good and bad). It'll probably take them much longer to find equal footing that goes beyond just sexual attraction or lust. This is why I've got a hunch the love scenes are going to pop off. We're going to get angry sex, I'm calling it now.
You could argue that Tongrak and Mahasamut do share some similarities with Sky and Prapai - particularly with the bickering and chasing - just dialled up to 100.
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OTHER OBSERVATIONS
ATMOSPHERE: The setting by the sea should prove to be a really interesting way of playing on tone. Watching those two interact whilst the wind blew around them, with the crashing of the waves in the distance was a whole mood.
CONTEXT: This feels leaps and bounds removed from the more grounded setting of Love in the Air. It almost feels like a summer fling. We're getting what appears to be a more adult backdrop, which I always greatly appreciate within the BL genre.
STYLING: Tongrak's outfits are going to murder me. The silky, drapey, billowy, low cut shirts with ample collarbone on show? CHRIST. Paired with the dainty jewellery. Kill me now.
Also, love the fact they were referring to each other as 'MISTER' and 'SIR'. Like SIR, DO YOU MIND? SIR, I'VE GOT A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU. SOMETHING GOT YOU HOT AND BOTHERED, SIR?
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heavens-moonlight · 6 months
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𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 | 𝟬𝟰 : 𝗖𝗥𝗜𝗠𝗦𝗢𝗡
𝟬𝟯 : 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 | 𝟬𝟱: 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗦 𝗢𝗥 𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦
Author’s Note: Here’s a new chapter and the next one will be up in another two weeks! It will only be downhill from here...Personally, the ending of this one is my favorite writing so far ♡
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The rest of the hike back to the retreat center is done in silence, no one daring to say a word.
There was no solace found on the journey.
Near death experience.
No way to escape.
Frozen reality.
Where do you all go from here?
Without prompt, Eun-Ha had taken on the responsibility of helping Na-Hee, allowing Hyun-Ho to switch over in support of Dong-Hyun, the latter's arm thrown over the former's shoulder, exhaustion evident in every single heavy step of his.
You can't help but observe how angry your cousin is, more than you've ever seen him before, a deep scowl present on his face. It's typical for him to blame himself when he can't protect someone, and given how you and Dong-Hyun, two of the people he cared for the most nearly lost your lives, you know he's wallowing in self-blame. If the two of you really had passed, you didn't think he'd ever let himself live with that fact.
When your eyes meet, his soften immediately, the dark look on his face passing briefly from the reassurance of the small smile you send his way. You can tell even without his direct confirmation this would become one of the moments that will haunt him forever. Even so, he'll remain strong so as not to worry you and your heart hangs heavy with that knowledge.
Noticing the silent exchange, So-Mi shuffles along in the back while constantly chewing on her nails, glancing between you, Dong-Hyun, and Eun-Ha in succession, more worried for her own life than anyone else's.
When your tears had long dried up, Jun-Hee insisted that he'd carry you on his back the remainder of the way no matter how much you refused. With your arms around his neck, your chin rests on his shoulder and your face is pressed against the side of his.
He's sweating profusely and you pull the sleeve of your blouse down to wipe off the drops that accumulate on his hairline. "Jun-Hee..." you start, a weak whisper.
"Don't," he responds gently. "I know what you're going to say."
"Then put me down, please."
"I won't." He strengthens his hold on your calves, fingers curling and uncurling, itching to touch the scratches, some more severe than others, marring the length of both your legs, the blood yet to dry.
"By the time we make it back, you're going to be in pain."
He turns his head slightly, cheek brushing against yours with an exasperated sigh. "And you think I'm not already in pain when I see you hurt?"
"But I can bear it when I'm hurt alone. I don't want anyone else to suffer because of me. Especially not you."
"Then you, more than anyone, should know how I feel."
Exhaling tiredly, you know there's no point in trying to dissuade him. Relenting, you brush the strands of hair that have fallen into his face out of the way instead, tightening your hold on his shoulders and closing your eyes, succumbing to the deep ache you finally allow yourself to feel.
A few tense minutes later, the group stands in front of the building's glass double doors, everyone stopping to stare.
The trip was pointless and you were all back where you started.
One step forward.
Two steps back.
The moment Jun-Hee pulls at the door, even without opening your eyes, you can tell the hurried footsteps belong to Yoon-Seo and Jung-Won, the two meeting you all by the entrance, having watched and waited the whole time for your return.
You feel a hand on your arm and a gasp follow. "Seol-Hwa..." comes Jung-Won's voice, shocked.
"We saw the notification. What even happened?" Yoon-Seo pats your arm soothingly, backtracking at the look on everyone's faces. "Anyway...it doesn't matter. You don't have to say anything. As long as you're back and safe."
"I'll tell you later," you utter, and Yoon-Seo nods, eyeing your injuries restlessly. Jung-Won's eyebrows are knit in worry, curiosity evident on her face although she doesn't voice it.
The remaining students await in the lobby anxiously and you tap Jun-Hee's shoulders softly to let you down but he doesn't give in. If anything, he only tightens his hold, keeping you close.
Eun-Chan comes running up in surprise. "What happened to Dong-Hyun and Seol-Hwa?" He shifts his gaze between the two of you, eyes widening at the state of Dong-Hyun's ripped clothes streaked with dirt and the bruises littering your skin.
"Say something," Mi-Na presses, voice shaky. "Why do you guys look like this?"
"Dong-Hyun..." So-Mi begins nearly inaudibly, timid. "He thought the line stopped there so he was checking. Then he slipped and Seol-Hwa tried to save him. Both of them..." she pauses, and you bite your lip hard, nearly enough to draw blood, wishing the discussion was anything but this. Her voice alone irritated you. "...Nearly went over the line."
"Funny that you should be the one to recount the story," Eun-Ha states grimly from the back.
"What are you talking about?" Yoon-Seo questions, focusing with rapt attention on Eun-Ha.
"So-Mi here, our role model of a vice president, loves to bend the truth." Eun-Ha's cryptic response has So-Mi fuming, striding over to shove her shoulder back roughly.
"Weren't you the one who told us all to vote for Yool that first night? What about that, huh?!"
"Guys, please calm down—" Yoon-Seo steps in hurriedly to pacify the situation, attempting to pull the two girls apart.
"You love to turn victims into criminals, don't you?" Eun-Ha's eyes blaze with anger, pushing So-Mi's hands away harshly. "As long as it's not you, right?" Eun-Ha crosses her arms and chuckles in So-Mi's face, a sarcastic and dry laugh devoid of humor. "I saw what you did with my own two eyes. Come to think of it, I shouldn't even be surprised. Out of all of us, you would definitely be the one to do it."
"Say it properly so we can understand." Jung-Won walks forward. "Just what the hell happened?"
"She...intentionally led them downhill under the guise of herself having slipped to guarantee that they wouldn't make it out alive." Eun-Ha points between you and Dong-Hyun, the others following with their eyes, the sight matching up.
A few of your classmate's mouths hang open in disbelief while others freeze, trying to process the information as neither you nor Dong-Hyun speak on the matter.
Where you're pressed against his back, Jun-Hee tenses up and you can feel the way his muscles stiffen, jaw clenching and head snapping toward Eun-Ha as he listens, wordlessly seething.
So-Mi rushes over to Dong-Hyun and grabs his hand desperately, the grip unreturned, her hold hanging limply. "Dong-Hyun," she pleads, trying to catch his eye as he avoids it, staring straight at the floor with Hyun-Ho glaring daggers at her. "Tell them that's not what happened."
With bated breath, she awaits his answer but regrets it the moment he speaks up, her face falling. "You didn't catch my hand earlier, so why hold it now?" He looks up at her through narrowed eyes with a look that could kill.
Head shaking, So-Mi drops his hand and falters, taking backward steps toward you as a last resort.
"Seol-Hwa...please." In a crazed manner, she turns to you with an outstretched hand. Before she can so much as graze her fingertips against you, Jun-Hee swivels his body in a way that shields you against her touch.
"Don't you dare lay a hand on her. I won't apologize for my actions if you do." His voice is cold and it makes So-Mi stop immediately, his warning like a slap of cold water across her face.
Not giving up, she turns to the crowd instead. "Are you all really going to believe Eun-Ha, the one who was the first to point fingers at innocent Yool?" She fixes each student with her gaze in turn. "Over me?!"
"What makes you think just being you gives you a pass?!" Eun-Ha slams the backpack she was carrying for Jun-Hee earlier onto the ground, the sound echoing in the still lobby. "Stop acting like you're better than everyone. You would have been a murderer, Kim So-Mi," Eun-Ha spits out with venom, articulating the name like acid that burns her tongue.
"Do you even have any proof, you bitch?!" So-Mi screams.
Calmly, Eun-Ha looks her dead in the eyes. "As if their appearance isn't enough proof," referring to you and Dong-Hyun. "Why are you so defensive then if you're not at fault? The more fervent a denial is, the stronger the confirmation."
"You're cornering me—"
"BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE HELL UP!" Kyung-Jun's voice reverberates in the space and everyone silences. "I don't give a flying fuck what your roles are right now. It's more important whether we can even leave."
He turns to Jun-Hee, regarding you behind his shoulders, eyes flickering over your form, contemplating what Eun-Ha said for a moment before shaking his head. "How far into the village were you able to go? You said you would meet people and call the police. Did you?!" Kyung-Jun's voice gets louder and louder with each sentence.
"We couldn't get anywhere. At least, not a distance that mattered. The entire place is enclosed within the lines and we're trapped here." Jun-Hee's voice is quiet and robotic, clearly hating to be the bearer of bad news.
Kyung-Jun slams his phone to the ground so hard that it ricochets and bounces a short distance away, the screen clattering on the floor.
Yoon-Seo turns in Jun-Hee's direction, looking at him hopelessly. "Then...does it mean we can't leave this place until the game is over?"
Jun-Hee nods remorsefully, the hopes of the rest falling along with his bowed head.
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You're walking up and down the floors of the building aimlessly by yourself when you spot Yoon-Seo tucked into an alcove's corner, sitting in the dark of a resting area with her head down.
Approaching soundlessly, she doesn't notice your presence until you speak up. "Yoon-Seo, are you crying?" You lower yourself into a chair adjacent to hers.
She looks up at you with red eyes brimming with unshed teardrops. The ones that have already managed to escape outline tear marks on her cheeks. "If I hadn't suggested that we could try going to the mountain, neither you nor Dong-Hyun would've almost died. Even Jun-Hee is acting differently. All of you came back like you lost your souls out there." She swipes at her eyes frustratedly, choking up with every word that comes out. "What a stupid thing for me to have said. This is all my fault. I made everyone more hopeless than they already were."
Seeing her so sad hurt your heart as her friend. You didn't blame her one bit. No one could've predicted the events. "You didn't make any of us go, Yoon-Seo." Reaching over, you place your hand over the back of hers, warming her cold ones. "We all volunteered. Even then, at least you were able to think of a solution we could try. You can't resent yourself for not knowing that there wouldn't be a real way out, could you?" You give her a genuine smile as she looks over at you. "So, what will you do? We can't leave this place until the game is over. Are you just going to waste your tears here and mourn our regrets?”
"No," she replies resolutely, placing her other hand on top of yours, making a stack in the middle, both your hands tightening with determination. "We must find another way out, no matter what it takes."
"Count me in," Jung-Won adds as she rounds the corner, joining in, the three of you sitting peacefully and comfortably in each other's presence, discussing what to do going forward. "First, why don't we try searching through the staff lounge again?" she suggests.
As the three of you approach the room, you hear muffled yells mixed in with the sound of the table phones going off.
Swinging the door open reveals Jun-Hee hunched over, screaming into the phone's receiver angrily before swiping all present office materials off the desk's surface and onto the floor.
"Yah! Jun-Hee!" Baffled, Yoon-Seo approaches him and picks up the phone he casted aside.
"What are you doing?" Jung-Won quickly flips the light switch on, bathing the room in a soft yellow glow.
"Why aren't you answering the phone?" Yoon-Seo swiftly presses the phone against her ear, listening before trying a greeting that remains unanswered.
"Forget it!" Jun-Hee yanks the phone from Yoon-Seo's grip harshly and once again, tosses it on the floor to land uselessly amongst the other things he threw away in rage.
Jung-Won glances over at you, concerned. You shut the door and walk toward him, taking his forearms in yours and hold them tight so that he'd stop making a mess of the room. "Jun-Hee, it's Yoon-Seo," you remind, shocked that he would lash out at her like that. Yoon-Seo stands still next to you, staring at him like a stranger.
His frustration boils over, and he withdraws his arms out of your grip, grabbing hold of an empty mug with all intent to smash it against the glass cabinets. Yoon-Seo and Jung-Won clench their eyes shut, prepared for the impact, but before he can chuck it, you throw your arms around his waist, hugging him tight, face pressed against his chest. "Stop! Please, Jun-Hee." In a quieter voice only for him to hear, "For me?" He trembles in your hold before immediately lowering the mug, placing it lightly on the table, all tension finally leaving his body. You pull back enough to look up at him, slightly apprehensive about the repercussions still. "What's gotten into you? You're never like this." He's the calmest person you've ever known, rarely losing his temper when uncalled for.
"It's fake. Everything is," he says, a faraway look in his eyes, irises still burning in anger.
You stretch on your tiptoes and turn his face toward yours so that your eyes can meet. Once his dark eyes focus again on yours, they soften entirely, staring at you deeply.
"What are you talking about?"
Jun-Hee slumps into the chair he was sitting in previously. "The phone lines..." he begins, dishearteningly. "They're severed. Every single one of them."
"What?" you look around the room in incredulity.
Yoon-Seo makes herself busy, going from cubicle to cubicle, confirming that even the computer wires were cut and frayed in the same manner. Closing her eyes, she drags a hand down her face, not sure what to make of the discovery.
"Look at this." Jung-Won flips through file folders and binders organized in a bookshelf by the door, tilting it in your direction. "They're all empty..."
Yoon-Seo sinks into a chair opposite yours as Jun-Hee pulls one out for you, guiding you down by the hand into it before dragging it as close to his as physically possible.
"I'm sorry, Yoon-Seo..." Jun-Hee looks her way guiltily.
"It's okay. I know you were just disappointed." She puts her head in her hands. "I too, feel like I'm about to go crazy the longer we're here." Jung-Won settles atop a desk, turning to Yoon-Seo as her friend voices her ideas. "You know, the person who created this game...What was the reason behind putting us through this? I think we need to find that out before anything else."
Jung-Won spins a pen in her hand, thinking. "Where do you think the creator of this game is? Isn't it just us here?"
"Maybe they sneak in when we fall asleep?" Jun-Hee proposes.
"It's a bit unnerving to think someone is sitting around watching us. Also, what makes us sleep automatically without being able to fight against the feeling?" You revisit the role of the announcements. "If there is someone, how come we never see them but can only hear them?" As an afterthought, you add, "If that's even their real voice or it's modulated."
"They probably killed Ju-Won when we weren't aware."
"No, I don't think so," Yoon-Seo refutes Jung-Won's statement. "We were specifically told that it was done by the Mafia." She shudders at the thought. "Only us students are part of the participants list, so it has to be those hiding among us."
"Right," you agree. "If it was someone else, their name and picture would be listed along with ours."
"They must have also chosen the Mafia members when developing the game." Jung-Won stands up, pacing back and forth. "I don't know how they decided that though, or by what criteria."
"Then, someone in our class really killed Ju-Won in cold blood?" Jun-Hee leans against the chair's headrest.
Yoon-Seo takes a deep breath and exhales heavily. "Unfortunately, according to the rules we all saw, that was more than likely what went down."
A knock interrupts your little gathering before Woo-Ram pokes his head into the room, peeking around the door until he spots Jun-Hee. "There you are. I was looking all over. Everyone's saying it's time to vote, so we should go." He looks around, addressing you, Yoon-Seo, and Jung-Won too. "All of us."
Stepping out into the hallway, Jun-Hee looks at Woo-Ram incredulously. "Yool died after we voted and they still have the heart to go through with that again?"
Sighing, Woo-Ram hangs his head. "What else can we do? We can't leave until the game is over." Na-Hee rounds the corner just then with Hyun-Ho and Dong-Hyun in tow. "None of us have much of a choice."
Yoon-Seo tries to persuade him, regardless of the circumstances. "Still, how can we sacrifice someone? We have to stop them. As a group, we mustn't vote at all."
"Wait, Yoon-Seo." You hold her back from marching off to find the others and talking them out of it. If we want to convince them, we need an alternative otherwise they won't listen."
"I'll do it," Jun-Hee decides with determination. "Are the rest gathered together?"
"No, nearly everyone's in their room," Woo-Ram juts his thumb at the closed doors all down the hallway.
"Can you assemble them for me?"
Woo-Ram nods and Na-Hee agrees to help him round everyone up. "But...there's something you should know." Woo-Ram pulls Jun-Hee aside. "Da-Bum is being cornered by Kyung-Jun's crew downstairs. It was where I saw them last."
Hyun-Ho curses under his breath. "Those bastards. I never liked them." Without waiting any longer, he walks away, Dong-Hyun and Jun-Hee hot on his heels.
You, Yoon-Seo, and Jung-Won all fall into step behind, hoping that nothing had befallen Da-Bum yet at the hands of the cruel group.
It doesn't take long to locate the boys, screaming and shouting heard loud and clear coming from the cafeteria.
Jun-Hee swings the doors open, nearly hard enough to throw it off its hinges as it slams into the wall behind. "That's enough! What on earth are you doing?" Jun-Hee pulls Kyung-Jun away from Da-Bum, jostling Jin-Ha and Seung-Bin away in opposite directions. "What's your deal with him anyway? Is it fun for you to belittle others?"
You run in and help Da-Bum to his feet. "Get up, Da-Bum." A quick glance-over reveals he hasn't suffered too much yet, your group having arrived in time to prevent disaster. Yoon-Seo is by your side in mere moments, assisting to take him away not within reach of the three bullies. Jung-Won directs him backward further from the entrance so that he's blocked by your group, standing where someone would have to go through everyone before getting to him again.
Hyun-Ho steps up, leaving Dong-Hyun to look over all of you. "Three on one guy? Aren't you ashamed of yourselves?" he scoffs with disdain.
"Where do you think you're going?!" Kyung-Jun balls his fists up and makes a beeline for Da-Bum, but Jun-Hee elbows his chest hard, forcing him back.
"Cut it out."
"You can't stop me even if you are the class president." Kyung-Jun slides his upturned eyes over angrily. "Why do I have to listen to you?"
Wanting to help out his friend, Hyun-Ho further adds fuel to the fire by shouldering Kyung-Jun until he lands on the floor.
"You're not the boss of me either." Kyung-Jun balls his hands tightly, staring Hyun-Ho down as he gets back up. "Understood?"
You watch with trepidation, sensing a huge blowup about to take place and not being able to do anything to stop it without escalating the situation.
"You jerks never get it when I say it nicely. Guess I need to teach you a lesson, huh?" Hyun-Ho turns around to grab a metal container off a well-organized display of snacks, smacking Kyung-Jun on the head with it before proceeding to launch him over the very same counter, the table collapsing inward under Kyung-Jun's weight, products flying every which way.
Usually Kyung-Jun would back off and take revenge in some other way when spectators are none the wiser. However, with the presence of so many people, he needed to prove his point and show the control he had, which was in reality, very little. You rear back, knowing that to jump into the middle of this would both be stupid and pointless. Hyun-Ho and Kyung-Jun's rivalry has simmered for a long time with no one truly knowing the real reason behind it.
Seung-Bin looks around, eyes settling on a trash can, immediately upending it to smash against Hyun-Ho. It hits him square in the back and he wavers slightly but doesn't give up.
A kick behind from Kyung-Jun has him pivoting on his heel as the former grabs one of the foldable metal chairs scattered throughout the room to hoist overhead, trajectory sailing toward his opponent.
Luckily, Hyun-Ho ducks right as it brushes atop his head, the chair collapsing into itself and thumping with a loud clang into the opposite wall, sending bagged chips and snacks falling from the shelves upon impact.
The food rains down and Hyun-Ho quickly tosses them in succession at Kyung-Jun's face, the two ending up engaged in a fistfight on pure strength alone, no more creative petty methods as distraction.
Kyung-Jun winds up no match against Hyun-Ho and gets flipped onto his back, crashing into the ground harshly. Seung-Bin and Jin-Ha also get tossed to the side easily, incapable of retaliating for the time being.
Hyun-Ho hovers over Kyung-Jun to pin him to the ground with a tight grip around his collar, forcing him down to the spot.
"Let go of me," Kyung-Jun grits out, thrashing around in vain as Hyun-Ho has no intention of freeing him. "I said let go, you son of a bitch." Though he tries to appear threatening, you watch the rapid rise and fall of his chest, knowing the fight has left him. He's aware that he has lost, fair and square.
Hyun-Ho tightens his hold, squeezing Kyung-Jun's neck hard enough that he starts sputtering, glaring up revengefully. "Then, are you going to finally listen? Will you do as I say?"
Kyung-Jun uses his last spurt of energy to bat Hyun-Ho's fists away from his throat, kicking him off. "Fine, you bastard."
Hyun-Ho brushes off his hands and pants, all the more disgusted at the sight of the messy cafeteria. As he turns to everyone waiting by the door, Kyung-Jun grabs something from the counter, hiding it out of view beside his leg before making a beeline toward Hyun-Ho.
Jun-Hee dashes over and bends his arm back before the rest of you can even register he has in his possession.
You look up to see him wielding a pair of scissors meant to stab Hyun-Ho by way of petty retribution. Without hesitation, you drag Hyun-Ho out from the room, knowing the more Kyung-Jun sees him, the angrier he'll become. "Gaesaekki, get back here! I'm not through with you yet.”
Having had enough of standing around as a mere spectator, you step into the room before Hyun-Ho can stop you, moving Kyung-Jun away from Jun-Hee and stand between them. "Will you give it a rest for goodness' sake?!" He simply fixes you with a steely glare but halts, gauging your reaction. "Can I tell the others what you just did? What do you think they'd say if they knew you were willing to kill someone?" You keep your tone even and face neutral, wanting to appear reasonable rather than confrontational as much as possible. Kyung-Jun relents after a short pause, albeit reluctantly, weighing the consequences. "Come to your senses."
Jung-Won sidles up beside you in support. "What's the point of talking to him?" She points a finger, jabbing it against his chest. "If we vote on you now, everyone else will follow suit. Do you want me to press your name?" Taunting him, she goes so far as to pull out her phone. "I can do it easily. Say the word and I won't think twice."
"You bitch," he grits out between clenched teeth, trying to snatch Jung-Won's device.
You grab his balled-up fist even as he tries to evade it, fingers clenching around the scissors in his right hand. "Drop this now and I promise I won't let the others know." Not backing away from his glare, you stand your ground. "Just stop here."
Surprisingly, Kyung-Jun yields to you, his curled knuckles loosening in your grasp as he thinks better of his odds against your large group. Removing your hand from his, you turn it palm side up, tilting your head toward it. Getting the hint, Kyung-Jun slaps the scissors into your outstretched fingers and steps closer threateningly, lowering his head down to look straight into your eyes. "You better keep to that promise or I won't sit still."
"Aish shibal," Seung-Bin spits out from the corner where he's slumped in a heap nursing his sore arm, forced to surrender.
You regard Kyung-Jun for the last time as you turn to leave, his eyes following when you stop short to mention, "We're all going to gather in the assembly hall in a short while. Come once you've all calmed down."
As everyone files out, Hyun-Ho throws one final remark at the bullies. "You better leave the cafeteria door open and accessible for everyone to use unless you want a repeat of this."
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After the confrontation, you had dragged Hyun-Ho and Dong-Hyun by the ears to the infirmary despite the two of them protesting all the way.
Once there, you push both of their shoulders down onto the beds so hard they bounce back up before settling into the mattress, their weight dipping the material.
You stand before them with arms crossed, eyeing their identical meerkat expressions in all seriousness.
The two look back and forth between one another before glancing back up at you inquisitively, entirely confused.
"Why are we here again?" Hyun-Ho speaks up.
"This is like couple's therapy," Dong-Hyun mumbles under his breath and Hyun-Ho elbows him as you roll your eyes.
"You guys never listen," you scold, flicking both of them above the eyebrows.
"Yah!" They say in unison, hands coming up to their foreheads in sync.
"Always getting into trouble. Making me worried," you mumble, busying yourself around the room gathering supplies.
"Talk about yourself," Hyun-Ho retorts, touching his forehead where a red mark is still imprinted. You press the q-tip you were holding dipped in antiseptic and squish it against his cut lip hard, narrowing your eyes as he winces in pain and flinches away from you. "Watch it! Can't you be a bit gentler?"
"Oops, my bad," you tease with a sarcastic smile. "Tough love."
Dong-Hyun tries to hide his chuckle before you also turn to him with an ice pack in your extended hand and he swallows the next fit of laughter immediately. "It's not funny," he says, suddenly stoic. "Nothing is funny." Looking to the side and up at the ceiling, he begins to whistle, hoping to avoid the same fate as Hyun-Ho.
You laugh, hiding your smile behind your hand. "I don't know. This is pretty funny." You place the ice pack lightly down into his lap, pressing it against his stomach where he slipped face-first down the dirt hill earlier on the cliff.
"Why is he being treated better than me?" Hyun-Ho sulks.
"Because he has more injuries, none of which he intended to have." Dong-Hyun sticks his tongue out at Hyun-Ho, enjoying being off the hook. "And you," you start, tapping your forefinger against Hyun-Ho's forehead, shoving it back lightly. "You willingly put yourself into less than desirable situations without thought and get hurt for fun."
"This time there was a reason!" Hyun-Ho argues. "It's not fair for them to act all mighty when they're really nothing."
You sigh, dabbing his lip and some scratches visible on his face with ointment so that it'll heal faster. "I know there is," you concede. "But do you think Kyung-Jun cares about that?" You step back and look at the boys in front of you. "This game...we don't know how it will end. It's best if we try to avoid conflict as best we can. We can't begin to imagine what anyone is capable of with ill intent and a deep-seated grudge that refuses to go away."
"We can protect you!" Dong-Hyun chimes in. "I owe you my life."
You run a hand through your hair, fond but exasperated. "I don't want you guys to have to risk your own wellbeing for mine. I can take care of myself, you know?"
"We know," Hyun-Ho answers. "But that doesn't make us any less worried for your safety."
"Then, can you at least promise me to put your safety before my own? Please?" you plead, knowing how the boys are, unyielding in their principles. You step forward and pull them both into an embrace, their arms coming around you immediately and squeezing tight, the circle becoming smaller in the group hug.
"Are you trying to convince us with your affection or what?" Hyun-Ho's voice comes out muffled where his face is pressed into your shoulder.
"Depends," you say. "Is it working?"
"Feels weird. We never hug."
"Don't get used to it."
For once, Hyun-Ho is solemn, hugging you tighter. "Promise."
"I don't hear anything from you Dong-Hyun," you tease.
He pats your back firmly. "I promise."
"We'll all make it out of here together," you say to them quietly. "Wherever we go, as long as we have one another."
With one last squeeze, you release the two of them, insisting that they head to the auditorium first while you clean up the infirmary. By how the game was already going, you felt like this was as good a place as any to know like the back of your hand. Heavens knows more and more will be injured the longer this goes on.
You've only just started looking through the medical supply cabinet when the door to the room slams open, bounding off the wall with a hard thump.
A hand placed over your heart in shock, you swivel your head toward the sound, seeing Kyung-Jun with one foot nudging the door open, keeping it from swinging shut.
Looking behind him with his hands in his pockets, he hasn't yet realized you were even in the room at the moment. As he sighs and lifts his head from the previous position, his hand also reaches up toward his face, touching his split lip.
You're gawking still, bandages in one hand and antiseptic in the other. It was unusual to see Kyung-Jun look, if you dared to say it, so down and defeated.
Finally, he steps over the threshold and kicks the door closed behind him, looking up and stilling as his eyes make contact with yours. You don't miss them widening slightly, clearly expecting the room to have been unoccupied.
Without saying a word, he turns on his heel about to leave, but putting the clues together, you stop him in his tracks.
"You clearly came for something."
"That's none of your business," he replies evenly, one hand on the doorknob.
"Then, I'll leave so you can stay," you offer.
You see his fingers slackening from the handle before he spins around again, analyzing you. The silence is uncomfortable, and his penetrating gaze, suffocating. Whatever it is he was searching for in your expression finally settles a look of indifference over him, his shoulders slumping.
"No." He takes a few steps forward, still staring at you. "You were here first."
Your eyebrows knit together, not quite understanding. "Come again?"
He purses his lips together, clearly regretting having remained in the room when he should've left. "Stay and do whatever you need to do and I'll wait until you're done."
Kyung-Jun plops himself on the bed Hyun-Ho and Dong-Hyun were just seated on earlier and the atmosphere is such a stark difference, you're tempted to pinch yourself to see if you happened to be hallucinating. Never in your right mind would you ever think you and Kyung-Jun could be in the same place at once without the former going on a rampage. You two were not the type of people who belonged together in any type of setting.
He leans against the hospital bed frame and kicks his leg out on the length of it, remaining quiet.
Decidedly, You don't say anything more and go back to sorting through the supplies, earnestly wanting to get out of the room as soon as possible. The only reason you didn't go escaping at the first sight of Kyung-Jun was you didn't want him to think you feared him at all in any capacity. He always used others' distress as leverage against them to remain in control and you weren't going to fall prey to that trap.
"When will you be done?" he asks, and you can feel the slight irritation in his voice rising.
"Soon," you counter curtly, disregarding his presence. Despite that, you can feel his stare fixated on the back of your head.
You hear rustling followed by liquid sloshing and you turn around just in time to see Kyung-Jun about to smear something on his face from a suspicious bottle that looks a lot like the one you told Na-Hee to use for her foot. You scurry over in a haste and yank it away from Kyung-Jun.
"What the fuck?!" He curses, as a q-tip drops from his hand, tumbling to the floor. His eyes are narrowed in slits as he glowers at you. "Didn't I tell you to do your thing and I'll do mine?"
"This..." you reveal to him in an even tone, pointing to the brown bottle, "...is for the feet only."
His eyes shift over to the label on the bottle he definitely did not read earlier in your grasp. If you didn't know any better, you would say he looks a little sheepish and embarrassed at the blunder.
"Aish," he groans, hand once again going to his lip as the wound stretches from the movement of forming words.
Shaking your head, you walk back to the cabinets, setting the bottle on a high shelf and grabbing the antiseptic you stored away earlier. With new cotton swabs and circular bandaids in hand, you approach Kyung-Jun and place it on the bedside table.
"I'll do it for you."
"I didn't ask."
"First, you came here to the infirmary for an obvious reason," you start ticking off on your fingers what you've observed. "Two, you could've kicked me out like you usually do to others that are in your space." He makes to speak but you plow on, unperturbed. "And finally, the third and most important point, you clearly don't know what you're doing." You look at him with a pointed stare. "Isn't that why you allowed me to stay? You weren't going to ask for help, but on the off chance you swallow your pride and decide to, it's better to have someone here. Am I wrong?"
"No, but I don't like to admit that I am."
"You can try, starting from today."
That draws a smirk from Kyung-Jun. "I like you better than Hyun-Ho." He glances up at your face again from his seated position, swinging his legs over the side and onto the ground, scooting to the edge and closer to you. "You have guts," he says, tapping his forefinger near his lip. "Go ahead." He visibly has to bite his tongue after, inwardly reprimanding himself for having said it at all. Shaking himself out of it, Kyung-Jun closes his eyes and lifts his chin up, inclining his head toward yours.
He's tall even as he's sitting, and you have to lean forward, bending at the waist to be able to clean both his lip and his forehead wound. It wasn't hard to fall out of favor with Kyung-Jun who more or less saw everyone like a thorn in his side, yet for some unknown reason, he tolerates you—back in the cafeteria and even now.
You pause with a swab in hand, not exactly sure how to touch his face. The wait has him opening his eyes, one at a time until they're focused on you, gaze steadfast. "Don't get scared now." He pulls your free hand against the side of his face in a much gentler manner than you expected. "I don't bite."
You look up at him, considering, and he lifts his brows at you. "We'll see."
The corner of one side of his lips quirk up in amusement, but he doesn't say anything else, opting to stare straight at you as you work, easily disinfecting the hurt areas and applying ointment after, waiting for it to dry before you can cover it up. Kyung-Jun's eyes lazily trail the path of your pupil's movements as you inspect the wounds, but he sits still otherwise, not flinching at all, no matter how deep you press the q-tip in certain spots.
"You sure have a high pain tolerance," you intone more so to yourself, having a habit of voicing your thoughts at times.
"I do, but I can't lie that this still hurts like a bitch."
"And you decided to not say anything?"
"You're gentle."
You tilt your head at him in perplexity, and he runs a frustrated hand through his hair. "Don't give me that look."
"What look?"
He doesn't say anything anymore, and you don't push it, bewildered and curious all at once. You were genuinely confused. His labile personality was giving you whiplash but you power through it and finally place the bandaids on him, stepping away.
"You didn't give me weird themed ones, did you?" He inquires suspiciously, tapping both bandaids to make sure.
"Of course not. That would be a waste of the nice ones."
He studies you for a moment, halting his movements before finally getting back up to his feet. "Don't tell anyone I was here." Gone was his usual bravado and you finally understand why he had ditched Seung-Bin and Jin-Ha back in the cafeteria, along with the explanation for his shifty actions prior to entering the room. He didn't want to be seen as weak.
"I wouldn't dream of it," you confirm resolutely, finding no necessary reason to ever bring it up to anyone anyway.
"I mean it." Kyung-Jun points a finger at you. "If you do, I'll kill you."
"People who truly want to kill someone won't announce it beforehand. They just will."
Kyung-Jun lowers his arm, having been caught in his bluff and contemplates your very nature at the core, stare lingering before shaking his head to himself and striding toward the door. As he opens it to step outside, he pivots and casts his attention on you once more. "That look... I hate it like crazy." It finally registers to you that he was circling back to what he said earlier. "Your eyes...." he pauses, gaze flitting back and forth between your own. "Some people will misunderstand and think you actually care."
With that, he leaves, and you're left in the dark wondering if by some people he was referring only to himself.
As you finally make it to the gymnasium, everyone is congregated in a circle, the atmosphere tense and somber. You slip in beside Jun-Hee with Yoon-Seo to your right cradling her phone.
"I gathered all of you here not to decide whom we should vote for, but to give up on voting for good," Jun-Hee starts, hushed murmurs spreading through the crowd.
"Abandon voting?" someone probes with uncertainty. "Are you sure about that?"
"If we vote, one person is guaranteed to die. If we don't, we all stay alive."
"What if we agree to this but someone votes in secret. What will you do then?"
Although Mi-Na wasn't outrightly rejecting the idea, you didn't think she was really in favor of it either, going by the questions she brought up, her wariness ran high. You didn't blame her for you could count on one hand those you without reasonable doubt one hundred percent trust.
"She has a point," Ji-Soo concurs. "How can we truly believe you that this is the best option for us all?" Yu-Jun doesn't chime in, settling for taking glances at his girlfriend as he quietly debates the suggestion.
"We should at least try to trust one another," Jun-Hee resolves. "We can collect the phones so no one will be allowed to vote."
Eun-Ha nods, deep in thought. "He's right. That'll work." You look over at her, analyzing her actions and statements up until now. Call it your astuteness or pure instinct, but she in no way, shape, or form struck you as a Mafia member.
Ji-Soo continues to dissect Jun-Hee's idea, not so readily agreeable. "Who's going to guard the phones, then? The person in charge might change their minds last minute."
She's not wrong per se, given that your classmates were willing to go through with murder, a small betrayal like this didn't seem too far fetch.
Yoon-Seo gestures with her phone to the center of the court. "In the middle. We can all keep watch over it."
"What if someone steals it?" Mi-Na adds in, looking around at everyone's faces lacking confidence. "I'm not doing it." She takes a step back, crossing her arms and hiding her phone. "Don't count on me handing in my phone."
"I think it's a decent plan," Yu-Jun speaks up weakly, daring to take a peek at his girlfriend this time, linking arms with her. "Let's give our phones, yeah?"
Ji-Soo retracts her arm, rounding on him, her open blouse flapping wildly. "Are you crazy?!"
As the couple argues back and forth much less strained than you expected, probably due to Yu-Jun's calm demeanor and ability to recognize Ji-Soo's short temper, it helps her simmer down somewhat, the two going on to hold a conversation despite their differences.
"Can't you live without your phone for a few minutes?!" Joo-Young outbursts against Mi-Na, reaching out toward her friend's mobile device.
Mi-Na evades Joo-Young's hands and sidesteps the circle. "Why the hell are you yelling at me?!" Angrily, she tugs her hair roller out from its strong hold on her bangs and tosses it to the floor in a show of defiance.
"Gosh, you all are noisy and annoying," Kyung-Jun bellows, everyone immediately shutting up. "Banjang is actually making sense for once. Why won't you cooperate?" Looks are thrown around the room, curious as to why Kyung-Jun is siding with Jun-Hee. He doesn't agree with anyone or follow the rules, gladly making his own to follow. When no one says a word, Kyung-Jun grits his teeth and fixes everyone with a menacing stare. "I'm not asking. I'm telling you to do it, and you better damn well listen to me when I'm being nice." He emphasizes the end of his sentence, purposefully throwing it in Hyun-Ho's direction, echoing the words relayed to him previously.
The wait that follows is excruciating after Kyung-Jun collects phones and thumps the trash can haphazardly into the center ring. You and Yoon-Seo had tied white ropes in a line and placed it around the receptacle, enclosing it within, almost like no-man's land.
[ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴠᴏᴛᴇ. ]
No matter how many times you hear the announcement, it still makes goosebumps run across your skin and your hair stand on end, habituated to expect the deathly siren to follow.
"Yah Prez, are you sure we'll be alright?" Seung-Bin probes, head in his hands and fingers running through his buzzed hair repetitively, visibly anxious.
Calmly, Jun-Hee replies to him but doesn't take his eyes away from the collection bin. "Let's just wait a little longer. It's not midnight yet."
"Fuck this shit..." Seung-Bin curses as he settles down, trying to manage his restlessness by wringing his hands in his lap instead.
All around you, your classmates are either sitting frozen with eyes unmoving from the center, biting their nails to the nub, or pulling their hair out in worry, scattered in various spots. Some are in chairs, others are on the floor, and the remaining are lying down like they've given up already.
You're no better, sitting cross-legged with your eyes transfixed on the clock by the exit sign, unwilling to remove your eyes from the second hand. 30 seconds to go. Every tick of the black plastic has your heart beating along with it, palpitations irregular and resoundingly loud in your ears. You don't realize you're bouncing your leg repeatedly against the heel of your foot below it until Jun-Hee lays a warm palm on the exposed skin of your knee, just below the cover of your skirt and you turn to him, his eyes silently questioning.
You nod and smile back, trying to not make it as strained as it feels. His touch is a welcoming distraction in forcing you to stop staring at the numbers on the clock you've been so focused on that the printed dots and dashes begin to blur into a swipe of black and white, hypnotizing you.
All of a sudden, Woo-Ram springs up, his metal hair skidding back as the legs screech against the wooden floors. He points with a shaky finger toward the clock. "Hey, hey, hey." He pats those next to him hurriedly. "It's past midnight now and there was no announcement. Did it work...?"
You whip your head toward the clock and sure enough, it was now well past twelve, time ticking by so much faster than when you were waiting on it.
"Have we made it?" So-Mi's eyes widen in shock, the first time you've seen a true reaction from her not screened by her fake acting.
"We did it..." Jun-Hee whispers as you both spring to your feet, unable to believe in the miracle of a loophole.
Joo-Young turns to Mi-Na, grabbing and shaking her in excitement. "It's over! We've beaten the game!"
Jun-Hee draws you into a triumphant hug, holding you close. You can feel the smile on his face as he presses his cheek against yours. He's squeezing you so tight, it almost lifts you off the ground, your arms winding around his neck as you stretch on tiptoes, celebrations breaking out all around you.
In a matter of seconds, the smile drops right off of your face and your throat closes up as the alarm blares incessantly, signaling a broken rule.
Jun-Hee's arms fall from around your waist as he falters back, staring at the intercom, almost wishing he could will it away.
[ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄɪᴘᴀɴᴛs ᴍᴜsᴛ ᴠᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪғʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ. ]
Without a second thought, Joo-Young scurries toward the trash can of phones.
"What are you doing?!" Hyun-Ho yells to closed ears.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Joo-Young counters, spinning around to look at him, crazed. "Nothing else but grabbing my phone." She gestures wildly at everyone's sheer panic. "And if we do nothing only to die? Are you going to take responsibility?!"
"You can't return lost lives and you know it," Mi-Na reiterates, hastily moving to where Joo-Young is standing right on the ropes acting as a barrier.
"Wait..." Jun-Hee splutters.
"For what are we hesitating? We're still doomed," Joo-Young says with frustration.
"Stop blaming Jun-hee and settle down," So-Mi states from her spot on a chair, unmoving. Her friends listen to her for the time being and you wonder what she has over their heads that they willingly cater to her and heed her every beck and call.
Mi-Na's abrupt scream pierces the room as a body unexpectedly drops from atop the bleachers onto the floor with a sickening thud.
Your blood runs cold as you eye your fellow classmate, knowing a drop from that height would've crushed her organs resulting in internal hemorrhage with only fatality as the outcome.
There's no salvation.
Your hands shake and you have to clasp them together hard enough that your knuckles lose all color. Even then, they continue to tremble.
You wonder belatedly if in this position you could pray. Would the gods offer saving grace, or have they abandoned you too?
Instantaneously, another body plops down on top of the previous one, the impact so hard the corpses rebound off the ground before plopping with listless limbs back to the floor, the cracking of bones clacking.
Blood pools, a sea of red expanding vaster and vaster.
[ ғᴏʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜʟᴇs, ʟᴇᴇ sᴏᴏ-ʙɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴊɪ-ʜᴏᴏɴ, ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴄɪᴛɪᴢᴇɴs, ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ. ]
"Grab your phones if you don't want to wind up like them!" Kyung-Jun shouts across the gymnasium as someone chucks the trash can overhead and phones scatter every which way.
Complete pandemonium and utter chaos ensue as every single person resort to crawling on all fours to locate their phones, no less like grave sinners atoning for their wrongdoings, groveling for leniency and forgiveness.
[ ғᴏʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜʟᴇs, ᴏʜ ᴊɪɴ-sᴇᴏᴋ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ. ᴏʜ ᴊɪɴ-sᴇᴏᴋ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ᴄɪᴛɪᴢᴇɴ.]
Jun-Hee's legs give out and he falls onto the floor, staring lifelessly into the void of the room, unblinking, overcome by the burden of guilt and the deaths he sentenced innocent individuals to inadvertently.
"Jun-Hee..." you call out weakly as you kneel beside him, receiving no answer for the first time.
A deafening silence befalls upon the room as bodies continue to barrage down with every passing minute from the rafters, lifeless forms hurtling to the ground with abandon amidst the crimson flashing lights.
The danger.
The warning signs.
Red as pure evil.
Why didn't anyone see it sooner?
Why didn't you?
But how could you? When Jun-Hee's still here in front of you, dressed in white, like a fallen angel succumbed to watching human suffering. Your eyes can only see him even in the shroud of red, but you're forced to remove your rose-tinted glasses. No, this shade of red isn't the color of love, of ardor, or of vitality.
It is the color that dyes the remnants of anger, uncontrolled flames, and stains of blood.
Not even the gentle flashes of white associated with light, goodness, and transcendence can mask the deep hue permeating all around.
Instead of peace, you see madness.
Instead of bliss, you see misery.
Instead of life, you see death.
No more did the divine exist in white.
The gods aren't here—you're all alone.
Yet, try as you might, how can you dare to blame the gods when humans are the most dangerous of all?
Unforgiving.
Unrelenting.
Self-persevering.
Plain naïve.
You had hoped—hoped so desperately.
But to hope is to risk disappointment. Now it's gone and left, leaving you exposed and vulnerable, clinging onto the shreds of previously existing innocent expectations.
The space has become a battlefield littered with bodies and drenched in torrents of blood.
Red meant war.
And you're losing the fight.
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𝟬𝟯 : 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 | 𝟬𝟱: 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗦 𝗢𝗥 𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦
© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟’ 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨, 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.
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an-ambivalent · 1 year
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Yandere! FE3H House Leaders Headcanons
Warnings: As this is yandere fiction, this deals with behaviours  that can be uncomfortable and triggering to read. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fictional, I do not condone this behaviour irl. By clicking the ‘read more/keep reading’ you are consenting to read this at your discretion.  
Characters:  Edelgard, Claude & Dimitri 
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Edelgard 
Type: clingy & delusional 
~Edelgard finds herself lured by your strength and grit. You may or may not be physically strong, but it is your mental fortitude that arises her initial interest in you. During the academy days, she observed how despite the obstacles in your way, and the adversities of your past, you never broke down. You faced whatever came your way head on, or in the instance challenges deterred you momentarily, you always bounced back. She admired this because it was a reflection of who she was as well, and no matter what battle or war, this essence of intrapersonal strength was the most critical part to determine the last ones standing. 
~She wants you to be part of the Black Eagles - she needs people with your vitality by her side when she plans to start the war as the Adrestine Emperor. Edelgard is driven, if nothing else - ruthlessly ambitious to achieve what she wants. So, there’s no stopping until you are part of the Black Eagles. 
~Once you are part of the Black Eagles, Edelgard inevitably can spend more time with you; by doing so, she sees how hard you work and your unique brilliance that makes you excel in your area of expertise. However, it is your dedication that really makes her fall for you. Subsequently, she begins to imagine your future together. She envisions a new Fodland, unified under the Adesterine Empire. A new era where crests and the church are meaningless, and you’re there to rule right by her side. The rewritten history records would speak of the Flame Emperor and her lover who changed the world with their storm, and their shared ambitions and power that reshaped the sovereignty of Fodland. Eventually, she becomes so consumed by these delusions of your future together, she starts to believe that you are already together. There is no courting, or even asking. It’s just the reality and it’s really frustrating for her when you continue to attempt to dissuade from it. So, she has no other option except to be by your side and cling to you until you realise this. 
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Claude 
Type: manipulative & overprotective 
~You were an enigma, and Claude wanted to figure you out. You always wore a genuine bright smile on your face, and kept a cheerful energy. Even during times when everyone else would be visibly upset, you never were. You always maintained your cheerfulness, almost as if you didn’t allow yourself to feel your other emotions. And so out of curiousity, Claude started to watch you discreetly. He noticed that he was right in his assumptions; you never let your true emotions show. In times when something displeased, annoyed, or upset you, it would be only for a mere moment where your mask would slip and your true expression would show. Otherwise, that smile would continue to remain. 
~Truthfully speaking, Claude rather preferred the moments where you were just you, instead of wearing that smile he was beginning to detest. He wanted to dig deeper and see more of you to understand why you hid yourself and didn’t trust your housemates enough to show yourself. What could you possibly be hiding? 
~Claude was cunning and great at maintaining his own facade if nothing else. Perhaps, that’s why he felt drawn to you in the first place. Since you piqued his interest, he couldn’t just let you go without undoing you. He decided that he was going to break you down to nothing to unveil your secrets if that’s what it took. 
~Slowly and surely, Claude started to single you out. From observing you so much, he had a grasp on what he had to say and what buttons to push to set you off. It started off slowly - a brief pointing out of an insecurity, until it kept growing. Seeing that you weren’t close to breaking no matter how much he tried, Claude nearly gave up. But just before he did, you gave in. 
~You couldn’t tolerate his bullying any longer; it reminded you too much of the trauma you experienced at home, and to escape from all of that, was exactly why you came to the Officers Academy in the first place.
~As you break down, and start to Claude why he was being so mean to you and beg him to stop, disclosing hints of your trauma in the process, he achieved his goal. He came to understand that you hid yourself because that’s what you had been shamed for, and that’s who you had been traumatised to hide. It was abhorrent because you were so lovely - the real you, the delicate you. You deserved much more than you had ever been given, and he was going to give that to you. 
~He embraced you, gently rubbed your back to soothe you, and started to mumble apologies. Then, once you settled, the scelara of your eyes red from the crying, and tears hanging onto your eyelashes, he thought you were so pretty. He cupped your face, and turned it so you were looking up directly in his eyes. 
“You don’t have to hide yourself anymore. I promise I won’t let anyone else hurt you. I’ll kill them if they even try.” 
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Dimitri  Type: clingy, stalker, & possessive  
~If love-at-first-sight trope met puppy love trope, that’s how your story starts with Dimitri. Definitely, there is physical attraction from the moment he saw you. But more than that, there was also a strange and immersive pull he felt towards you that would make him believe you two were destined soulmates if he was the type of person to blindly believe in such nuances. So, while there was something that felt akin to love at first sight, Dimitri never acted on it, or had plans to act on it. It was something he was aware of, acknowledged, and planned to never think about again. Well, not until you joined the Blue Lions, and then, he had no choice but to be in close proximity to you. 
~You have many good qualities and traits that Dimitri admired. But the one that he valued the most, was your kindness. You were always ready to lend a hand to anyone that needed it. You were always there to support and listen to your housemates whenever they required it. But who was there for you when you needed it? Realistically, your housemates were reliable and all of your support and help was reciprocated when you needed it as well. That’s what you loved about the Blue Lions, and had joined their house in the first place. But for Dimitri, whenever you were present, you were the only thing he ended up focusing on. Everything else was as easy to tune out as white noise. So for him, no was ever there for you. He needed to be there for you. And that’s how his puppy love started. 
~He starts to leave little presents for you - your favourite snacks, flowers, tea, etc. At first, it was flattering, the way most people would feel when they notice they have a secret admirer. You looked forward to finding the things you liked and reading the sweet notes filled with small and delightful compliments that accompanied them. However, it became frightening when the presents were left in your private spaces like your bedroom. With everything that started to happen with the Flame Emperor and the other assaults at the church recently, you didn’t wait around until something more serious happened to address the problem. Immediately, you asked to speak with your house leader privately, and brought up your concerns. 
It was great how proactive you were. You noticed something suspicious and immediately took action to address it; this showed your capability too. But, it was such a shame that you went to the preparator himself. 
Dimitri was hurt that you found his expressions of love for you suspicious and suspected him of being a ‘stalker’. But, he was a realist; he understood that love took time and love took hard work. If he was the type to act on mere biological lust, then he would have courted you from the moment he met you. Nonetheless, he was perfectly content with working hard as well and helping you realise that you belonged together. 
“It’s hurtful that you became suspicious of my presents. I just wanted to show you how much I love you,” he started, stepping closer and closer to you, until he had his arms wrapped around you. 
“W-What?” 
“But it’s okay. I understand that you have not realised your feelings for me yet. I’m more than happy to help you with that.” He whispered softly, before clumsily locking his lips with yours. 
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captain-mj · 1 year
Text
Vampire Part 7
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
Ghost and Soap just stared at Price as he started to ramble about his fiance. 
Dark hair. Pale skin. Beautiful and lovely accent. 
“That doesn’t sound like Graves.” Soap asked tentatively, looking confused. He was under the impression they were going swimmingly. 
“Unfortunately… Graves… turned me down.” Price looked close to tears. Eyes going red as bloody tears filled them. “I asked him to marry me two nights ago after a few hours of making the beast of two backs. He told me that it was too soon.” 
Soap shuddered at the use of that metaphor. “You two have known each other like two days.”
“Exactly! Plenty of time to fall in love.” Price grinned. 
Soap sighed. “No. Humans take time. Months. Years even. It’s not something you really do in a day.” 
Price frowned. “Why?”
“We don’t have an infinite amount of time like you guys. If we end up with the wrong person, we could waste out lives. So we have to make sure it’s the right person.” 
Neither Price or Ghost seemed to get that. Both stared blankly at him as if he was talking a different language. 
“Nevermind.” Soap sighed. They didn’t get it. Neither of them were human anyway. Also, if Ghost asked him to marry him, he’d say yes with absolutely no hesitation. Didn’t want to dissuade him in case he wanted to ask. “Is your fiance also a vampire?”
“No! She’s a witch I believe.”
Ghost gasped. “What if she’s just trying to steal your semen? Witches do that quite often.”
“You’d know from personal experience, wouldn’t you Simon?” Price laughed. “That lady had you tied up for…”
“Three days. She sucked. Literally.” Ghost moved away and looked around. “Have you guys considered that we need a cat?”
Soap was trying to come to terms with what he just heard. 
Interviewer: Sorry for not being here yesterday. I was super sick. Everything alright
Soap: Let me catch you up. So…
Interviewer: Oh my god. 
Alejandro: WATCH THE G-WORD
Interviewer: That’s great! I’m so glad you finally got bitten. Will you turn now?
Soap: Unfortunately not.
Interviewer: Uh huh. And what’s with the witches?
Soap: No clue. Let me ask Rodolfo. 
Rodolfo: Witches steal vampire semen. Everyone knows this.
Interviewer: Why?
Rodolfo: For their evil spells!!
Interviewer: What spells require vampire semen?
Rodolfo: Fucking idiots. 
Interviewer notates that he rolled his eyes and left him to continue his interview with Soap. 
Soap heard knocking and excused himself to go handle it. He opened the door to see… a man. A rather tall man with dark features. Tan skin, black hair, dark eyes. He wore a trenchcoat and had a crossbow with silver tipped arrowheads. 
Please do not be anyone’s sires or anyone’s spawn. 
“Hello. My name is Reyes. Religious?”
Soap stared blankly before realizing his cross necklace was out. He hadn’t even realized he had moved it to be visible while interviewing. He must’ve been fidgeting with it. “Ah. Non practicing catholic. Why?”
“You should keep that close. Are you aware that there are monsters in this neighborhood?”
Oh fuck. Oh no. Did he know? “Huh?”
“There is a monster wandering around back yards and down alleys. Harassing people. Stealing from people’s trash.”
Which of his vampires did this dumb shit?? Which one?? They were all so stupid. Rudy would never go through trashcans so it wasn’t him. Alejandro would get chewed out by Rudy. But Ghost didn’t let people observe him and live. Gaz wasn’t monstrous enough. Price had been busy the past few nights with this mysterious fiance. 
“I am of course talking about bigfoot.” Reyes continued.
Soap sighed in relief. “Oh that’s it?” He was all dressed up and had a crossbow for fucking bigfoot?
Reyes frowned. “This is very serious. A monster is loose. There have been multiple sightings. It’s a public safety concern.”
This dude is insane. Certified. Soap knew for a fact that bigfoot isn’t real. “Right. Well, it’s 10 pm and you’ve just given me a lot of information. What do you plan on doing about this?”
“I’m spreading the word in case they’re spotted.” He handed Soap a business card. “If you see anything wrong, just give me a call and I’ll be there. I want to nip this monster in the bud before it can get away again.”
“Again?”
“I’ve been tracking them for months. Following them across the country to try to trap them and I believe in this town, I can finally get them.” 
Soap didn’t know that Bigfoot used they/them pronouns. He was proud of them for coming out. 
“Right. Well, if I see anything, I promise to give you a call, Reyes.”
Unknown to Soap, Alejandro heard the name and felt a summon in his soul. He fled down the stairs and stayed at the edge of the door so he couldn’t be seen by the hunter in the door. 
Reyes nodded. “Thank you. Stay safe. Save your eggshells and crush them up. If you put them in your windows, it’ll keep werewolves out.” 
Alejandro immediately grabbed some eggshells and started to crush them as he waited for him to leave.
Soap noticed and rolled his eyes. “Uh, yeah. Thanks. I’m sure my roommates will be doing that. See you later.”
“Roommates?”
Soap closed the door in his face. “Alejandro.” 
Alejandro was hurried putting the crushed (not to powder, just vaguely crushed) eggshells in the windows. “I’m going to be rid of that dog.” 
Soap found how easily Alejandro could change from intelligent, almost manipulative suave person to a superstitious and… almost goofy guy was interesting. “Why did you come down?”
“Heard his name. My friend Chuy warned me that a hunter was nearby.”
“Chuy? Haven’t heard about him.”
“Yeah, he’s this vampire that dresses up in weird suits and then hangs out in the woods.” 
Soap paused. “Wait, what?” 
“Yeah. Like… the grassy ones. Ghillie suits.”
“Huh. So bigfoot is real. Just… a vampire in a costume.”
“Yeah, exactly. He’s great. Really funny.” Alejandro got out his phone and used siri to call Chuy. He put it on speakerphone but they both heard the ringing coming from upstairs. 
Soap jumped into Alejandro’s arms. “Why is in the house?? With no warning?”
“Look, I didn’t even know he was in town! You’re being really rude right now. Go welcome our guest.”
It occurred to neither of them that someone had to have invited him in if he was a vampire. 
Interviewer: Hi.
Chuy: Hi. 
Interviewer: I love the… antlers on your suit. 
Chuy: Thank you. I fled here to escape a cartel located in Mexico. I was betrayed.
Interviewer: Oh, wow. You’re an open book, I love that. Why were they chasing you?
Chuy: I stole all of their money.
Interviewer: Ah. 
Alejandro slowly crept up the stairs, still carrying Soap.  He planned to use him as a shield if Chuy attacked them. 
“Oh. You’re doing an interview?”
Chuy looked up, wearing a cowboy hat and sunglasses. “Oh, yeah. Just… chilling. Why are you toying with your food?”
Alejandro dropped Soap on the ground. “He’s Ghost’s familiar. How are you man?” He pulled up a chair, distracting from the interviewer who just shrugged it off and got up to get himself a coffee. Soap continued to lay on the ground, thinking about something else. 
“Ah, Ghost. Hope he’s doing well.” Chuy stretched, bones popping unnaturally. “I heard Koenig is planning on traveling through this area soon as well. Wonder if we’ll all bump into each other.”
Alejandro frowned. “Lot of vampires have been coming through lately. Price is actually staying right now. There a reason for that?”
Chuy hummed. “Hunters for me and Koenig. Apparently they’ve been trying to crack down on us. Won’t work well for them though… Don’t kill Reyes by the way. He’s not dangerous to anyone but me. He’s a dog with a bone I’ve realized and I want to see how long until he gives up.”
Alejandro nodded slowly, though he looked suspicious. 
Soap dusted himself off and properly introduced himself. “Chuy is it?”
“Well, my actual name is Jesus.” Alejandro flinched when Chuy said that. “But as you can see, it’s a bit of a sensitive name around here so I stick with Chuy.” 
Soap nodded. “They call me Soap.”
“Considering how clean the house is, it’s a fitting nickname.” Chuy smiled kindly at him. 
Soap beamed at the praise but Alejandro quickly took Chuy’s attention to found out more about why he was there. 
Soap went outside for a smoke. The night was young and he was already stressed. Before he could even light it, he heard a whistle and looked over at Graves who was waving him over. He took the invitation, clearing the small space between his front door and Graves’s fence. 
Graves had almost healed bruises on his neck, so it looked like Price had gotten lucky. 
Soap wanted to get this out of the way. “If you’re going to ask me about Price, I’m sorry but he’s got a fiance. I’m really really sorry.” He prepared for high emotions. Sadness. Anger.
Graves just sipped his coffee and nodded. “I didn’t… He didn’t use me to cheat did he?”
“No. They uh… moved fast.”
“Yeah. I’m glad he found someone who’d accept his proposal five minutes into meeting. He kept calling me nicknames and just moving really fast. It was strange. You want a cup?”
Soap could’ve kissed Graves on the fucking mouth. He had money to spare so he always got really nice coffee. The expensive kinds that came in little packs or had to be brewed certain ways. “I’d love to, man.”
Graves smiled and let him inside. “Did the weird religious conspiracy theory guy talk to you?”
It took Soap just a moment to realize he meant Reyes. “Yeah. Dude was definitely out there. Did he give you his card?”
Graves laughed. “Oh, yeah. Monster hunter huh? What’s he going to do? Kill all the vampires in your house?”
Soap froze, staring. Graves didn’t seem to notice, just quietly fixing the cup before sliding it over. 
“Oh, come on Soap. They all have fangs, never come outside during the day and, oh yeah, Price told me. Like immediately. Said I looked like his dead wife.”
“That why you invited me in?” Soap was afraid. He didn’t know why. This was new territory. His neighbor, which was one of the few people he had to hide this from, suddenly knew. 
“No. I invited you in because you looked dead on your feet and I thought you might want to talk.”
Soap took a deep breath. 
Yeah. He did want to talk.
“Monster hunters are so dumb.”
Graves laughed. “Not where I was expecting this to go. But okay.” 
Soap nodded. “They’re so stupid! They just bumble around and sometimes kill someone! I killed a vampire easier than them!”
“You killed a vampire?”
“Don’t tell anyone.” Soap sighed and started to drink the coffee. “I know you won’t which is why I am telling you because I really need to talk to someone about this. And the vampires are so dumb sometimes too! Like certified idiots. The only reason they haven’t walked into the sun is they’re old enough to know better and honestly?? I think they’d forget if not for everyone else.”
Graves sat down to continue listening.
“And now I have to deal with these werewolves, those are real by the way, and they’re great but they just barge in at all times without caring about the fact that I have to clean up after them and try to get the smell out of the carpet.”
“They smell?”
“The vampires think so!” Soap exclaimed, feeling so tired. “I don’t know why they’re like that. All of them are so particular and want everything to be just right and….” He sighed and put his head on the table.
“And you put up with this, why?” 
“I’m their familiar. Ghost is going to make me a vampire.”
“That’s it? I mean… You could probably just find a vampire elsewhere right?”
Soap hesitated. “I mean. Yeah, I could. But they couldn’t know I’m a familiar. It’s improper to turn someone else’s. And Ghost would be upset.”
Graves tilted his head. “Ghost is the masked one, right?”
“Yes.”
“What’s he like?”
“Tall. Hot. Amazing. Dramatic, but I love it about him.”
Graves smiled at him and got up again. He went into his cabinet and Soap noticed some weird bottles of powder. Not quite salt. Just white powder. He really hoped Graves wasn’t an addict. Graves grabbed whatever he was looking for and shrugged. “I hope you get turned soon, friend. See you around.” 
Soap was up and out of there before he really put together how weird of a dismissal that was. It worked well though. 
Graves quietly sharpened a couple of bolts he had for his crossbow. 
What a shame. He’d hate to have to take a different hunter’s kill.
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fotibrit · 5 months
Note
In the ask you answered about songs that remind you of Tony you included Rooftop from The Beginner's Guide, I'm curious about your reasoning for that! (Now in an ask so you are free to wax poetic about it hehe)
I did include Rooftop! I also included Va, Machine, and D.S Al Coda. Each of these are from a video game called The Beginners Guide (as you, dear asker, know lol). I am absolutely obsessed with the game and its implications, so of course I had to connect it to Tony Stark (very easy to do actually, given what the game is about).
If you have not ever played The Beginners Guide or if you haven't seen a play through, please do watch a play through before reading the rest of my response. The songs and my explication are entirely tied to the plot surrounding them. I recommend Jacksepticeyes playthrough, linked below.
(I'm generally pro-spoilers, I dont tend to care about things being spoiled and such. But this is the game which is the exception. Don't spoil the game for yourself and read ahead, truly, the game dosnt have the same impact if you already know what happens. I would give so much to play this game for the first time again.)
youtube
Now for all of y'all that know about the game. I'll give a quick refresher on the level in which the song takes place for each explanation.
Rooftop - This is the song that plays at the end of the staircase level. Within that level, the player has to climb the stairs in an attempt to reach the room at the top. The player slows involuntarily while they climb, until they're barely moving at all. The player has the option to take Daveys shortcut and speed up the process to the top, or they can just keep inching forward. But either way, a player gets to the top eventually, and they see "A room that's warm, and nice, and filled with little ideas for games." As you know, Coda's a game developer. So a room full of ideas for games, a room thats welcoming and inspiring, would be worth the slow climb to the top. Once you're in the room of ideas, "Rooftop" starts playing.
Rooftop - What makes this level so Tony Stark is what Davey says: "Coda would often tell me that he didn't mind if people thought of him as cold or distant, he said that he knew he was actually a vibrant and compassionate person, but that it takes time to really see that. It can be a very slow climb to get there." Tell me thats not SO Tony. People see him as cold, and he dosnt care to dissuade someone of this unless they make the climb to see it. And... the room. The room of ideas. Thats Tonys workshop. Its somewhere you have to work to get allowed in, its filled with things that [Tony/Coda] is passionate about, it reveals that the owner isnt entirely cold and distant. You've got to work to get there.
Va - This is the song that plays during the housekeeping level. Complete transparency: this one is my favorite. Up to this point, Davey has observed that Coda seems to be talking to himself continuously. This level comes right after the prison games, when Coda spoke to his past self on the phone. The level opens with Davey pondering aloud: "So what would it look like if Coda wanted to make a game about talking to someone other than himself?" The game that follows includes the player repetitively cleaning a house, chatting with a profesional housekeeper who gives the player instructions. Its later revealed that the housekeeping game was intended to loop forever. with the player continuously cleaning the same things over and over, chatting with a friend who is equally passionate. Davey claims that "This [game was developed] during a period of a few months where he was grossly happy, all the time, just walked around with a constant smile on his face." "Va" plays throughout the level.
Va - This song is SO pre-endgame Tony. What would Tony like more than to engage in repetitive tasks with someone who cares equally about the task? If you dont think Tony would enjoy that repetitive passion, ask Pepper during IM3 how many Iron Man suits Tony made. If you dont think Tony would enjoy having someone equally passionate to chat with throughout, tell me why Tony coded Jarvis to respond to sarcasm with sarcasm. Tony describes himself as a mechanic, and i truly believe that he conciders his "mechanic" self to be the best version of him. So I think he would be his happiest as a mechanic, or as a "housecleaner", simply creating over and over with an audience to discuss WHY he loves it. Someone who believes him about how calming the process it.
Machine - This is from the Machine level. (Side note, but I find it interesting that this is one of the only songs that has the same title as the level its in. To me, thats a testimony to this level being about the destruction of creativity for the sake of creativity itself. but thats a side note). The machine level is the one in which the player observes Coda, the machine, fail to create, and so the player destroys everything the machine has ever created.
Machine - This song is in the playlist because of one of my WIPs. In the story, Tony never finds the cure to his blood poisoning in IM2, and he slowly convinces the people around him to stop associating him him. He destroys almost everything he's ever made in an attempt to avoid it being used for harm after his death. In the end, he dosn't die. someone else comes up with the cure, and Tony is left with nothing he once had, knowing he wasnt good enough to save himself.
D.S Al Coda - This is the song that plays after Coda is revealed to have stopped because of Davey. This song, to me, just summarizes the whole concept of declaring someone elses identity through supervising their creation.
D.S Al Coda - This is a Tony song simply because I believe he would find the game interesting lol. The song just represents the game to me, and I would liek Tonys throughts on the game.
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resha04 · 11 months
Text
Drabble: Jigsaw puzzle (holding hands)
Set in the universe of I am learning again to live with scars; between chapter 1 & 2
The  meeting  was  so  long.
Gentle-heart  wasn’t  an  impatient  child  by  any  means—in  fact, they  could  confidently  enough  say  that  they  were  the  only  one  who  could  wait  for  a  long  time  without  fidgeting  or  getting  restless. They  could  sit  watching  the  garden  sway  or  their  siblings  play  for  more  than  half  an  hour, scarcely  moving, finding  contentment  in  observing. Watchful  could  do  it  too, but  only  with  people; they  lost  interest  quickly  when  it  came  to  scenery, no  matter  how  lovely. So  there, Gentle-heart  was  good  at  waiting  and  staying  still.
But  right  now  they  were  vibrating  with  excitement (nervousness  too, but  also  excitement), and  the  meeting  was  so  long.
They’d  lost  track  how  long  they’d  stood  there. Servants  and  retainers  who  passed  by  had  been  giving  them  curious – some  concerned – looks. A  few  retainers  had  walked  up  to  them  and  asked  if  they  needed  help  with  anything, if  the  retainers  should  notify  Father, but  Gentle-heart  only  shook  their  head. They  weren’t  waiting  here  because  there  was  an  emergency.
The  exact  opposite, actually.
The  meeting  was  so  long.
When  the  door  of  the  meeting  room  finally  swung  open, it  took  all  of  Gentle-heart’s  efforts  to  not  run  to  Father. He  was  speaking  to  a  retainer, but  he  happened  to  glance  on  their  direction  and  saw  them. He  gave  the  retainer  a  few  more  instructions  before  dismissing  him, and  then  he  was  before  them.
“What’s  the  matter, child?” he  said.
“Are  you  busy, Father?” Gentle-heart  signed. “Do  you  have  work  after  this?” Of  course  he  did, that  was  what  they  thought  and  told  their  siblings, hoping  to  dissuade  them  from  bothering  him  with  something  so  trivial, but  their  siblings  had  insisted.
Father  hummed. “Do  you  have  something  to  ask  me?”
His  expression  was  knowing. If  Father  was  like  Mother, repeating  the  question  wouldn’t  get  him  to  answer.
“We’re  doing  the  jigsaw  puzzle,” Gentle-heart  signed. They’d  rehearsed  the  words  in  their  head, to  make  sure  they  didn’t  stutter  when  signing  it. “If  you’re  not  busy, would  you  come  and  do  it  with  us, Father?”
Father’s  eyes  crinkled  in  a  smile. “Of  course.” He  cocked  his  head  slightly, to  the  direction  of  the  playroom. “Shall  we  go  now?”
If  they  had  been  capable  of  facial  expression, Gentle-heart  would’ve  been  beaming. Nodding  eagerly, they  pattered  to  Father’s  side, and  down  the  hallway  the  two  of  them  walked.
“Is  it  the  large  one  that  arrived  yesterday?” Father  said. “The  one  with  1000  pieces?”
Gentle-heart  nodded.
“Well, it  would  prove  a  refreshing  challenge, after  this  meeting.”
“Mother  is  doing  it  with  us  too.”
Father  chuckled. “I  see. I  hope  she  and  your  siblings  haven’t  finished  it  by  the  time  we  arrive.”
Despite  his  words, he  didn’t  quicken  his  pace. Instead, he  slowed  down  and  took  their  hand.
The  first  time  he  did  it, he’d  been  stiff  and  hesitant, as  if  he  had  no  idea  how  to  do  it, this  simple  gesture  of  holding  their  hand. Gentle-heart  had  been  equally  tentative, but  a  kind  of  hunger  had  spurred  them  forward, a  surge  of  boldness, and  they’d  grasped  back, wrapping  their  small  fingers  around  his  long, thin  ones.
Father’s  hold  had  been  loose, just  firm  enough  to  ensure  their  hand  wouldn’t  accidentally  slip  free, as  if  he  was  afraid. (When  they  were  older, Hallow  would  learn  that  he  was, but  that  wasn’t  all. He  had  kept  his  grip  slack  enough  so  they  would  be  able  to  slip  their  hand  off, to  pull  away, if  they’d  wanted  to.) He’d  grown  into  the  gesture  after  several  times, no  longer  tense  and  as  awkward  when  initiating  it, but  it  had  taken  longer  for  his  grip  to  tighten  around  theirs.
Now, he  clasped  their  hand  with  ease  and  certainty. And  Gentle-heart, too, scooted  closer  to  him  without  needing  to think  and  rethink  it. Neither  of  them  hesitated  anymore.
Hand-in-hand, they  made  their  way  to  the  playroom, where  Mother  and  everyone  and  the  jigsaw  puzzle  were  waiting.
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adleryoung · 5 months
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I chuckled as I watched Zandar mutely hail a young rabbit she found playing at the edge of the woods. The tyke screamed and ran away. Heh heh! Maybe he thought she was a ghost!
Next Zandar found a pair of rabbit femmes gathering acorns in a clearing. They too ran away in a panic. Maybe the rabbits would be so terrified they would abandon their dumb little town! It would serve them right!
But as Zandar approached Bunkirk, a group of mels came out to meet her with guns and pitchforks. They demanded that she explain herself, and of course she could not, so they immediately assumed she was a witch.
Lowfolk! Honestly, what is wrong with them that makes them act this way?
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They coiled a length of rope around Zandar, tied it tight, and marched her into town.
I didn't care HOW Unseelie she was, I couldn't let a bunch of ignorant lowfolk treat my queen this way! Those rabbits had gone too far this time! Now I was free, and I could actually do something about them!
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There wasn't much time, so I quickly threw together a simple disguise and covered it with a glamer so the rabbits would think I was one of them. I also needed to bring a swarm of Ixies for backup in case things went sour … but a cloud of large insectoids buzzing around would surely draw attention. I had to think fast, so I conjured up a baby carriage and had the Ixies hide inside, under the blanket.
Thus prepared, I pooked into the outskirts of Bunkirk and hurried toward the town square where everyone was gathered.
"What's all this?" I demanded.
"We've caught a witch, Squire," one of the rabbits replied, as if he had known me all his life. My disguise was working perfectly so far!
"Really?" I replied. "What makes you think she's a witch?" I would have to be subtle and get these bumpkins to examine their assumptions without directly challenging them. If they began to suspect I wasn't a real member of their community, then the game was up!
"She came out o' the haunted wood!" the same rabbit answered, after respectfully removing his cap. "Everybody knows that place is full o' goblins an' skunk elves!"
"Sure an' she looks might skunky to me," a femme added.
"She certainly does look like a skunk," I observed cautiously as I stepped through the crowd to get closer to Zandar.
"You chose this," I whispered, to remind her that it had been her own decision to leave the safety of Albric Tor.
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Instead of apologizing or asking for help, she HISSED at me angrily and insolently!
"Hey!" one of the rabbits yelled as he prodded Zandar with a pitchfork. "Show respect to Squire Young!"
SQUIRE YOUNG?? Did they somehow know my name, or was that a lucky guess?
"He's a good man!" declared another.
"Him a widower an' raisin' that baby all by himself," a femme added, using her own imagination to fill in the blanks in my disguise. Lowfolk sure are suckers for a basic glamer!
"Good people, please," I insisted, still determined to try and save the situation. "The fact that she is a skunk does not prove she is a witch."
"She's either one of 'em, or she's been with 'em," various members of the crowd called out. "She came out o' the woods! An' look at what she's wearin! She won't talk! I ordered her in the name o' the Deity ta speak, an' she just stood there starin' at me!"
"Well now, that is suggestive," I admitted in a conciliatory tone. Turning to Zandar, I asked her, "Have you nothing to say in your own defense?"
The spell on her collar would have allowed her to speak to me, but instead of trying, she simply glared at me with an expression full of malice.
"How peculiar," I sighed after what felt like a long pause. If Zandar didn't want my help, that was her choice to make. They wouldn't be able to kill her at any rate, because of her strange geas … but at least I could try to dissuade them from burning her at the stake. "I believe hanging at the crossroads is the usual procedure, but you might want to consult a priest first."
"Thankee Squire," said the first rabbit who had spoken to me. "That's just what we'll do."
I turned and walked away as quickly as I could without raising suspicion, as I heard the rabbit say "What d'ye think, Father?"
I rounded the corner and pooked away just as another voice answered, "I'll go with what Squire Young said."
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You know, I'm still fucking angry with the so-called friends who saw homosexual women and girls being demonized and just pretended not to know. There was this one person who nearly drove me to kermit, it is so absolutely mortifying now in hindsight, but she was someone I knew and cared about in real life - and I didn't want to meet her friend's newly "hatched" friend who she herself reported had said some dumb misogynistic shit. What was important to note was my state of mind at the time - I had spent a few years (about 6 years ago now) watching lesbians (and mainly lesbians) get bullied off their online safe spaces for being specific about their attractions or for making innocuous "no pregnancy" jokes. Obviously their intent was to dissuade the usual "cishet" but we all know which camp decided to hunt these women and girls down and harrass them with anything from "r u a torf" to literal rape and death threats. I watched it happen to some of my younger lesbian ex mutuals who eventually deactivated (I hope they're all safe and happy now). Some of these blogs I'd spoken to only a few times but I know they had a strong following - and noone intervened. Again... These girls had zero intention to hurt other lgbt people. And noone cared.
I've seen, in fact, people pile on - straight people, bisexual people, women even. Just jumping on the bandwagon because "the lesbians are having it too good". Sickening. I wholeheartedly curse these bigots (as well as the main perpetrators) to a life of suffering.
And there was noone to talk to about it. Everyone was pretending it wasn't happening, or too scared to say anything, or straight up telling you that you were making it up. Now I imagine lesbians in "first world countries" still often need some place for connection to what they are - if they were from a small homophobic hometown or even a large city where they lived in as a loner. Girls from religions that demonizes same sex attraction and ones from families that openly tell you being the opposite gender was preferable to being homosexual.
Let alone lesbians from countries like mine.
So when I opened up to someone from my personal life about what I was seeing in what I previously considered a safe space, I expected some balanced neutral stance where they would acknowledge it at the very least. But we all know that's not what anyone wanted to do, let alone 5 years ago when suddenly c1s lesbians were villains of the highest order - never mind that they had homophobia, sexism, AND most of them had racism to contend with. No, my friend quite literally made me feel like I was "focusing on the wrong things" and that I was the bad person for not turning away like everyone else.
Nothing could have worked faster to inform me that my observations didn't matter, that lesbians didn't matter, and that this world wanted us nonexistent.
Hell, nothing could have told me faster that this person wasn't even a fucking lesbian - or that she was, now I suspect after 5 years on, filled with internalized misogyny and homophobia.
It wasn't even mainly her fault, to be honest - it was a collective effort by everyone involved and those who very conspicuously did not get involved. The whole witch-hunt for things that lesbians quickly interpreted as a full-out attack against what they naturally are. "Nobody believed you weren't making those choices, as opposed to being that way. So why don't you just stop? Hey if you decide to off yourself instead, well it's still a choice!"
The flimsiness of it all is so telling. Never mind that women of multi-sex sexual orientations existed, no it was the homosexual women they had to target for their ideal dating pool - the women that CLEARLY would not be able to reciprocate. And everyone else just jumped onboard with "yeah that sounds like a good way to fix homosexual women" "yeah lesbians shouldn't make assumptions about people's genitals"
This alongside the fact that self ID was extremely popular, meaning anyone could identify in and out of anything - while a lot of these peoplr were ALSO saying that sex either didn't exist or wasn't as important as gender. Obviously, the cishet men who had an obsession with raping lesbians saw a chance and the other cishet men AND EVERYONE ELSE decided not to notice that, that wasn't happening actually. Imagine the fucking evil of it all - editing in here that many bystanders, without questioning what was really happening, often took to piling on the lesbian and driving her to ostracization OR breaking down and agreeing to abuse.
The only thing that keeps me from turning against ALL of them are the tr4ns people I've met who wholeheartedly reject this crap. They're depressed by it and understandably so. Tr4nsness used to be a coping mechanism for homosexual and ssa bisexual people in the past for the most part - the culture that has festered around genders today follows the most heterosexual logic anyone's ever seen. Which of course means that everyone is encouraged to be raging sexists, rigid homophobes, and even get in some racism while they're at it. And of course, the lesbophobia is through the fucking depths of space itself.
I've spent years wrangling with the sense of betrayal from people I know and people I don't (the fallout of relying on online spaces) and facing the truth of hatred, bigotry and plain old narrow-minded thinking. I've been on the other side of the tracks but I had my eyes opened real fast, and unfortunately stayed on the other side for a long time, tentatively trying to talk about what had been happening and being ignored. So I took a trip, I crossed the tracks, and honestly now I've boarded the train that doesn't head in either direction.
But I know which side is at least telling the bare-faced truth.
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latinokaeya-moving · 2 years
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i have transcribed all nine (!) of kaeya’s letters to diluc that we can read in the hidden strifes event + the two replies diluc sent back that are hidden in the mysterious box on the favonius hq roof. just. you know. for fun.
A Letter in Beautiful Handwriting I
To D:
A storm is brewing within the Knights of Favonius. Varka’s inner circle is preparing to investigate Eroch and his henchmen, and it’s looking increasingly likely that Eroch is about to get unseated from that high horse of his.
You might not be too pleased to see this letter of mine, but I mean to get this news to you as soon as possible.
You don’t have to reply.
-
A Letter in Beautiful Handwriting II
To D:
Even I was a little surprised to hear that you’d decided to leave on a trip. Jean wanted to write and try to dissuade you, but I advised her against it.
As for Varka, I don’t think he knows that about this. Otherwise, he’d have probably sat you down for a talk.
If you’d like to leave, do it now. The less people know, the less goodbyes you’ll have to say. Leave at night, too, so things won’t be too saddening.
Take care.
-
A Letter in Beautiful Handwriting III
To D:
Some slightly bad news. Eroch won’t be quite so difficult to bring down after all. The Grand Master’s order to investigate has certainly dealt him a major blow, but I wouldn’t call the problem “pulled up by the roots” yet.
The matter’s been handed over to Jean’s jurisdiction. She’ll take care of this, I believe. Eroch is an obstacle in her path, in any case.
Just sit tight and wait for the good news.
-
A Letter in Beautiful Handwriting IV
To D:
Recently, a group of businessmen returned to Mondstadt. Word is that the reason for their return is a downturn in business.
According to my observations, their employees are regulars at Angel’s Share. These people can also be found in the more dangerous parts of the wilds around the city.
Now, a few of them were a little careless and even dropped some of the pages of their notes on the ground. I took the liberty of returning these sheets to the Angel’s Share. You know, out of the goodness of my heart.
I think they might have something to do with you, seeing as how they were there. I also noticed that their notes were written in code. Information brokers, perhaps? Or some kind of secret organization?
Whatever the case, it took quite a lot of effort to see those blurred words with only one eye, you know? Don’t worry, I’ll keep this a secret.
-
Letter Addressed to “K” I
To K:
Message received. Thank you.
Also, I suggest that you stop mentioning eyes in your letters. Don’t think that I don’t know that your right eye wasn’t blinded.
-
A Letter in Beautiful Handwriting V
To D:
I didn’t try to hide it from you on purpose, you know. But I suppose you found out all the same, huh?
I mean, not everyone who wears an eyepatch must be blind, right? Don’t people also wear an eyepatch if they have a scar over their right eye?
The long-awaited good news is finally here.
Now, I’m going to bring a glass of wine when I go to watch Eroch pack his things and leave on his last day (good riddance, by the way). That should be fun, eh?
I know you’re not the type to do that sort of thing, but I am, so allow me.
-
A Letter in Beautiful Handwriting VI
To D:
Oh, my! No sooner did you get back than a mysterious character started popping up.
I hear he’s called the Darknight Hero. He has repeatedly fought off Treasure Hoarders and monsters in the Mondstadt area - and he’s even attacked Abyss Order strongholds.
So far, it seems like he is on Mondstadt’s side, but the Knights of Favonius could never permit the existence of a vigilante.
I get the feeling that the two of you would get along nicely. Why don’t you find an opportunity to get to know him and give him some safe advice? You know, just so he doesn’t get caught by the Knights?
-
A Letter in Beautiful Handwriting VII
To D:
Per standard procedure, the Knights of Favonius needs to take a statement from all relevant parties.
Recently, the Knights of Favonius have received reports from a number of eye-witnesses claiming to have seen the Darknight Hero in the vicinity of the Dawn Winery. The Grand Master has assigned the Cavalry Company to this mission. As such, I will be paying you a visit in three days.
He seems to think that our relationship can be improved if we are forced to talk in person.
Don’t worry, though. My lips are sealed. This will be nothing more than a formality. Anyway, three days’ notice should be enough for you, I presume?
-
A Letter in Beautiful Handwriting VIII
To D:
The appearance of the Darknight Hero has indeed bought the Knights of Favonius some valuable time during the Abyss Order’s last attack.
This helped Jean convince the Knights of Favonius to stop focusing on trying to stop him. This will decrease the limits on the Darknight Hero’s actions, but this doesn’t mean that his situation will necessarily improve.
Objects with too honed an edge tend to be damaged more easily. You, I’m sure, are aware of the great dangers that come with acting alone.
That said, I would advise against such a course of action.
-
A Letter in Beautiful Handwriting IX
To D:
I heard that Dawn Winery did not suffer any damage. Likewise, the Knights of Favonius only sustained minor injuries, and will recover quickly.
However, an employee of a local merchant has gone missing, and their last known location just so happens to align with the Abyss Order’s area of activity.
The Knights have dispatched people to go to the rescue.
Do be aware that the Abyss Order has become more dangerous as of late, even going so far as to organize multi-pronged offensives.
Perhaps the Darknight Hero and the Knights of Favonius should team up. That might guarantee that things will go off without a hitch, hmm?
-
Letter Addressed to “K” II
To K:
Thanks for the letter.
Cooperating with the Knights has objective pros and cons, like two sides of a coin. I’m sure you understand that better than I do.
No need to worry about my safety. Self-preservation is easy. Striving towards my goal is hard. Take better care of yourself instead.
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yymiya · 2 years
Text
the more that you say, the less i know (excerpt)
Scattered across the desk is an assortment of written documents that accumulated during Ayato’s forced period of absence. Ayato has never been one for keeping his workspace tidy, much to the exasperation of his attendants, so you doubt he will reprimand you for haphazardly casting down yet another stack of paperwork without care for where they land.
Moments before you had planned to prematurely turn in for the night, Ayato had sent for you, citing a matter of dire, grave importance as an excuse.
What is so important about heaps of menial documents concerning the estate’s upkeep is beyond your comprehension, yet Ayato has wrangled you into completing them on his behalf with the artful charm of a Commissioner, doing away with the mercy he showed while sick.
Maybe you should have expected this. A single moment of vulnerability couldn’t possibly be enough to dissuade Ayato from cursing you with inconvenient tasks, however it’s had some effect because he decides to accompany you in his study.
Pleasant, if not for his inquisitive expression and the even click click click of his shoes as he paces.
“I can practically hear the wheels turning in your head, my lord,” you observe, not glancing up from the desk. “You’ve been at it for a half-hour. What is it?”
Ayato halts in the centre of the room, his soles scuffing against the floor. His hands are folded behind his back. “Kujou Kamaji has been oddly quiet since being appointed as clan head, don’t you agree?”
“I wouldn’t know, my lord. I have no involvement in that half of things.”
“No, I suppose not,” he mutters, and then resumes his mindless amble around the room, dizzying you once more. “Then again, I heard through the grapevine that he fought in a duel against the Almighty Shogun to atone for his father’s transgressions… Perhaps he is not as deplorable as old man Kujou was.”
You blow out a puff of air. “Well, won’t sticking your nose in other people's business ruffle a few feathers?”
Ayato gives a smile. That mischievous, conniving grin that squints his eyes and dimples his cheeks, making him look disgustingly cute like a cat.
“Correct, it's not yet my business… but it serves as my entertainment,” he answers. Your writing pauses and you stare, unimpressed. “Goodness. What is that look for?”
“You’re nothing but trouble.”
Curious, Ayato stalks closer to the desk. “Ah, but this is purely hypothetical. Who is to know?”
“Do as you please,” you laugh. “Pay no mind to my opinion. I couldn’t even begin to understand the political situation.”
“I’m now rather interested in what you have to say.”
You hum, disinterestedly thumbing through a pile of purposely disorganised invoices. “Allow me to be crass for a moment, my lord, but if I were you, I’d stop behaving like a spoiled brat and sit this one out. I don’t believe anyone would take kindly to discovering that you’ve meddled with their affairs for your own entertainment.”
Ayato silently watches the scrawl of your pen across a document, then his head tilts and he regards you with a faux steely look, still donning that smile. “That tongue of yours is sharp, you ought to be careful. Some are less lenient than I.”
There’s a soft clink as Ayato fusses with the set of small glasses and removes the stopper from a decanter he keeps by his desk. You scowl—a drunk Commissioner is the last thing you need. Regardless, Ayato raises an empty glass as an offer, to which you shake your head. Worse than a drunk Commissioner is the prospect of attempting to finalise his paperwork yourself while tipsy.
“You grow bolder by the day,” he states, pouring himself an amount of liquor. He swallows it in the next second, the residue coating the pink of his lips with a sheen. You avert your eyes. “Aren’t I tolerant for allowing such a thing? What a pity it is that I’m yet to be shown earnest gratitude.”
A dossier is knocked across the desk in your irritation. A place in Ayato’s good books is nice, but you crave those few seconds of satisfaction that follow telling the bleak truth more than you crave his favour.
“Is my obedience not enough? My loyalty? I thank you plenty, but if that’s insufficient, then tell me what would please you.”
Ayato’s voice lilts in amusement. “That isn't something to be told.”
“No, of course not,” you mutter. “You haven’t thanked me once, my lord. Not once in the several months I’ve worked myself to the bone on your behalf.”
That sickly feeling trickles into your blood again, tainting it with blistering anger that almost takes you whole. Your fingers tighten so tightly around the pen that it almost snaps, your knuckles aching with the force.
You take care to be polite. You say no more than what is required. You complete all work despite its absurdity. Yet—
Yet nothing is enough.
Ayato draws closer and stoops down until he’s at eye level. This close, you could count each eyelash and mole if time would allow for it, map out in your mind the different shades of blue threading through his hair. It calms you enough to listen.
“Allow me to thank you, then,” he says, and you feel him speak. “Your work is not unappreciated, nor is it discredited; that would be a gross disregard of your effort. Furthermore, not many would dare to fault me, but—”
What?
“—your tenacity in the name of honesty is respectable. Believe me when I say I much prefer you to some docile, frightened thing afraid of stepping on toes.”
Ayato is a man of trickery and careful manipulation, born of the unforgiving lesson to deceive others in the name of protecting all he has left. You’ve heard whisperings of Ayato's youth—how he had been thrust into a position unbefitting a young boy and scrambled to salvage the Kamisato Clan before it fell to ruins—so perhaps that is why you have confidence in him, still.
In spite of this, you refuse to yield to him. 
“I’ll take that drink, my lord.”
A smile. “Wonderful choice.”
While Ayato turns away, you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes in a feeble attempt to stave off the oncoming headache. What a handful he is. It’s a small mercy that you put up with him at all.
You startle as long fingers slide around your throat. Your head is wrenched back and Ayato’s roguish expression flickers above you.
“What are y— mmh—”
The cold press of glass against your lips—the decanter, you realise—muffles your words. Bittersweet liquor floods your mouth and you splutter, surprised. It forces alcohol to spill down your chin, dripping down your neck and soaking Ayato’s glove and the collar of your shirt.
“Stupid thing,” he chides. His eyes are narrowed and cruel, but a small part of you delights in seeing Ayato be so overtly mean. “This liquor was a generous appeasement gift delivered by the Kanjou Commission, but you’re wasting almost every drop.”
It seems patience has worn thin on both sides.
You choke on another mouthful, lungs and throat seared raw with pain and agitated by the alcohol you have little choice but to swallow.
Ayato sighs. “Nothing? Not a word? My, you truly do have an attitude problem, not to mention a loose tongue. Yet you insist I’m the spoiled brat between us.”
He’s only satisfied once tears burn your eyes.
The warmth of his palm withdraws from your throat and you slump forward, breaking into a coughing fit. Your rasping breaths crack into laughter. So this is an attempt at humiliating you for calling him a brat? He has a sense of humour, after all.
“The Kanjou Commission has no taste then,” you croak as Ayato places away the decanter and shucks off his soaked glove. “The flavour is awful.”
He hums in agreement. “Yes, I’m not overly fond of it myself.”
Ayato casts a sidelong glance and observes your dishevelled appearance with thinly-veiled gratification—mussed clothes, alcohol streaking your chin, and that wild and spiteful glint in your eyes that provokes a carnal urge.
Your throat aches terribly. Damn sadist.
“What a mess.” Ayato clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Put it right. Thoma will be fraught with disappointment that you fail to arrive at hotpot on time… I’ll be sure to make an excuse for your tardiness.”
You nod politely, tongue pushing against your cheek. “Yes, my lord.”
“Thank you,” he says, mocking. 
You glower as he leaves, wiping your chin on the back of your hand. The documents laid across the desk have been skewed and splattered with alcohol and will have to be rewritten. Wonderful.
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halcyon-writings · 2 years
Text
you know how people are writing the reader/yuu/mc being inspired around different characters, this is my take (but idk if can you guess who the inspo is)
maybe the tiniest of spoilers from books 1-3
gn!reader (i call you and grim material gworls but no it's not meant to be gendered it is the Vibe).
nav.
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night raven college’s newest prefect was probably the topic of most conversation ever since their arrival.
from how well they composed themselves to the pleasantries they would give if approached occasionally. however short they may have been anyway.
at least, that was how they were outwardly.
the prefect’s smile could easily hide jabs and barbs that made anyone who bothered them or the little monster accompanying them flinch or want to run away. but of course, no one would believe it easily.
ace of course, watching how sweet you were to grim, certainly didn’t at first.
it had occurred when you had first enrolled at nrc, you and your little companion curiously gazing upon on the statues of the seven figures the students and faculty oh so revered.
of course, ace attempted to trick you both as he laughed in your faces loudly.
instantly, you make your displeasure to ace’s words known. your head tilts to the side as you glare. whatever laughter he had let out stopped. the little bit of information he had heard about you from trey and riddle didn’t even hint to anything like this.
you had been polite enough anyway, hence why the headmage had seemingly allowed you to attend with the cat, right? so why did he feel so shaken as your graze burned into his? as though you were looking down at him, before the expression is gone at the sounds of approaching footsteps. your charming smile returned, and grim settles into your arms.
he could’ve sworn he saw an eye on the cat’s bow staring at him.
and thus began a beautiful friendship. well, if slow tolerance led to actual friendship.
there were some mishaps here and there, grim running off, often to prove his greatness to the school, but you always seeming to know where he was. and the cat scurrying to you whenever he felt his bow was “loose” and your voice gently scolding him or letting himself get so disheveled. (riddle would say you reminded him of pomefiore’s house warden for that).
your observation skills were quite frightening too. somehow you knew just where everything was, and you had just started as a freshman! from knowing where he and deuce would be if you had needed them for something, to wherever grim would run off when he was bored with class work.
(although sometimes grim could have sworn that your long sleeves that he liked to train with [read: play] would move on their own).
you weren’t a fighter, you had said, standing back on the occasion that you, grim and the adeuce duo found yourselves in some scuffle of trouble. (it was a total lie, when one student had gotten too mouthy towards you and your infamous glare did nothing to dissuade them from continuing, they were found in the infirmary with a broken nose from a strong backhand.)
but then the overblots began. from riddle's caused by the amalgamation of the pressure pushed on his shoulders, leona's own frustrations with his position in his family (which you harshly called a bad inferiority complex with a sneer, it only served to only make the beastman angrier, turning your nose up at him even more so).
now more recently, literally recently, you stared down at the octavinelle housewarden as his henchman tried and failed to get through to him with words.
"and now this fabric is going to get all wet or covered with ink," you huff, more perturbed by the fact you’d have to clean it rather than, you know, fighting an over blotted azul. your sleeves having receded until it looked sleeveless, the fabric appearing like tendrils similar to azul's tentacles, catching your friends and nudging the tweels away.
(and you’re happy to send azul the bill for cleaning it afterwards, much to his chagrin).
now for general hcs bc i don’t feel like writing out things JDKSJD:
i, for one, think grim is a funny little guy, a little dude if you will. so that means that this mc/reader (idk man refer to them as you wish) also bonds with them. perhaps it's the understanding of struggling to survive, and taking what you can get, but you find yourself caring for the little guy and he does the same (although you are stronger, just let him have this okay).
that also means he gets a special little bow that you incorporate your fabric in with his new one (as the other one was too torn up for your taste, but you knew it's sentimental value so you let him keep it). And you'll tie it for him nice and snug each morning, because you gotta look your best yk. (you and grim are Material Gworls).
i think another person you'd probably get along with or at least begrudgingly respect is ruggie, similar to the reason above. you do what you do to survive. (although you may hold a grudge when he tried to make you lose your balance only to realize one of the fabric tendrils dug into the wall to keep you upright). otherwise, you two are okay and get along well enough afterwards. and jack because who wouldn't get along with jack.
you and ace definitely bicker (playfully, of course). at first you weren't a fan because of that initial meeting, but he grew on you like a fungus (he protests against this but you keep the title for him anyway). and yes you did laugh when the anemone situation happened. with deuce, i think you get along easier because of his earnest and straightforward personality. (although sometimes you consider just keeping a piece of fabric on his wrist to drag him away from fights he sometimes ends up a part of).
and it's not a post of mine until we've incorporated angst in some way, shape, or form. upon learning about trey and the fact that he's a big brother sometimes has you with a nostalgic expression. you don't exactly let your own history be known (except maybe to grim, but it is a very bareboned version), but you can't help but be reminded of your own big sibling. and now you were in a new place, all alone. trey notices, but won't say anything outright (and sometimes slips you another small dessert, his heart clenches, he wouldn't want his own siblings to be alone in some unknown place either). maybe eventually you reveal that part of your past, but for now, it's a closely guarded secret.
when it comes to classes, for sure you get the "a pleasure to have in class" on reports, so you slack off a little if it means you kinda just use the fabrics to write your notes or smth. ace is mad bc somehow you don't get caught napping during crewel's lectures. you just send him a smug look. (he says he's mad like he's not about to go to ramshackle dorm so you two can shit talk ppl bc u both are messy like that)
you do not have the Tea Kettle Moment, yet. (mayhaps a future set of hcs or smth idk i'm running out of steam)
this is lowkey fun and if u got this far ty for reading!!
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pikahlua · 3 years
Text
Still Waters Run Deep: Aoyama observations I have no idea what to do with but I’m scared
Something is very wrong with Yuuga Aoyama and I don’t know what it is. Please help.
I used to be a big proponent of the Traitor Aoyama theory right up until his weird stalker red herring episode. After that, I let it drop. But like many other people, a certain Drawing Smash art exhibit piece got me thinking again. So I did some more digging.
I’m not necessarily convinced there is an active traitor/mole at UA. (I found the Traitor Hagakure theory compelling as well, but recently I was starting to think maybe AFO bugged Izuku via an OFA connection or something.) But I just went through the entire MHA manga for every piece of Aoyama I could find, and I found so much unexplained weirdness...I just don’t know what to think anymore. I know one thing though:
I am absolutely terrified.
Let me take you on a journey through my last 24 hours.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Aoyama sus... I. A brief summary of the Traitor Aoyama theory II. The tentacle monster that made everyone do a double-take Huh, well that’s odd III. Weird AF Aoyama things IV. The anime added a ton of extra Aoyama scenes for some reason?? V. Aoyama has 0 problems after being brainwashed, I GUESS VI. “I mostly just need bug spray” for Aoyama Inception UM WHAT VII. Summer Training Camp: WHAT. THE. FUCK. VIII. USJ: He’s not...THERE...is he? Protect him IX. “I can’t help but stand out,” says the background character X. Theorizing my ass off
I am warning you right now: This is 80% stream of consciousness sleep-deprived screaming, not solid meta crafting. I found two (or more) dots, and I have no idea how to connect them.
I. A brief summary of the Traitor Aoyama theory
I am not the first person to posit that Aoyama could be the traitor. It is a suspicion I came to myself while watching the show, but others came to the same conclusions themselves. I don’t know what all everyone has said about it, but here are the points I’ve had on my mind for a long time, so I assume everyone else is kind of aware of them:
Aoyama’s introduction and Horikoshi’s character notes imply Aoyama’s role was determined early in the story. He features quite prominently in the UA entrance exam and quirk assessment test arcs, noted by others for his ability to keep cool under pressure, but then suddenly fades to the background.
Aoyama’s location during the USJ arc is conspicuously identified to us as “a secret.” To this day, we still don’t know where he was. If he is on the LOV’s side, Kurogiri could have warped him to a safe location.
For a student at a top hero training academy, Aoyama has no clear “heroic” aspirations or dreams, and he’s not a particularly motivated student.
Aoyama appears to be keenly observing his fellow students, particularly Izuku, and picked up on how Uraraka has a crush on Izuku before even she realized she did.
For some reason, it seems Dabi noticed Aoyama hiding nearby at the summer training camp but didn’t do anything about it. Aoyama also seems afraid/reluctant to engage the villains until the end when he saves Tokoyami, and he votes to dissuade Kirishima from trying to track down the kidnapped Bakugou.
Aoyama’s behavior during the hero provisional licensing exam is notably mysterious. His brief childhood memories imply he feels different from everyone else and distresses over it. He also has some vague “dream” along the lines of “wanting to feel equal to everyone” that still has not been explained.
In the short arc featuring him right before the school cultural festival, the “cheese incident,” if you will, Izuku narrates about Aoyama’s free spirit, and Iida comments on Aoyama’s loner tendencies during lunchtime. His strange behavior in the arc is referred to as “showing his true colors.” This is right before Aoyama delivers the cryptic “still waters run deep” message, which is an idiomatic expression meaning “silent folk are dangerous.”
Included in the cheese incident, Aoyama delivers another cryptic message to Izuku: “I know.” Many have theorized this means he knows Izuku’s secret about One For All. Aoyama explains it away by saying he and Izuku are similar in that their bodies are not built for their quirks, so he felt a sort of kindred spirit in Izuku. Izuku is happy to befriend Aoyama, but Aoyama makes a dark, sad face at the end of their interaction that is either the punchline of a joke or hinting at...something deeper. Many people theorize he likes his classmates and is sad to betray them.
II. The tentacle monster that made everyone do a double-take
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So Twitter user @aitaikimochi gave us a glimpse of some special art Horikoshi made for the Drawing Smash art exhibit along with a general sketch of the setup to give us the full picture, and...just look at it.
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For those asking details of this picture, here's a very crappy drawing of what the art looks like. Basically, the purple monster is coming out of a warehouse door, and Aoyama is sitting on a box right in front of the monster with an empty bottle next to him.
- aitaikimochi
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And now, as you can imagine, the Traitor Aoyama theories have been given second life.
But the thing that set me off was...the empty bottle.
If you go look up the #MHAExhibition tag and check out the setup of the expo, you’ll see how they decided to display the art throughout this warehouse. There’s a sandbag in front of the “effective sandbag that hits back” Noumu from the USJ arc. So that empty bottle is likely very deliberately placed.
And all I could think was...
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And my brain just started firing off absolutely wild observations like:
Did the heroes/police actually manage to collect all the scattered sludge after All Might defeated him?
They do keep referencing the sludge villain incident a bunch over the series don’t they...
Did like a little piece of the sludge villain get away?
Is it hiding inside a “skin suit” like a wire tap, or is it full on controlling someone’s actions?
Is the empty bottle maybe a metaphor for an empty vessel, sludge villain questions notwithstanding?
Still waters run deep
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So, obviously, I went full Shouto Todoroki and had to see how deep the rabbit hole would go.
III. Weird AF Aoyama things
I pulled up all the background info on Aoyama I could and went through his character intro scenes, and, honestly, what am I supposed to think about this stuff????? This is just bizarre.
The kanji in his family name just mean “blue mountain,” but the kanji in his given name Yuuga (優雅) are...INTERESTING.
Yuu = a person with lithe movements, kind, superior, rich/wealthy, gentleness, actor (UMMM?????)
Ga = gracious, elegant, graceful, refined
His hero name “Can’t Stop Twinkling” is shortened from “I Cannot Stop Twinkling” and is translated into Japanese as “kirakira ga tomerarenai yo.” Has anyone really thought about this? He named himself “I AM UNABLE TO STOP THE TWINKLING.” Were you trying to stop it? Are you okay???
Why is Aoyama the one to recognize and provide exposition on who Recovery Girl is??? Like, why? What? The narrator could have told us who she is, right?? (Did you know Recovery Girl has the same birthday as Tomura Shigaraki, April 4th, super super unlucky day of DEATH NUMBERS?)
But while rifling through episodes and manga pages, I pretty quickly came upon another discovery...
IV. The anime added a ton of extra Aoyama scenes for some reason??
Aoyama isn’t in this scene in the manga. The anime added him in.
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And then he gets interrupted and hidden by Ashido. Why? Why add this? We already learned his name a few episodes ago!
But the anime doesn’t stop there.
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This was almost the entire Ashido vs Aoyama fight in the Sports Festival as told by the manga. The anime stretched it out, which, I get it, filler. But I just...now I want to know what does his bellybutton look like without the belt? I can’t help but wonder??? SHOULD I BE WONDERING THAT?
Because at the time, I was looking for evidence that maybe Aoyama is just the sludge villain inside a skin suit. And gosh, I still can’t discount the possibility. Aoyama is normally able to keep cool in dangerous situations, which is pretty much his highlighted trait in the entrance exam, but every so often he looks utterly terrified by something.
He’s really not fond of Ashido after she acids his cape. You know, the goopy acid girl. The one who...wanted to name herself Alien Queen, which was rejected because of the Ridley Scott movies...about the alien bursting out of people’s stomachs.
Aoyama gets a lot of stomachaches.
The anime also just recently added in this bit in Season 5.
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Aoyama was not heavily featured in this moment in the manga, but the anime adds this whole scene of him cowering in fear of Dark Shadow (despite being able to protect himself with his navel laser quite easily here). Why is he freaking out when he normally doesn’t panic in battle?
Is it just bad filler? Is it...because he’s facing a parasitic body-controlling monster?
But the manga isn’t completely silent on this theme, because remember, Kuroiro shows up and fakes Tokoyami out, revealing his true goal is to capture Aoyama first. And he successfully abducts Aoyama, which the anime adds an excellent R2D2 scream to, because humor will properly distract us from HOW TERRIFIED AOYAMA IS AT THIS MOMENT.
Because he’s been snagged by a guy who melts into the shadows with the “ooze” sound effect.
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WE HAVE TO GO DEEPER
V. Aoyama has 0 problems after being brainwashed, I GUESS
Aoyama is on Shinsou’s team for the cavalry battle in the sports festival. Shinsou brainwashed everyone on his team. The other two members of his team dropped out of the tournament in shame, believing they should only make it to the finals on their own merits and skills. How can they claim to do that if they can’t remember even getting here?
But Aoyama isn’t moved. He stays in the tournament.
He also makes a weird (twinkling) facial expression though, kinda like the one Toga makes when she’s pretending to be Ochako and about to knock Izuku out of the provisional hero license exam. I do not know what to make of this. Maybe Aoyama just has no shame about being mind controlled because he’s already that way on a daily basisvlfhabjhkksdn no we’re not there yet.
VI. “I mostly just need bug spray” for Aoyama Inception
Why does the final exam arc start like this?
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Which way are you facing, sweetie???
Like I can’t even tell if he’s looking at the people standing beside him or just directly at the audience because we all know he’s capable of the latter, but this is the arc where...
Is it possible Aoyama asked Ochako if she has a crush on Izuku to...distract her? Like it’s not true at all, but he wants to distract her so she’ll end up his meat shield or something? So he basically inceptions her with her crush, which is why that romantic subplot seems so damn forced?
Was he worried the power of Thirteen’s Black Hole would have bad repercussions for him? Like his belt might slip off or...something might...slip out...?
NO NO NO I’M NOT GOING INTO CONSPIRACY THEORY MODE YET
How convenient that his crush inception distracts Ochako long enough for Shigaraki to get the jump on Izuku though.
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I mean, if we’re taking these panels literally...Aoyama is the bug?
VII. Summer Training Camp: WHAT. THE. FUCK.
Remember when everyone draws lots to form pairs for the test of courage? Aoyama gets paired with Yaoyorozu. Then, Katsuki wants to swap with Ojiro, Mineta’s partner, so he can get out of being paired with Todoroki. At the same time, Mineta asks to swap with Aoyama so he can be with Yaoyorozu.
Aoyama refuses. Why?
It could be for Yaoyorozu’s sake. It could also be because...he doesn’t want to partner with Ojiro, I guess. OR...maybe he doesn’t want to partner with Katsuki if all the swaps happen?
Traitor theorists: Because he knew Katsuki would be targeted by the LOV tonight?
Me, doing everything in my power to ignore how this all started when I wondered if Aoyama is the sludge villain in disguise: God, I hope it’s just nothing.
And then we don’t see Aoyama again for quite a while, until we find him hiding in the woods with the unconscious Jirou and Hagakure, and...um...
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Why isn’t he wearing his gas mask?
No. Seriously. Why did he take that off??????
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Yaoyorozu asked Aoyama to take Jirou and Hagakure back to camp, but this WHOLE time he was hiding in this little area with them? If it was a safe breathing space, HOW DID HE FIND IT? And if it wasn’t, WHY WASN’T HE WEARING HIS GAS MASK? He left the masks on the other two, so clearly he thought it was still necessary for them. Does he not need to breathe?
...
DOES HE NOT NEED TO BREATHE??
...oh god, setting that aside.
Even if Aoyama is the traitor, I don’t know how well this scene works as support. Dabi clearly doesn’t expect Aoyama to be there, and then for some reason forgets about him? Aoyama covers his mouth like he’s afraid, but we established earlier that he’s not a coward. It seems he’s just afraid of...certain situations.
What is going on here? Does he know something no one else does?
DID YOU SEE HIS FACE AT THE HOSPITAL WHEN HE IS TRYING TO CONVINCE KIRISHIMA NOT TO GO RESCUE KATSUKI?
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You okay, bud?
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He looks so much more freaked out than everyone else. That’s his reaction to Tsuyu’s line about how, “If we break the law, then we’re no better than villains.” WHY?
VIII. USJ: He’s not...THERE...is he?
Does this seem out of order? Bear with me here.
Here’s the famous panel that gets everyone talking about “Hey, where DID Hagakure end up when everyone was teleported away?”
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People theorize that Hagakure lies about ending up with Todoroki because she’s standing so far away from him (she’s in front of Satou), and also because she saw Ojiro but that would be a very far way for her to see if she was where Todoroki ends up.
Generally speaking, people ended up warped together with whoever they were standing near.
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The most obvious places for Aoyama to end up would be with either Todoroki or Ojiro because that would spread the teams thinly and he was standing fairly close to them. However, might I point out something VERY INTERESTING.
As they’re being warped away, Aoyama gets shown together in a panel with one particular group.
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...did Aoyama end up in the flood zone with Izuku’s group?
If so...why didn’t we see him?
Where could he have possibly hid?
...underwater?
...
D O E S   H E   N O T   N E E D   T O   B R E A T H E ? ?
Still waters run deep.
STOP
IX. “I can’t help but stand out,” says the background character
I’m going to round it all out with a few miscellaneous notes because I just don’t have time for all of this I have to sleep someday.
In his flashback to his childhood, we see him speak to his “Papa” and “Maman,” but we’ve never seen his father. WHO IS HE?
Aoyama’s inspired by Iida in the hero provisional license exam to perform “actions that reflect his dreams,” and proceeds to make himself bait for Iida’s sake stand out so everyone can see him.
That one scene in the mall where Ochako needs bug spray? I said Aoyama is the bug. The Japanese word used here is “mushi” (means more like creepy crawlers than just bugs), which is a homophone of a Japanese word meaning “ignore.” He wants to stand out, but he’s a pest to be ignored. STILL WATERS RUN DEEP
Aoyama often has stars drawn into his speech bubbles for some kind of flair, but it seems like most often these stars show up when he’s upset or angry??? There’s also a star on the “I know” cheese platter he leaves for Izuku...
Sometimes I get the feeling Aoyama is speaking in code, maybe because he feels like he’s being watched? What if the “cheese” he keeps giving out is a hint. Like...for Hagakure??? “SAY CHEESE!”
Aoyama loves surprises. You know what counts as a surprise? A PLOT TWIST.
WHY WAS THE MAJORITY OF THIS SCENE CUT FROM THE ANIME? I feel like it’s hinting at Aoyama’s loneliness and fear of being watched or something I DON’T KNOW
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X. Theorizing my ass off
So uh, what do I do with this crap?
Is Aoyama just the sludge villain in disguise, hence why he doesn’t need to BREATHE? (Probably no, UNLESS...??) **Edit 4/29/21: U N L E S S
Is he bugged, maybe by the sludge villain or something else?
Is this even related to the League of Villains at all?
Did he catch the traitor but can’t tell anyone? Is it Hagakure? Is it IZUKU and Aoyama’s trying to tell him without alarming him that something’s in his head?
PROTECT HIM
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wornoutmouse · 3 years
Text
Yandere Tanjiro
Manipulation
Everytime I write salty sweet I think of peanut m&m's
Shout out to all my big areola having ass hoes. Pizza platter with the thick marshmallow tall nipples
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You were so obvious and you didn't even realize it. Tanjiro doesn't blame you, many people forget how great his sense of smell was. So in the end he found it amusing when your scent would change to arousal and adoration whenever he was around you. In fact it entertained him
At first he thought it was misplaced, you couldn't feel such a thing towards him, that wasn't in your character. But all of his tests gave fruitful results. As he watched you from an unnoticeable distance He was able to confirm that no one ever made your scent change into any romantic auras. Not with Inosuke or Zenitsu. He even tried to see if you had feelings for Nezuko, she was always around him. But once again there was no change.
Even after finding out, he didn't care about this discovery. It wasn't the first time a woman or man alike has had an attraction to him. He knew he was handsome and everyone loves a kind soul. But your feelings weren't going to get him closer to his goal or keep you alive in the long run so he did not address it. That doesn't mean he didn't use it to his advantage though. On many occasions, he'd find himself teasing you subtly about your crush often.
Harmless grazes along your skin, being more extravagant when he fought with Inosuke. A few times he even waited around shirtless just to see you look away from him to hide your embarrassment. The sticky sharp smell that emanated from your body clung to your skin like a cologne. Tanjiro would even say that the smell gave him a bit of a high whenever it would fluctuate from the things he did. 
Getting real close to you with a neutral face to make the arousal spark before committing a distracting act of kindness to make the soft smell of adoration and content swirl and mix into your aura. It was fun for him, almost like a game, and soon it became a routine way of life. After defeating a demon and the buzz of adrenaline dies down, you'd go right back to your bumbling self.
But then like everything Tanjiro has had in life, it is interrupted.
It happened right after you all just barely made it out of fighting the spider family. You and the others were relocated to the infirmary while Tanjiro was put on trial. He was already agitated when Sanemi pushed his filthy sword through Nezuko's flesh. So in an effort to calm himself, he decided that a little bit of teasing would help boost his mood. 
When he finally ran across you again, you were lying in your own room resting. But not alone, one of the Hashira, Uzui Tengen sat by your side telling you stories of his battles and cracking jokes.
This would be fine normally, but the scent emanating from you was annoyingly familiar. You didn't even look at Tanjiro when he walked in and had a genuine look and scent of surprise when you noticed him. "Oh Kamado, what are you doing here?" Your scent still had its tinge of attraction but it had significantly lessened, not by much but enough to annoy him. 
Tengen excused himself when he noticed his presence adding a head pat as he walked past the shorter male. For a moment Tanjiro lost focus and concern invaded your aura as you watched his face contort into one of disgust and unbridled rage. 
Kamado, Since when did you call me that? Why are you giving your attention to a Hashira? What, am I not good enough for you anymore now that you found someone stronger. 
Tanjiro never took you for the power-hungry type, you can't be. No that's not it, Tanjiro adjusts his face again to one of a content smile. "Are you okay?" 
No, you weren't trying to abandon him on purpose. It's his fault partially, he doesn't blame you, his poor sweet naive Y/n. It's understandable that after ignoring your feelings for so long you'd try to move on and save yourself from the pain. But now it was okay, cause Tanjiro would fix it, he'd accept you, cause he was all you needed. "I'm okay, I broke my ankle and wrists." You raise said appendages to the best of your ability to show off your bandages.  
For a second a dark thought crosses Tanjiro's mind. How weak you and flimsy you were,  how easy it would be for one to take advantage of you at this moment. That's why you needed him to protect you. Someone so easy to break and seduce shouldn't be on their own. That's why Tanjiro would accept you, so you could stay close. For your own good.. All you had to give him was your attention and being. 
Tanjiro sighed but for a different reason than you would ever know. If only he could put you in a box too.
B "Luckily I'm not as badly hurt like the rest of you." Tanjiro sat at your side and picked up your limp hands. "I don't know what I would have done if something were to happen to you." A small smile spreads across your face, "You would never lose us Tanjiro, Inosuke would definitely be hard to bring down." 
The attempt to make a joke is invaded as Tanjiro cups your cheek. Rough battle-worn fingertips graze your lips. Tanjiro gazes at them as he speaks, his bottom lip worried by his teeth as his other hand ghosts over your bandaged wounds. It was a perfect performance. One that replicated the emotion of one who wants to make a move but holding themselves back. One that you effortlessly believed. "You don't understand, I don't want to lose you."
Tanjiro stands up and walks towards your door. Just before opening it, he turns with a doleful look on his face. "Rest up okay?" You nod quickly. Lips puckered into an O of surprise. Tanjiro closed the door, his demeanor doing a complete 180. His gaze was calculated and precise. Tanjiro had planted a seed of conflict, and all he had to do was wait till tomorrow to sow it.
You woke up bright and early the next day, wrists sore but thankfully no longer numb. Unthankfully, you were bedridden until your ankle has healed itself correctly. Sitting alone in the dark with nothing but your thoughts was a dreadful way to spend time. However, you didn't want to disturb your friends. "Their life does not revolve around me." Getting sleep was an inviting solution.
A light tap on your door shifts your goal ever so slightly. "Come in!" You try not to look deflated when only a Kakushi boy comes in with a pail of water and new bandage wraps. 
Similarly, Tanjiro was helping around the state trending to his friends. Inosuke was being difficult as usual,  only wanting the springer to fetch him water and tea to feed his sore throat. On multiple occasions, he had to dissuade Zenitsu from trying to propose to random Kakushi women that would help clean his wounds but in the end, it was futile as he returned his infatuation to Nezuko who wistfully stayed in their shared room asleep.
By the time Tanjiro got any time to himself, the evening sun was already setting and most had retired to their own rooms. Heading to your room, Tanjiro thought of ways to get you to succumb faster to his advances. The sound of a door opening made his gaze shift abruptly. His vibrant brown eyes dulled when he saw a Kakushi boy leaving your room again. 
Entering your room was almost as if a joyous bomb had gone off. The smell of happiness was so strong it almost stinked. You didn't notice Tanjiro's soured mood as you observed your room. "He taught me how to make paper butterflies and put them on my ceilings, what do you think?!" He had indeed taught you Tanjiro mused as many of the butterflies had deformed wings of all sorts. "So what brings you here.?" Tanjiro looks back at you with a soft smile. "I just wanted the check-in on you, you must have been bored being cooped up in the room alone all day."
You shook your head, "No Kocho was here with me all day!" Tanjiro bit his tongue but maintained his smile, "Who's Kocho?" You laughed, "The Kakushi boy that just left. He had originally come just to change my wounds but then we got so interested in each other that he never left." With a blissful sigh, you tilt your head and murmur, "I hope he doesn't get into any trouble on the way back." 
Tanjiro is on you in a second, wrists held haphazardly above your head drawing slight sharp pains to your inner elbow. "Tanjiro?" His eyes observe the dark bruises swirling underneath your bandages, your hair slightly matted and in disarray, since you were the only one who knew how to do it. "You're so soft…" Having no reason to leave your room you had remained only partially dressed as a large kimono hung around your figure. Your chest easily being exposed by unnatural movements. "T-Tanjiro?" 
The boy hummed, leaning down to press a slow kiss on your brown nipple. "Say my name again.." You're taken aback by the sudden boldness and the warm feeling on your breast. "Tanjiro, what are you doing?!" He could feel himself becoming harder underneath his robe. Even though he said he was only indulging your crush to keep you near, he couldn't help but notice how sweet your skin tasted underneath his lips. "One more time, say it once again." Tanjiro begins to grind on the leg trapped in between his. He uses his other hand to cup your other boob before biting down on your nipple making you gasp. "Tanjiro!"
Your smell begins to become more lucid and tender at your arousal peaks through the haze. Your moans get airy and each time you say his name it turns more and more into gasps. Tanjiro squeezes down on your chest before traveling to your neck where his teeth sink into the flesh there. You ground yourself by holding onto his wrists. 
Tanjiro peels himself away from you as you go pliant underneath him. ‘This wasn’t the plan.’ Tanjiro removes his robe from around his shoulders exposing his tan skin. He couldn’t focus past your addicting scent and you couldn’t focus past the feeling of his hands fondling your chest. The belt of your kimono is quickly unraveled, “Look at you.”
Tanjiro pulls your undergarments off exposing your body completely. Through the fabric of his robe he thrusts shallowly against your pussy. The fabric rubs against your clit on every thrust. Both sides of the robe are becoming damp. "I haven't even touched you yet and you're already so wet." The smell of sweat and sex floods Tanjiro's nostrils making him more sensitive.
He unwraps his robe the rest of the way, tossing it elsewhere to leave himself completely exposed. Tanjiro felt a sense of pride as he watched your eyes trail over his muscled form. He wasn't buff by any means, but his training in agility and swordsmanship made his body lean and bulked in his arms and legs. "Only look at me."
You let out a surprised gasp when delicately firm hands drag your body down by your calf. Tanjiro uses his fingers to push the skin of your pussy up to force your clit to peek through. His other hand holds the base of his cock and he swirls the tip around your clit. "Tanjiro please, I'm begging you!" 
For a split second a look of unaltered disdain crosses his face before a more loving one takes over. "Your face is so cute, it almost makes me want to tease you more." Yes, that's it, play the part of a doting lover. You flinch the further his cock is pushed into you. Your bodies combine into a pulsating rhythm of jealousy and lust.
You squeeze snuggly around Tanjiro's and he sets a quick pace. Your legs try to curl to your chest but are stopped by Tanjiro's own body cornering you to the wood floor. Tanjiro steadies his breathing on every thrusts until his strokes are as smooth as the water he drinks. Slopping sounds and your pitiful cries equalize around the room. 
Tanjiro knew these walls were thin, in fact he was betting on it. "Y-You're so loud Y/n." You close your mouth at the tease but it doesn't work. Just as you go to cover your mouth you're stopped by a hand and a loving smile, "Dont, I like hearing you feel good." 
You cum, barely suppressing your sounds, hips twitching when Tanjiro cums inside right after you. An unnecessary act but one that could ensure even greater attachment if your body accepted him. 
Expertly playing the role Tanjiro cleans you up with an ever content smile on his face, this time genuine. "You should get some sleep, you'll be more sore than you were this morning." Tanjiro puts his hand on the know before flinching when you call out to him. "Tanjiro?" He doesn't turn around unwilling to force another smile. "Yes?" He can smell your apprehension as it covers the smell of sex. 
"I know its stupid to ask this but could you give me another kiss?" Tanjiro sighs silently, "Of course!" He forces his persona for the last time tonight and heads towards your bed. Halfway there he stops.
L
"Promise me you'll only look at me from now on." You smile giddily, "You're so weird Tanjiro of course I'll only love you." Tanjiro frowns and you fail to notice the space between the two of you growing smaller. "No, that's not good enough. I don't want to see you near that damn Hashira again." And then it happens. It only takes a split second before Tanjiro's face is in front of yours and the cold kiss of his blade presses against your neck.
"You wouldn't want something to happen would you?" You shake your head as he knew you would, "Good girl." Tanjiro has no care for the shocked tears gathering behind your lashes. Greedily he cups the back of your head and forces you into a kiss. All teeth pure spite as he swaps saliva with you. 
"There's your kiss." Without having to pretend any longer he drops his smile. The sinister complex of a perceived hero shining through dark eyes. He looks you up and down once again, fingers tapping along his blackened blade before taking his leave.
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sailtoafarawayland · 3 years
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Look, don’t touch...
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SUMMARY:  There's a place where she can go to play, a place where ecstasy follows the sweep of her fingers and all the men watching have to play by her rules...look, don't touch. She can't help that rules are made to be broken, as long as she's the one doing the breaking.
RATING: E (Tags: voyeurism, mutual masturbation, sex club, gloryhole)
I truly hope you all enjoy this piece. It has been sitting for some time as I deliberated on how to end it, and it is - ended. :)
/ - denote a perspective shift. // - denotes a leap forward in time.
AO3 - FF
Look, don’t touch...
She likes to be watched.
There's something about knowing that they're staring at that screen with their hands wrapped around their cocks, aching for her – that she's wanted.
But it's enough.
And if she's being completely honest, she's better at getting herself off than most of the one night stands she's had, so her 'no touching' rule isn't the detriment it might be if she had a capable partner.
She shoulders her way through the line of people waiting to get into the bar – it's a popular place, but she doesn't come here for the drinks.
The bouncer, his name is Anton –  not that she makes a habit of getting names, but he's pulled enough creeps off of her that she feels he's earned at least that courtesy – nods at her as she passes, his wide girth shifting just enough to let her pass as a whine from the lengthy line behind her rises.
The bar may be trendy enough to earn both its cover and the line of hipsters waiting out front, but Emma's far more interested in what's waiting below the sleek bartop and milling drunks.
She passes through the crowd inside unnoticed. The bartenders here are paid well enough to keep their eyes on their patrons and not on the 'regulars', and the rather modest outfit beneath her red leather jacket dissuades any other interested parties.
She doesn't look like she's here to play.
If only they knew.
/
He likes to watch.  
It's as far as he'll let himself go these days – a history of breaking everything he touches has seen to that.
But it's enough.
And if he's being honest with himself, he's not sure how much satisfaction he'd garner from fucking someone anyways. He'd probably just see her face – Milah – one more reminder of the truth he'd been running from his whole life.
He strides past the long queue waiting to get into the bar – it's narrow and cramped and raved about amongst the younger crowd who believe they're the first to discover the wonders of Absynthe, but he's not here for the overpriced ambiance and Instagram worthy cocktails.
While he does drop quite a bit on this particular hobby, it's spent below deck, and it affords him a respectful – if surprised – nod from the bouncer at the door as he approaches.
“Good evening, Mr. Jones,” the giant of a man murmurs, keeping his name hushed as he steps to the side to allow him entrance, “not your usual evening.”
“Aye, my schedule's changed recently,” he cedes, acknowledging the man's observance. “You have a lovely evening, Anton.”
Anton chuckles behind him and Killian allows a small smile. It's an odd thing to say to the man who's left outside checking identification while he descends to a place where lovely evenings are promised if you've deep enough pockets.  
He grabs the attention of more than a few lasses when he enters the bar, everything from the clothing he wears to the disinterested gleam in his eye screaming money, but he has no interest in the leggy brunette swirling to face him on her bar stool, her lips already twisted into an obsequious smile. The redhead who casually cold-shoulders the man chatting her up as he passes does nothing to stir his inspiration either.
Once upon a time, perhaps, he would have taken one or both of them back to some bed in some hotel room, but that isn't why Killian Jones comes to the Jolly Roger – and it most certainly isn't what he's looking for when he brandishes a key card and descends to the club hidden beneath.
Neverland.  
He follows the familiar path to his chosen room, glad to see things just as he'd left them the week prior. Hes not surprised to see different girls – and some men – on the touchscreen. He assumes most people who frequent the club keep to a schedule, and his has changed, after all. His eyes slip lazily over the selection, almost bored until he spots a sensuous figure moving away from the camera and toward a wide, black leather lounge. His tongue sweeps across his lip as he drinks her in, all long hard lines that fade flawlessly into where she's soft and pliant.
Desire stabs like lightning from the base of his spine and rolls down his arms on a shiver.  
There's something about her, and before he can second-guess his actions, he's selected her camera feed and settled back into his chair, her body filling the screen in front of him. She's stretched across the lounge, the camera angle giving him a perfect view. Her neck and breasts, one arm draped across the back as the other slides down her firm stomach and teases her sex.
She's not waxed completely as most of the women here are, her thatch of dark, golden hair trimmed neatly and reminding him that she's all woman.
He likes it.
He doesn't normally like blondes, but he likes her.
He watches as she slides her hand lower. She's already wet, he can see her arousal glistening on her flushed skin and the finger she draws up to her lips, smiling wickedly for the camera as she licks it clean.
It usually takes him a few moments to get hard when he comes here, needing to willfully push away the thoughts of Milah, but he finds that with this woman, he's been hard from the first moment he saw her. He unzips his slacks lazily and slides his hand over his erection, rubbing it gently as he watches her swivel her hips, both of her hands returning to her thighs and sliding closer to where she's spread open and on display.
He's in no rush to end his pleasure, and it seems neither is she.
A single digit teases her clit while the rest part her folds, allowing him a view of her glistening cunt. His tongue wets his lips as he imagines how she would taste on it, how beautifully those pink folds would stretch around him as he buried himself within her. He palms his cock more firmly and rises, letting his pants drop as he sits back to enjoy the show.
She likes to be watched – he can tell by the way she teases, the way her manicured nails – no polish, just the blush of natural, seashell pink – spread her lips for him, the way she drags her arousal from her depths and smears it over her clit, circling it delicately while letting indulgent moans fall from her perfect mouth. She's enjoying her moment, taking her time with him – but even though it's the first time he's seen this siren on his screen, he feels he knows her.
Like she's an open book.
Somehow he knows that when she finally gives in, she'll be wild and magnificent and utterly free.  
It makes him wish he could rut his cock into that pretty mouth and feel just how deeply she can truly give of herself.
His fingers wrap around his length, sliding gently. The head of his cock is already throbbing with need as he keeps his eyes on the wanton minx gracing his screen. She's slipped lower on the custom lounge – Neverland always did have a flair for both style and function – the full swells of her ass resting on the edge as she pushes two fingers into her entrance. The delicious sheen of her arousal is that much more obvious as she hovers near the camera, a trembling gasp leaving her lips as she begins to move, stroking against some unseen place that has her writhing.
He lets out a grunt and thrusts into his waiting hand, lost in the way her pale skin glows as she pleasures herself. Her back arches, exposing just how firm her backside really is as she momentarily leaves the couch while exploring her depths, a third finger joining the first two. He can hear how sopping wet she is, soft pleas for more falling from her lips. While he wants to close his eyes, to imagine it's his fingers she's riding, and him she's begging, he doesn't want to miss a moment.
Hot, aching pleasure thrums behind his cock, his balls full and heavy as he palms them. A jolt of electricity runs through his legs as he squeezes, imagining how it would feel to empty them in her throat, in her cunt, all over her pretty face.
She pulls her fingers from her core and returns them to the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her sex, this time her movements rough and needy as she pushes against it and over it, a long, drawn out whimper filling the small room she's occupying. Her knees bend and she arches once more, a fresh wave of creamy arousal dripping from her folds as she shudders and comes, the evidence of her satisfaction smearing against the black leather as she falls back to the chair.
For an instant, he's disappointed. She's peaked far sooner than he'd anticipated, and while he can certainly find his release from the memory of her alone, it isn't what he's craving. He continues stroking himself, waiting to see if she'll continue. There's no limit on the room for those putting on a show, and the limit for those watching is only hindered by how much they're willing to spend. A wave of satisfaction rolls through him as the woman comes back to herself, straightening her body languidly and reaching off camera.
Killian's eyes darken, his hand tightening around his shaft as he watches her pull a dildo from wherever her things have been set aside. He catches another glimpse of her face – high cheekbones and brilliant green eyes – before she spins around, her fingers catching the adjustment on the chair with practiced ease and reclining the cushioned back of the lounge slightly. Her lithe frame stretches across it, blessing him with a perfect view of an even more perfect arse.
Shooting a coy glance over her shoulder at the camera, she pops the pink head of the toy into her mouth, her lips enveloping it as she tongues its length, wetting the thick shaft and letting it sink deep into her throat before pulling it free. His abdomen clenches as he pictures his own cock splitting her lips, sliding into that sinful heat and feeling her tongue caress every inch of him.
He's larger than the toy she's currently dragging over her ass, but somehow he just knows she could take him.
His heart races as he watches her slide the toy closer to her slick core, pushing herself up on her other arm as she angles the head of it against her folds, lush and pink and parting so beautifully around it as she presses it deeply into her channel, a low moan of satisfaction pouring from her pursed lips. His fist moves swiftly up and down, his thumb rolling over the tip and dragging his precum back down as he works himself. His other hand wraps tightly around his balls, massaging and pulling, picturing her fingers holding him, her tongue laving the salty hint of his release as she pleasures him.
Her moans echo from the large screen in front of him, and though he can select one of the other camera feeds in her room – perhaps catch a glimpse of her rosy nipples pressed to cold leather – he cannot bear to drag his eyes away from where she's fucking herself, the toy slipping easily from her drenched sheath before slamming back in.  
He soaks in each noise that she give him, each soft gasp and cry as she climbs toward her second release. His hips buck upward, cock angry and red as he pushes through his fist and imagines he's reaching the deepest parts of her instead, the tip of him caressing the very end of her as he comes with a groan. His balls draw up and his finish tears through him, hot ropes of his seed spurting upward before coating his own hand and stomach, his shaft throbbing mercilessly as he continues to pump the last of his essence free.
His thighs tremble as the last waves of ecstasy roll over him, and he's glad to have finished just before her, that he can now truly appreciate the way her body arches as she thrusts back against the toy with complete abandon, her arousal creamy and painting the shaft of the object she's using for her pleasure. Her moans are a crescendo that he swears he can feel on his skin. He can't take his eyes from her, from the way her lips are bitten red and parted into the most elegant shape, her pale skin flushed a dusky rose that he wants to map with his fingers.
She thrusts a few more times desperately into herself, and then her back arches and she bucks wildly, the strength of her orgasm ripping through her, forcing the toy from her body as she comes. She holds it tremulously against her, rubbing gently, the sweet nectar of her release dripping over it and running down her thighs as she quivers.
Killian's hand is still wrapped loosely around his cock, and despite the fact that he's entirely spent, he feels himself hardening once more as the woman pulls herself from the leather couch and approaches the camera seductively, the dildo still grasped in her hand as she gets closer. His screen fills with the perfect roundness of her breasts and the taut expanse of her stomach, all of her glistening. He swallows heavily, his heart pounding in his ears as she raises the toy with a knowing smirk and brings it to her lips, never breaking eye contact with the camera as she drags her tongue up and down its length, licking every drop of her own essence from it.
A sated hum pours from her throat as she opens those beautiful lips and sucks it clean, just for him.
“That's a good girl,” he hisses, his cock half hard and yearning for someone quite literally beyond his reach.
Then she smiles one last time for the camera, and for the first time in years, he regrets his rule – look, don't touch – because he very much wants to touch her, to see that smile rise once more, but only because his fingers pulled it from her, his lips exploring it.
“Bloody hell,” he rasps, and his screen goes black, the feed cut from the other end.
/
Emma cuts the camera, her skin on fire. The taste of her arousal is still on her lips as she backs toward the lounge and drops, her thighs sticking slightly in the dampness she'd left behind.
Her eyes flicker back toward the camera and the counter set up beside it – the digital number now firmly at zero, though only moments earlier, it had climbed much higher, the digits rapidly changing from six to ten to fifteen. Something about knowing that that many people were watching her, tucked away in their rooms and pleasuring themselves to the way she played was nearly enough to make her flip the feed back on and go again, but lingering wasn't really her thing.
In and out.
She'd be back next week – the scheduled release was something to look forward to.
Taking the provided wipes, she cleans up and dresses, sliding shaky legs into her jeans and pulling back on her white sweater. Her red leather jacket and messenger bag complete the ensemble. She opens the door to the room and steps out into the lonely hallway, a few other cubicles showing the red lights that mean they're still occupied. Others have been left open for the staff to clean.
She does the same.
They're top notch here, and that's why she keeps coming. Discreet, respectful, and clean – and she's not just talking about the furniture. Just like everyone else, she submits to a monthly screening and its a relief to know there aren't just randoms walking in off the street.
Everyone who's a member here has been vetted and approved.
She walks the familiar route back to the main lounge – the camera rooms separate from the rest of the playrooms and cubicles – and slips through the curtained entry back into the rush of Neverland. A long bar lines the far wall, well-dressed bartenders serving drinks to people who chat quietly. Though she can hear the more passionate noises that come from one of the playrooms just beyond – a den for those looking to engage either publicly, or with a group.
There's a balcony overlooking that particular space.
It's never been her thing.
Her disastrous history with Neal, Walsh's betrayal, and her stumbling, lackluster relationship with Graham – not to mention the string of unsatisfying one night stands – were all the precursor to her rule.
Look, don't touch.
She can't say she's ever had an orgasm that made it worth it, worth the risk of putting herself out there and getting hurt once more.
Being watched, it's enough, and it makes her feel beautiful and powerful, wanted – in control.
She can spot the newbies right away in the lounge, their gazes linger too long on the people around them, on the numerous doors and alcoves that sprawl from one corner to another. Most people here are regulars, and they follow the same rules that she does – don't make anyone feel uncomfortable, and keep a respectful distance unless otherwise indicated.
It's another reason why she likes this club. She's never had any of the members corner her or hit on her – even though she knows quite a few get their rocks off watching her.
But as she passes through the curtain into the darkened lounge, something draws her eye toward the bar and she sees someone new. He must be new, because he certainly doesn't have a face she could ever forget.
He's leaning against the wall, a tumbler of something amber in his hand. He searches its depths, his gaze hidden behind strands of black hair that fall across his face, a dusting of stubble shadowing his jaw. She swallows as her eyes travel lower, taking in the tantalizing view of his chest, curls of dark hair visible between the slivers of his open button down. The entire package is wrapped in a suit that looks like it could buy her apartment and every parking space on the block.
He doesn't have the air of someone new, but she's sure she's never seen him before. It's only as his weight shifts slightly from one hip to the other that she realizes she's been staring, and she hastily looks away and continues on toward the exit.
She imagines she feels his eyes burning into her as she crosses the room, but resists the temptation to turn back and discover what color they might be.
It doesn't matter to her who watches.
/
Killian steps into the lounge and catches the bartender's eye before moving to his usual place. His gaze is locked on the black curtain across the room, every sound dulled until the slide of glass across polished wood grabs his attention. He wraps his hand around the warmth of the tumbler, and bringing it to his lips, he reclines against the wall and lets it sooth the tumult he can't dispel.
It's always been so simple to take his pleasure and leave, his thoughts usually already moving on to business before his pants are even done up, but despite the camera feed being cut, images of the blonde goddess he'd just watched are still haunting him, following him down the hall and into the lounge, the echo of her moans still tingling along the length of his skin and making him half hard.  
He stares down into the still liquid in his hand, searching his brain for figures and numbers that won't come, all common sense blown away by the intense green of her eyes and the curve of her cheek as she smiled. It takes him a moment to realize that the fire burning in his chest has nothing to do with the rum, and he lifts his head just in time to see the woman who'd captured his thoughts glancing swiftly away from him, a soft blush suffusing her cheeks as she strides quickly past and through the exit.
His fingers tighten around glass, it's fragility as it shatters reminding him just why he can't follow.
//
His hands are empty, an unusual state to find himself in while enjoying Neverland's atmosphere, but he'd already enjoyed a glass of his favorite drink at home, and he wants to be clearheaded for the golden haired beauty he knows will soon arrive.
Since discovering that she frequents the club on Fridays, he's made certain his evenings are free. As the weeks passed, he's found himself unable to think of much else besides her creamy skin and the pink slice of heaven she hides between them, how she spreads herself with nimble fingers and brings herself to the peak, over and over for him.  
His cock throbs in his slacks as he watches the stairwell, a shiver of something dangerous running through him as he remembers all the others that will be watching her, imagining it's them thrusting into her tight heat and latching onto her full breasts as she writhes beneath them.
It's dangerous water he's treading, thinking that way.
He doesn't have to wait much longer, his eyes snapping to her immediately as she descends into the lounge, dressed in what he's come to learn is customary for her – leather and denim. This night her boots are black and high as she strides into the room, her footfalls silenced by the decadent carpeting.
She finds him immediately, a new development for which he's eternally grateful – he can't have her, but he can have this. Their shared glances are far more discreet and respectful than previously, but this time she drinks him in, a red lip drawn beneath her teeth.
She heads toward the black curtain that leads toward the camera rooms.
He's moving immediately, ready to take his usual booth – but then she stops, her fingers playing with the dark velvet as if she's forgotten where to go.
She steps back and his heart drops – perhaps she's changed her mind now that she's aware of his intense interest in her. She casts one last glance over her shoulder and drops the curtain, turning away and walking swiftly to the far corner of the lounge.
There's a narrow door, it's handle wrapped in her fingers. The door that leads to – no, she wouldn't.
He takes several rushed steps across the lounge before stopping and restraining himself, his fingers curled into fists and jaw ticking. He can't; it's against his rule – a rule he's kept for a very good reason.
“Mark my words, son,” his father spat, voice heavy with drink as he swayed on the kitchen chair, jabbing a finger at his son accusingly. “If it weren't for you, I'd of had more time with her – you're a curse, and you'll break everything you touch in life.”
His mother gone. Liam gone – and Milah as well, the only woman he'd loved, lost to him forever.
His father had been right all those years ago. He ruins any happiness that he could have. Everything he touches winds up dead, broken.
Killian stands beneath the low lights of the lounge, everything seeming to still and slow as he watches the narrow door close behind her. How long will it be before someone else follows her, before it's another man feeling the glory of her mouth instead of him?
She wants it to be him. She's made it clear enough these past few weeks that the interest isn't one-sided. The only question os whether or not he can risk it.
Unable to stomach the thought of another man touching her, sinking into her, he pushes down the warning in his gut – don't risk it – and moves as quickly as he can without running. His heart drums against his chest as he enters the long hallway of rooms and catches a flash of her red leather disappearing into one of the doors.
As soon as the door latches closed behind her, a green light flashes on, and his gaze slips to the booth that adjoins it, an arrow linking the two together.
He feels curiously outside his body as he wraps his hand around the lever and pulls, the door opening easily. He steps into its dark interior, everything slick and so clean it's practically mirrored. The dark walls reflect his uncertainty as he shuts and locks the door behind him. In the distance, he can hear the moans and grunts of someone else taking their pleasure down the line, and though his brain is screaming that he needs to leave – you can't ruin anyone else – another part of him knows that if someone else had followed her in here, he would have dragged them bodily from the room.
He doesn't know her name, but he knows he can't let anyone else have her.  
Everything is silent between them – two lonely rooms and a wall – and then he hears the sound of her leather jacket dropping onto something, perhaps a bench or stool. There's the zip of her jeans and the soft hush of more layers falling. A wave of longing roars in his chest as she finally moves into his limited view, her flushed breasts and pebbled nipples appearing suddenly beyond the hole in the wall.
She raises her hand where he can see it and makes a come hither motion.
He steps closer to the wall, swallowing heavily as his view shifts to showcase her folded legs and a pair of black, lacy panties covering her sex. Her skin is pale and nearly glowing in the strange lights above them, flushed and surely more silky than anything he's ever felt – god, how he wants to touch her.
If he was thinking clearly, he'd turn and walk out. He was toxic, everything that was soft and beautiful doomed by his touch. Killian likes to think he's always been strong, but in this moment he knows he's a weak man.  
He reaches for the buttons on his shirt, popping the few that remain closed and pulling it free of his slacks. The zipper is cool against his heated skin as he drags it down, his pants slipping lower, and quickly followed by the soft, black fabric of his boxer-briefs.
He hears the soft intake of her breath from the other side of the wall that stands between them, sees the way her thighs shift and rub together as she watches from her vantage on the floor, and he wastes no time taking his cock in hand – already heavy and throbbing with anticipation. He slides it through the hole in the wall, his forehead thumping gently against its hard surface as he waits to feel the hot wetness of her mouth.
/
Every memory from the past few weeks chases her footsteps as she slips through the discreet doorway – the intense looks, the barely restrained hunger in the way he runs his tongue across his lips when he watches her leave. Somehow, she just knows he's imagining how she tastes, and not the liquor in his glass.
Yet she's never crossed the distance of the lounge to approach him, and he's maintained that same distance, merely watching her like a predator from the shadows – waiting.
It should be fine. She has her rule – look, don't touch – but there's something about him that makes her want to throw caution to the wind and haul his lips against hers by that expensive suit he wears so well.
So she makes a change in plans.
Her breath feels like a flight of birds as she steps into an open booth – one of a pair is how they do it here, apparently. She catches a flash of bespoke cashmere and tousled, dark locks rounding the corner as she pulls the door shut behind her. Her heart races, a shudder sparking over her skin.
She shouldn't, but she wants this.
Her eyes drop to the wall at her left, the large, smooth hole in its glossy facade reminding her that there will be very limited touching going on here – indulging this one time won't hurt her.
She won't let it.
On the other side of the wall she hears the quiet hiss of the door opening and clicking shut, hesitant footsteps sounding as he enters and moves into the center of the booth. She still hasn't moved from her place just inside the door, but knowing he's there – the man who's face has been the inspiration behind all of her orgasms these past few weeks – she's already wet.
She needs him, needs this – needs to touch, just this once.
She slides her jacket from her shoulders and drapes it over a stool to her right, her shirt and pants quickly following as she moves into the center of the booth and kneels on the vinyl pillow that's waiting in front of the wall between them. Her view is the elegant drape of his slacks, hands slipped into his pockets and a crisp, black button down tucked neatly into his belted waist.
Her hand has a mind of its own, rising to summon him closer.
She watches as he steps forward, long fingers – silver rings glinting on his knuckles – nimbly undoing the buttons on his shirt before pulling it from his slacks, exposing a trail of dark hair that disappears into his waistband. Her mouth goes dry as those same fingers – fingers she's imagined sliding deep inside of her – tug at his zipper, both his pants and the dark fabric of his briefs sliding down his narrow hips.
She can't stop the way her breath catches in her throat, her eyes widening as she takes in the sight in front of her. His cock is nearly fully hard, but still growing as he wraps his hand around it, giving it a slow pump as he steps closer to the wall.
He's definitely worth her breaking the rule, just this once.
She presses her thighs together, trying to quell the pang of desire that lances through her as he angles the swollen head of his cock through the hole to her side of the wall – thick and red, his slit glimmering with arousal as he pushes himself fully against the booth, the rest of his cock following through, every magnificent inch begging to be tasted.
She moves forward, shaking away the stupor that's fallen over her at the sight of him, massive and throbbing. He's thick, his length traced with veins that she wants to run her tongue along. Beyond the wall she can just see a hint of what else he's hiding in those suit pants, and they look just as full and heavy as the rest of him.
Fuck, she just wants to dive in, but she also doesn't want it to be over so soon.
A one time thing.
She reaches out to touch him, satin over steel, her fingertips dragging from the base up, gently catching on his skin that rolls to kiss the flared edge of his crown before sliding back down, drawing a sharp breath from his lips. She smiles, licks her lips, unsure if he can see her. Her grip tightens and she leans closer, her mouth open, but barely ghosting along his flesh as she takes in the scent of him – musky, yet fresh, that salty tang of hot skin and the undeniable notes of precum.
She's not even being touched, but she's never been so turned on in her life.
Swallowing heavily, she presses her lips along the edge of his shaft, open-mouthed kisses that glide across the ridges and veins of his member, the heat of her mouth moving closer and closer to where she's starving to swallow him down entirely.
She finally lets her tongue explore him in the way she craves, dragging along the underside of his cock and reveling in the way the feel and taste of him are fulfilling something she hadn't known she'd been missing. A fresh surge of pleasure twists in her center as he lets out a guttural moan and pushes hard against the wall.
“Bloody hell, lass,” he groans, voice raspy and broken.
Emma whimpers. She fucking whimpers, because he can't just be gorgeous and hung, he's got an accent as well, and this entire this is just too much – but her mouth is full of him and even though she has warning bells throwing themselves at her skull, she never wants to go back.
She pulls back for the briefest of seconds, letting herself admire just how perfectly he's built before she gets to work. This can't happen again, she can't let it, so she's going to make sure it's the best fucking blowjob he's ever had. She keeps her hands busy with his shaft, because if she doesn't, she'll have her fingers buried inside herself while she sucks him off – she's that fucking desperate. Instead, she grips him gently with one and lets the other slip through the glory hole that's just big enough, cupping his balls. His body shivers as soon as she does it, a dark, pleased sound leaving his mouth and muffled against the wall between them. She rolls them in her palm as she caresses his swollen head with her lips, not fully taking him in, but teasing with how soft and wet she'll be when she does.
She runs her tongue along the underside, flicking gently side to side over where his foreskin is connected and reveling in the broken noise it pulls from him. Her tongue laves upward, teasing his slit. The hint of his essence slides onto her tongue and she can't help but think...
“...fuck, that could be addicting.”
He chuckles and she bites her lip. She hadn't meant to say that out loud, but now it was out there. He knew her voice.
But what did it matter? He's already seen every other part of her intimately. He knows how she pleasures herself, he knows what she looks like, and soon, he'll know just how she sucks cock. What do a few more words between them matter?  
What does matters is that she likes this, wants it. She'd enjoyed knowing he was watching her get off every week, and now she wants a taste of what only he can give her. Doubling down, she sucks hard, grinning inwardly as his laughter turns into a choked groan as the head of his cock rubs thickly against her throat, her tongue pressing and massaging his shaft.
She'll never get all of him down, certainly not at this angle, and not without some coaxing, so she makes sure her hands are busy, pumping his shaft as she swallows teasingly.
“Bloody fuck, woman,” he growls, thrusting forward sharply enough that her hand cupping his balls is pushed roughly against the wall, “so hot and wet...tell me, is your cunt just as wet for me? Are you dripping and desperate to be filled?”
She groans wantonly around him, her jaw aching as it stretches, her head bobbing back and forth as she slowly works his length, her hand stroking every inch of him she can't fit. This man is fucking sin and he knows it.
“Yes,” she gasps, pulling free to choke down a breath and admit that she is, in fact, dripping on the cushion below her knees, her clit throbbing with a need that sparks and bites and curls into her stomach, demanding relief. She'd touch herself if it didn't mean having to let go of some part of the magnificent cock he's packing.
“Love the way you swallow me down, lass,” he rasps, his words affecting her no less for being deadened by the wall between them – and far more than any other man's hands ever have. “Could you take all of me, I wonder, if it weren't for this?” His knuckles rap against the wall, her answer lost in the muffled noises she makes as she surges hungrily down his length, all thoughts of finesse gone as she gives in to the primal need to simply take as much of him as she can.
Thankfully, he doesn't seem to mind the change of pace, whatever he'd planned on saying next lost in a tumble of curses as she squeezes his balls at the same time her throat squeezes the head of his cock that's finally slipping in, her new angle giving her a little more to work with.
Her throat won't thank her tomorrow, but right now she's full of the most delicious thing she's ever set eyes on, and she's going to enjoy it.
Saliva drips thickly from her lips as she shuttles back and forth on him, each noise that falls between them urging her farther. She's a mess, her eyes watering and mascara running as she chokes him down, barely remembering to suck in a breath each time she pulls free.
“God...wanna fucking touch you, love,” he mumbles from the other side of the wall, his eloquence roughened and gritty with need, stirring images of those words pressed sleepily into the back of her neck in the early hours of the morning – and that's what makes her realize she needs to end this sooner rather than later.
Her nails scratch on the rough side of gentle across the puckered skin of his sack, his balls heavy and pulled tight to his body – fuck, she wants to taste him so bad – and she swirls her tongue around the tip of his cock each time it leaves her throat. The room is filled with the wet sounds of her fucking him with her mouth. It doesn't take her long once she sets her mind to it, the combination of her hand and throat, her lips wrapping like velvet around her teeth and pressing just right.
He gives her some warning – such a gentleman – his muttered curse and hips crashing into the wall just before he comes, his cock throbbing mercilessly inside of her mouth.
She let's go of every worry for that instant, basking in the praise he's growling against the wall between them as he unloads in her mouth, his shaft pulsing and shooting rope after rope of his come down her throat. She swallows and draws back, moaning as the rest of his release fills her mouth.
She's not surprised he packs just as much in this department too.
His cock softening between her lips, she draws her hand away from the hot flesh between his thighs and back through the wall, caressing his skin as she releases him, her tongue licking stripes along his length until he's clean in the palm of her hand.
Everything is still and quiet, his slowing breaths answered by her own. That's when the panic hits like a freight train.
She knows he'll need a minute – she feels like she needs five – but instead she's shoving herself back into his discarded clothes, ignoring the ache that's throbbing relentlessly between her own legs.
The last thing she wants – it's a lie, she knows it even as she thinks it – is to see him, to be within reach of those long fingers and the lips she's seen all too often curved into a delicious smirk.
She's never dressed so fast in her life, barely registering the wince he makes as he pulls his cock back through the glory hole.
“Lass,” he murmurs, his accent still heavy with lust as he tucks himself back into his pants and zips them up. “That was...”
“A one time thing,” she cuts in, needing this whole thing to just stop – right here, and then she's snatching her jacket up, jerking open the door, and storming down the hall before she can change her mind.  
/
Killian can only watch as the woman's blonde hair disappears through the door that leads back to the lounge. She clearly doesn't want to linger after giving him the best blowjob he's ever received in his life. It had been good to start, she was certainly skilled, and he knows he isn't necessarily an easy fit, but for a moment he'd worried it would be just that – nothing more than skill and technique.
Then she'd let go, giving and and just enjoying it – and that was rare.
Hearing the way she was very clearly getting off on sucking him down, that had done it more than anything else – her soft whimpers and moans, the way she couldn't get him back down her throat quickly enough when she needed to come up for air.
He runs his fingers down either side of his jaw, shaking his head before finishing the last of his buttons as he stands in the hall, still staring at the door she'd disappeared through. He'll be dreaming of her stretched across his bed tonight, her tight cunt a wet and glistening feast as he drives himself straight into that hungry mouth of hers – but more than that, he wishes she hadn't left.
He wishes he could have spread her out in that damned room and sampled exactly what pleasuring him had done to her, licked and sucked and nibbled her flesh until she was falling apart around him, clutching his head to her pulsing heat and begging for more, for all of him.
“Bloody hell,” he sighs, letting his weight fall heavily against the wall behind him, her parting words a sharp blade slowly working its way deeper, but from the depths of his past other words rise to the surface – a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.
He wants to touch her more than he wants to breathe, he's just not sure he'll ever be able to stop once he has her.
END
Tagging:  @donteattheappleshook​ @justanother-unluckysoul​ @kmomof4​ @the-darkdragonfly​ @teamhook​ @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @tiganasummertree​ @pirateprincessofpizza​ @lfh1226-linda @alexa-fangirl-forever​ @alifeofdreams @superchocovian​ @hollyethecurious​ @caught-in-the-filter​ @snowbellewells​ @itsfabianadocarmo @stahlop​ @karlyfr13s​ @elizabeethan​ @rkrbirdgirl @batana54​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ 
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jeongminsungie · 3 years
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Aren’t You Afraid? ⊰Jeongin POV - The First Night⊱
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★ Pairing: Vampire!Jeongin/Reader
★ Genre: vampire!au, supernatural!au, strangers to lovers (later), fluff, humor, tiny bit of angst, Jeongin is so sweet, will update genre tags as I go along
★ Word Count: ~11.5k
★ Summary: You weren’t really sure what you expected when you walked into the ballroom that night, but you definitely weren’t expecting to meet anyone who piqued your interest, let alone a vampire. What was even more unexpected was the excitement you felt when around him, which should’ve made you afraid, but it didn’t.
★ TW for this chapter: mentions of blood and feeding from vampire perspective, tense situations
A/N: so this is something new I’ve decided to incorporate: Jeongin POVs on certain scenes! I’ll occasionally add these in as bonus parts for the story, so here’s a look at his POV from the first night (all of Part 1 and some of Part 2) where he meets the reader~
⊱──────── ★ ────────⊰
The night started out like Jeongin had anticipated it would. He showed up to the ballroom early as he did every year, finding a spot away from the crowd where he could drink in peace and observe those around him. He rarely mingled with the crowd at these outings, and he still wasn’t sure why he continued to come to them in the first place.
Well…he partially knew why, but he didn’t want to admit it, not to himself and certainly not out loud to anyone else. So, he simply didn’t.
Jisung had even mentioned it was a bad idea to attend tonight. It had been longer than usual since they last fed and Jisung knew that there would be nearly as many humans in attendance as there would be vampires.
“Jeongin,” Jisung had stated earlier that night, brows furrowed as he watched his roommate get ready to depart. “Think about this. You don’t want to put yourself in a situation that you won’t want to – or can’t – get out of.”
Jeongin shrugged into the blazer of his suit, ducking back into his room so he could give himself one last look-over. He fixed a few of his unruly hair strands and grimaced at the way the veins could be seen through the skin on his neck. Anyone who knew anything about vampires would likely be able to tell immediately, and if they knew more about that situation, it would probably make them run away.
Despite living in a town where vampires were accepted instead of prosecuted, Jeongin still had yet to find many humans that didn’t treat him with disgust or disdain when they realized what he was. He had a few close friends who were humans, and they all met through attending the same university, but that was it.
He couldn’t say it wasn’t for lack of trying though…because it was. Jeongin didn’t really let himself get close to people. His other friends always encouraged him to go out with them to parties or other social events and he declined nearly every time, only indulging in their wishes every so often even though nothing would come of it.
And yet, he still chose to attend this ball every year.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. I know how to handle myself.” He fastened his watch around his wrist before he glanced at his friend, still seated on the couch and radiating an aura of worry.
Jisung honestly looked a little worse for wear. He was a younger vampire than Jeongin by a number of years, so the lack of feeding was taking a larger toll on him, and it was evident. The veins in his neck were standing out even more prominently against his pale skin, which was usually a more natural shade when he was fed well.
That was an unfortunate part of being the supernatural beings that they were: getting off a feeding schedule could really mess them up.
This was why Jisung, yet again, tried to dissuade Jeongin from attending the party tonight. He even threw out the ‘I’m your best friend and you never go out anywhere with me so why would you go by yourself instead’ card, but to no avail. Jeongin was determined to go tonight, and that’s exactly what he did.
Which brought him to now, where he leaned against one of the ballroom balcony railings and quietly observed the sea of partygoers in front of him. The scents of humans blended in with that of the other vampires, and it was balanced enough to let him keep his cool.
Everything was going swimmingly until someone drifted into his line of sight.
That was the first time Jeongin saw you.
His eyes lingered on you for far longer than necessary before he turned away to look out at the sky instead. He could tell you were a human just by your appearance, but you seemed way too calm to be in this type of setting. Almost as if you were completely unbothered by the presence of vampires altogether.
When he sensed eyes on him, he turned back around, only to see that you – who he’d been staring at a few moments prior – were now looking his way.
Something about you drew him in, and before he could fully comprehend what was happening, his legs were moving of their own accord, making their way across the ballroom to the punch table where you stood. Before he could reach you, he noticed that you were occupied with your phone, so he waited another moment to address you.
“Pardon me, do you mind if I stand right here?”
He worried that maybe he surprised you by the way you nearly jumped at his voice, but you turned slowly to acknowledge him. You nodded wordlessly, moving to the side.
Jeongin smiled. “Thank you. How is the punch by the way? Judging by your empty glass, you seemed to enjoy it.”
So far, you hadn’t made any move to respond or walk away, which he took as a good sign that he wasn’t scaring you off.
It happened enough in the past to leave him forever cautious when approaching new people.
Jeongin decided to try the punch himself while he waited. He raised his glass to his lips, enjoying the way the cool liquid soothed his parched throat if only for a moment. There was something else he craved to quench the thirst that was overtaking him, but he wouldn’t find that here. Not in the way he preferred, anyway.
He caught on to you observing him while he drank. Jeongin took note of all your reactions; due to his perceptive nature, it was a habit of his.
Finally, you graced him with your voice. “Uh, yeah, the punch is pretty good! I’m actually thinking about getting a second glass so um–”
“Oh, allow me since I’m already here,” Jeongin responded politely, picking up your glass to refill it, all the while hoping he wasn’t overstepping any boundaries. He raised his glass once yours was safely seated on the table beside the punch bowl again. It looked like he wanted to make a toast-
But to what was he toasting, exactly? Him meeting a human who didn’t run away screaming in fear after meeting him for the first time in a number of years?
He didn’t know, but his glass was already in the air, so he went through with it.
Almost hesitantly, you raised your glass to clink it against his, and your fingers touched for the briefest of moments.
It was such a delicate touch, but it was enough.
Unfortunately, something made you spill your drink, and without thinking Jeongin produced a clean napkin from his blazer pocket. You smiled at him then for the first time, and he found the sight to be enchanting.
However, that could have been attributed to the fact that your presence was overwhelming all of his senses since he wasn’t in the best of shape. His thirst made his throat feel like it was scorching and being this close to you didn’t necessarily help him in the slightest.
But he endured it, because the idea of leaving somehow seemed worse in his mind.
“Careful there. You may enjoy the punch but that doesn’t mean you have to wear it,” Jeongin teased, despite neither of you knowing the other’s name. He felt comfortable around someone new for the first time in a very long time.
It was such a pleasant feeling.
“Thank you,” you stuttered as you wiped off your hand. Jeongin took a moment to really look at you since you were preoccupied, noticing small details. The way your brows knitted together as you cleaned your hand, the way your lips pursed when the napkin was stained red-
He didn’t want to stare too long, for fear of being rude, so he opted instead to try for an introduction this time.
“We haven’t been properly introduced yet. My name is Jeongin. What’s yours?”
You responded with your own name, looking a bit shy as you did. He found that to be cute.
“You have such a lovely name. It’s very nice to meet you.” Jeongin held out his hand for you, taking a chance. Either you would take his or leave him be. And either way it’d be fine, but it was obvious there was an option he was hoping you’d choose.
You placed your hand on top of his, much to his surprise. He lifted it tenderly, placing a kiss on the back of your palm. It was a greeting gesture he’d always found interesting, despite it happening much more frequently in a time long before he was born.
Admittedly not his best idea, since all instincts were telling him to bite down, but he composed himself.
Your skin felt much warmer than his, as was to be expected. It was certainly a nice contrast to his own; pale and cold, certainly a dead giveaway that he was a vampire.
This was the first time Jeongin wondered just how much you knew about vampires, if you knew anything at all.
Jeongin’s gaze met yours, and he was entranced by the softness he found in your eyes. You were looking at him like he wasn’t some deadly creature, looking at him like maybe, just maybe he was someone you wouldn’t mind getting to know.
He had to look away.
Jeongin scanned the ballroom then, finding many familiar faces and wondering if it would be safe to keep you in this general vicinity swarming with other vampires. It particularly worried him if any were in his state and overtaken by bloodlust.
But what did he know? Maybe you came here specifically looking for a vampire to feed from you.
However, based on your gentle nature you’d displayed so far, Jeongin didn’t think that was very likely, even if your overt calmness in this setting confused him.
He’d try to keep you by his side, at least while you were here, since it didn’t look like you had anyone else you were accompanied by-
The thought hit him then that he had forgotten to even ask in the first place in his haste to meet you.
“Are you expecting anyone?” His eyes still flitted about the room, and while he waited on your answer, he surveyed the same area where you’d seen him before he walked up to you initially.
“Well, my friend was supposed to meet me here, but they can’t make it so – no, it’s just me tonight.”
Jeongin couldn’t help the small smile that stretched across his face. He wasn’t happy that your friend couldn’t attend, of course, but the idea of spending more time with you put him in good spirits.
“If that’s the case, would you do me the honor of being my company tonight? I don’t really know anyone here myself, aside from you now, and I’d love to spend more time with you if you’d like to.”
Before Jeongin finished talking, you had already given him your answer in the way of an eager nod. He laughed at your enthusiasm, and you graced him with another warm smile.
He didn’t have much time to appreciate it since other partygoers decided to fill in the open space surrounding the punch bowl. So as not to risk losing you somewhere in the crowd, he offered you his hand, which you grasped within yours immediately.
“We should probably find somewhere else to go. I know a good spot that’s quiet and not so crowded.”
Jeongin’s main goal was to get you into a safer part of the ballroom; he wasn’t fond of you being closed in by a circle of others who might potentially hurt you. Before he pulled you along, he gave you a look to make sure you’d be alright with the idea, and when you nodded your agreement, he began walking to the area he’d seen earlier.
He released your hand once you both reached the balcony. Jeongin angled his body where he could still face you and be alert to what was happening inside, leaving him leaning on the railing behind him.
“So, what brings you to the Grandeur Ball? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before, and I’ve been attending for a few years now,” Jeongin pinned you with a gaze that was full of intrigue. He was looking at you like no other person in the ballroom existed outside of the two of you-
-and for now, that’s the mindset he adopted while he focused on you.
“Well, my friend has always wanted to go and they somehow managed to get 2 invitations. I really only came here for them, it wasn’t really something I was itching to do, but…”
Jeongin noticed your hesitation to finish your sentence, so he turned to face you and prompted you to continue. “But?”
Your eyes drifted to the side to stare into his own, and it muddled his thoughts for only a moment. “It’s turning out to be not so bad of an experience.”
He glanced back inside of the ballroom then, enjoying the serenity of the quiet that surrounded the two of you outside. You cleared your throat to get his attention once more, and it worked without fail.
“So, you say you’ve been coming here for some number of years now?”
Your interest surprised Jeongin, and he was happy to answer your question.  
“Yes, I’d say the last 5 years or so I’ve been attending here.”
He continued once he saw your bewilderment at his answer.  “Is something wrong?”
“No, it’s fine, it’s just,” you stopped for a moment. “If you’ve been coming here for 5 years then…how old are you?”
Jeongin tried smiling at your question, but it fell just short of the mark. He’d anticipated this question eventually, but he’d hoped it wouldn’t happen so soon.
“Well, how old do you think I am?" Jeongin repositioned himself to lean against the railing with one arm now, attempting to appear as nonchalant as possible.
You seemed taken aback by his returning of your question with one of his own. “You mean, you want me to guess your age based on your appearance?”
“Yes.”
All of your attention was fully focused on Jeongin now as you looked him over. He smiled under your scrutiny, not missing the way you stumbled a bit as you got closer.
You stopped in your tracks just outside of the perimeter of what some people would describe as invasive, and Jeongin was very grateful for that.
On the one hand, he didn’t mind being this close since the more he got to know you, the more he enjoyed your presence.
On the other hand…the closer you got, the more he was reminded of his ravenous thirst.
He figured it was in both of your best interests for you to maintain a safe distance.
Your soft expression as you continued to observe him made his smile widen. It was a genuine reaction, as it pleased him to see you weren’t scared or disgusted by him, despite not knowing his secret yet.
A secret he would still very much like to keep hidden for now, but at this rate he knew it was bound to slip out at some point.
Jeongin was pulled out of his thoughts and back into the present when you stepped back, noticing immediately the slight blush that had covered your face.
“You look young, so I’d say you’re…22?”
“Sure.” Jeongin smirked, trying to keep up his façade of being indifferent.
“Okay, well…if you’re 22 then you’ve been coming here since you were 17?”
“Sure,” he stated once more, tone full of amusement.
However, you seemed less than amused and he started re-thinking his approach to this situation.
“That doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, Jeongin. Why would a teenager come to a ball like this?” You searched his eyes as if they held the answer, and his easy-going attitude shifted to one of concern.
“Hey, what’s wrong? I’m just teasing you.” Before putting too much thought into it, Jeongin patted your arm gently to try and reign in the conversation once more and restore the previous atmosphere. When you smiled, he internally sighed with relief.
“Since you’re curious, I am older than 22. Even if I don’t look like it.” When he spoke, he removed his hand and placed it by his side, voice coming out much quieter now.
“That makes sense, you do look young. How much older would you be?”
“Guess,” Jeongin was still looking at the sky as he answered, wondering for a moment if you liked stargazing-
“Oh no, we’re not doing this again.” Your response made him laugh, pulling his focus to you again.
“Okay, okay. Let’s just say I’m…a bit older.”
“That’s not fair, though, a bit can mean lots of things. It can mean a little bit, it can mean a lot…”
“Well, maybe we can make this easier: how old are you?” Jeongin wanted to shift some of the attention off of him, even if it was only briefly. Besides, he’d get to learn more about you this way.
“I’m 22. Honestly.” Your teasing tone lifted his spirits.
“Alright, well since you answered truthfully, I’ll tell you.” He tried to hide the way his face fell, but he wasn’t sure how successful he managed to be.
“Truthfully, my age is 23. But it gets a bit complicated.” Jeongin was facing the ballroom again, almost as if staring into the crowd would provide him with a way to get out of this predicament he was now facing.
How much should he tell you? How far did he need to let this go?
Had you already picked up on all the signs and he just didn’t notice yet? His perception was weaker than normal, due to the lack of feeding. Going much longer without it could make him weaker overall, sapping his strength and slowing him down, and he didn’t like to put himself in situations like that due to past experiences-
“What do you mean by complicated?” You hadn’t spoken up immediately, but now that you did, Jeongin’s mind was racing as he tried to find out how to answer your question.
“It’s…I just…I’m not sure how to word it.” Jeongin nervously sifted his hand through his hair as he glanced around the balcony. His eyes stopped when they landed on a bench that was tucked away behind one of the ballroom walls. He felt more at ease if he could speak to you about this away from prying eyes and listening ears.
Jeongin took your hand in his, without any objection from you, and he walked the both of you over to sit on the bench. In this space, it seemed like you were the only two in the world, isolated from all others and free to speak as you wished. He looked you in the eyes once you both were seated.
He suddenly wasn’t sure how good of an idea this was anymore-
“Jeongin, it’s okay, you can tell me what it is.” Your soothing voice may have usually been enough to calm the franticness he was feeling, but for now it did the opposite.
Jeongin had plenty of nervous habits, and they worsened in times like these where he wasn’t in his top shape. Right now, he exhibited multiple at once: leg bouncing wildly, his hand sifting through his hair once more.
He felt a warmth wrap around his hand on his knee that was moving, and when he looked up, he saw you had taken his hand in your own. The action was enough to get him to stop moving as erratically, even though his nervousness increased tenfold at your close proximity.
“Jeongin, what is so difficult for you to tell me?”
Afraid to look into your eyes, Jeongin chose to look at the ground instead.
“Is it…is it because you feel like you can’t trust me?”
At this, he looked up again, almost panicking at how sad you sounded.
Honestly, Jeongin did feel like you were someone he could trust. And as crazy as it was for him to admit such a thing, he felt compelled to.
“No, that’s not the reason at all.” He offered you what he hoped was a convincing smile. “I do feel like I can trust you, despite only knowing you a short time. You’ve shown me more kindness that anyone in this town has in a long time, and that’s why I’m afraid…”
Jeongin had a few friends that were humans, but they had been friends for years now, and he knew he could rely on them for anything, no matter what. Every other human he’d met since, however-
He’d had less than favorable interactions with them.
“Then if you feel like you can trust me, why are you afraid to tell me?”
Jeongin returned your gaze again, and he saw sincerity hiding behind your eyes. “Because I’m afraid you’ll leave when I do.”
His voice was quiet, so much so that he wasn’t sure if you heard him.
But then you wrapped both of your hands around his that you’d been holding.
“Jeongin. I won’t leave. I promise.”
He believed you. Was it odd for him to do so when he only knew you such a short amount of time? Yes.
Did he anyway, against his better judgment? He did.
Jeongin gulped, suddenly feeling somewhat vulnerable, which was new for him. Honestly, this entire night had been something new for him.
“Alright, well…where to start, uh…”
“You can explain what you mean by your age is complicated.”
Jeongin appreciated your input, as it gave him some footing to work with. “Yeah, that. What I mean by complicated is by all accounts I am 23, but I’m also not 23.”
When he was done trying to explain, he searched your face for any hint of confusion or bewilderment. Instead, your countenance didn’t change at all.
“Okay, so…you’re a vampire?”
Jeongin’s entire body seized up. His heartbeat increased in speed, an unusual feeling as it typically would beat very slowly, almost at a standstill pace.
You took away the burden of him having to tell you outright – but he didn’t know if that was a good thing or if it should scare him.
“How did you–,” Jeongin sputtered as he searched your face for any of the normal reactions: fright, disgust, even hatred.
To his surprise, you looked the calmest he’d seen you yet.
“It only makes sense. You’re 23 but also not 23. Your entire aura is ethereal and yeah that can be achieved as a human but it’s less likely, at least in this town. Your skin feels like ice and that’s also something that can be normal but typically isn’t.”
You explained your reasoning in a calm tone, and all Jeongin could do was stare. It also wasn’t lost on him that you’d just described his aura as ‘ethereal’ but he had bigger things to focus on.
“So…you caught on to this pretty early, huh?”
You laughter was a welcome sound. “No, I just now caught it. I had my suspicions but the age thing really confirmed it for me.”
“Well, I haven’t told you whether it was true or not yet.” Jeongin attempted to hold his ground, wondering if he could still keep up this façade despite the fact that your deductions – as well as the veins still standing out on his neck – made for convincing arguments.
“You didn’t have to, your actions just now gave it away. Actions speak louder than words sometimes, right?”
Well damn, you had him there.
Jeongin ran a hand down his face, groaning as he finally gave in. “I guess you’re right. So, are you scared?”
His turned his body to face you, eager to see what your answer would be. From the first moment he saw you, your lack of hesitation to be in an area swarming with vampires had intrigued him.
And now that he knew you weren’t bothered by him being a creature of the night, he was slightly more confident.
“Nope. Not scared a bit.”
Your instant answer interested him even further, making him smile.
“Really? You’re not scared at all?”
He was challenging you now, as he moved to inch closer to you. Jeongin remained cool and collected at almost all times, being the more mature one in his close friend group. But living with Jisung over the years had definitely taught him to come out of his shell and have fun every once in a while, and right now, he felt like indulging in this little game with you.
Jeongin slid closer to you. You moved your hands to rest on your lap, not letting go of his.
“No. You don’t scare me, Jeongin.”
Your reluctance to back down made Jeongin a little wary, but he was determined to keep up this front as long as he could.
Besides, it was all in good fun, right?
Jeongin moved once again, sliding along the bench until his face wasn’t far away from yours.
His heartbeat was still racing quicker than he was used to, and his throat felt like it was burning as the distance between the two of you decreased.
“You’re face to face with a vampire and you’re telling me you’re not the least bit afraid?” He tilted his head, adding a tone to his voice that he hoped sounded confident.
He didn’t want to betray the fact that he was struggling now, unsure if this was something he needed to stop before it got too far-
Your next statement nearly knocked the breath out of him:
“You could bite me right now and I still wouldn’t be afraid.”
Jeongin’s brain was starting to scream at him that this needed to stop. Well, that’s what the logical part of his brain was telling him.
The other parts of his brain overwhelmed by curiosity simply said ‘keep going, keep playing this game, see what will happen.’ He moved closer still.
“That’s a dangerous thing to tell a vampire. What would you do if I took you up on that offer, hm?”
This wasn’t like him. Jeongin was still trying to make a good first impression as a vampire, but his mind was clouded with how badly he wanted to feed, and you were so close now-
He wouldn’t let this desire overcome him. This was his first real chance in years at a friendship with another human, and he’d be damned if he let thirst ruin that for him.
If everything that happened remained in this realm of playful joking, he could handle it. The distance he maintained was still enough that he could control the urge to close that gap.
Jeongin would soon find out, however, that you were full of surprises.
What he absolutely did not expect you to do was bare your neck for him. The delicate turn of your head, the angle of your jaw as you tilted it upwards-
-it was all so simple, yet enough to drive him insane in that moment.
All instincts were yelling at him to pounce and feed from you, and he had to physically fight against the pull he felt in his limbs, urging him to move.
He’d never fed from a human before – and it wasn’t because he never had the chance, it just wasn’t something he wanted to do. Something about it was so…intimate, but the idea also scared him because of the self-control something like that would take.
He let out what sounded like a gasp, but it was more from the exertion of having to maintain his composure and push himself away from you, which was the complete opposite of every thought that was flooding his mind.
When he was seated safely – or as safe a distance as he could be – on the other side of the bench, he forced himself to take a deep breath.
It was a good idea, because it could help to calm him. But it was also a bad idea because it allowed your scent to overwhelm him, now that he’d had the fleeting thought of what it would be like to feed from you.
He knew he’d never be able to forgive himself for that if he did, even if you had given consent for it. And the fact that the thought even crossed his mind, even in his current state-
It absolutely terrified him.
“Don’t,” Jeongin warned you as he inhaled deeply once more in a poor attempt to pull himself together. “Don’t do that. That’s not a smart move.” He no longer sounded playful, and his words were instead shrouded with an aura of authority.
He needed you to comprehend how serious he was, how serious this entire predicament was.
“I was just joking,” you replied, tone seemingly defensive.
“I get that but still, you can’t just do that. What if it had been some other vampire? You’re out here, away from everyone else, and others are way more ruthless than me. That could’ve ended really badly under different circumstances.”
Jeongin didn’t want to scold you; he knew you were an adult, capable of making your own decisions and you appeared to not be reckless in your way of thinking. Even still, he wanted you to understand the severity of your actions and how the night could’ve been progressing much differently now had he not-
You let go of his hand while he was wrapped up in his thoughts and he instantly switched his approach.
“Hey, no, it’s okay, I’m not mad or anything. I’m just…that worries me a little that you’re so willing.” Your hands were still placed on top of your lap, and he reached out to pat them in hopes that it might soften your worried expression.
His own heart was still racing, but he’d managed to collect his thoughts and focus on you and how he could make this better. Rational thinking Jeongin was back, and he’d never been more grateful for it.
“I’m sorry,” you looked down as you apologized, prompting Jeongin to squeeze your hands this time. You looked up at that and his smile was immediate.
“You don’t have to be. Just know that it’s something you probably shouldn’t do unless you’re…you know, actually wanting to get bit or something.”
“Who said I didn’t want to,” you teased him as you smiled back. Jeongin laughed as he pulled you both into a standing position.
“What, are you saying you actually wanted me to bite you?” His grin widened while he awaited your answer, a bit of his own playfulness returning. It was easier to be this way as the urge to feed from you subsided – it didn’t completely, but it did enough, and that was all he needed for now.
You graced him with a shrug of nonchalance. “I’m just saying.”
Jeongin shook his head as he chuckled. He liked this side of you. Here you were, a human who was unbothered by the circumstance of being alone with a vampire you just met. The way you didn’t run away or regard him with disdain meant more to him than he could express.
And, considering what had just transpired moments earlier, the fact that you were still this close to him without it being a problem gave him the impression that maybe you viewed him as someone you could be safe around.
Safe or not, though, Jeongin liked to give back what he got when it came to teasing (courtesy of Jisung), so he had no qualms about what he did next. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, careful to pay as little attention as possible to the close proximity of your neck.
“If only you knew how hard I bite.”
His tone from earlier during your ‘moment’ together was back, and he knew it affected you by the intake of breath he heard. He smiled as he leaned back and reverted to his usual demeanor.
Jeongin walked back to the door leading into the ballroom, stifling his laughter at how you were still trying to regain your own composure from the stunt he’d just pulled.
It looked like you both got the upper hand over the other at least once tonight.
“I love this song that’s playing now, would you care to join me for a dance?” Your hand was still enveloped by his as he waited for your response.
You finally nodded. “I don’t really know how to dance but I can try.”
Jeongin was eager to get the two of you back inside upon hearing that, ecstatic that he’d be able to dance with you since it was something he rather enjoyed (and not many people knew about it).
“I’ll teach, you don’t worry. It’ll be fun!”
He placed one hand on your waist as he held your other hand up in the air and spun you around to the rhythm. All other commotion outside of the small circle you both were dancing in was tuned out by Jeongin.
You got closer of your own accord, and it took Jeongin off guard at first, but he relaxed into it after a few seconds. He wouldn’t say it was getting easier to be this close to you, but he had a better handle on himself the longer the night went on.
Even so, part of him wished he could’ve met you when he was in a more normal state – as normal as a vampire could get, anyway – as opposed to this creature filled with bloodlust.
As this thought occurred to him, another followed shortly after: would he ever get the chance to see you when he was more himself? Would he be able to ever see you again at all?
He didn’t have much time to ponder on it before he felt you squeeze his hand for the first time since you started dancing.
“Hey, what’s wrong? You started squeezing my hand.” Jeongin leaned back so he could observe you and make sure you weren’t hurt or anything.
“Sorry, I’m just…really glad we met tonight.” You gave him a barely-there smile and he immediately knew it wasn’t genuine.
“I am, too. But it seems like something else is troubling you.”
Jeongin waited patiently, now only swaying the two of you back and forth while you took your time formulating a response.
You let out a defeated sounding sigh. “What happens after tonight? When we go our separate ways, what happens then?”
“Hm,” a hum escaped Jeongin as he thought about it. “That is the question, isn’t it?” He pulled you in close again, and it wasn’t lost on him how you’d both been thinking the same thing.
Clearly, at least as far as he could tell, you also wanted to see him again. And if that was the case, he wasn’t about to miss out on that opportunity.
“Honestly, I kinda figured that we would maybe hang out sometime after all this.” Jeongin had answered confidently, hoping he wouldn’t seem overly eager and nervous about what you would say.
He realized he had nothing to worry about when your head jerked upward to look at him at a speed that was impressive, making him laugh.
“Are you serious?” Your eyes were shining with excitement that he was sure reflected in his own as he laughed once more.
“Of course. I like spending time with you. You’re fun to be around and you also, well, you know…” Jeongin trailed off as he wondered how to word his thoughts.
“I also what?”
“You see me for who I am and that doesn’t deter you at all. You’re one of the only people I’ve ever met who hasn’t wanted to run away once they knew the truth. That’s rare to find these days, even in a place like this where we’re more or less welcomed.”
He stopped for a moment to look down at you again, entranced by the soft look in your eyes.
“I’d like to hold on to that, as long as I can.” He said his last words quietly, but he knew you heard him because of your smile that followed.
And this time, the smile was authentic.
“Well, I guess you’re stuck with me now as a friend.”
Jeongin laughed at your comment, finding it amusing how that was your reaction after everything he’d just said to you. He preferred it to anything else, honestly.
“I guess you’re right.” A devious thought overtook him, and he angled his head so he was speaking by your ear again, barely above a whisper. “Just don’t go around asking me to bite you all the time and I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
The small gasp you let out was met with instant laughter.
You pouted as you tried to do a convincing job of looking perturbed. “That’s not funny.”
Jeongin saw through your act.
“It’s not, but it’s so easy to get a rise out of you.” Smiling around you was almost effortless, Jeongin realized, as he could feel them forming on his face more and more frequently as the night continued.
“That may be, but also know that I’m willing to take you up on a challenge.”
“Oh, believe me, I know. I figured that out earlier, in fact, I think you nearly gave me a heart attack. My heart hasn’t beat that fast in I don’t know how long.” Jeongin thought back to that moment on the bench and it was true, his heartbeat had surprised him since it was such a foreign feeling now.
But that changed tonight and was just one of the signs to Jeongin that there might be more to you than meets the eye.
You giggled at his joke before you laid your head on his shoulder and continued dancing at your own pace. The two of you stayed that way for a while, just enjoying each other’s company.
Some unknown amount of time passed – minutes? Hours? – before Jeongin pulled back to address you.
“How long were you planning on staying?”
“Honestly? I’m not sure, it depended on how long my friend was wanting to stay but since they couldn’t make it – I’m actually fine with leaving whenever.”
Jeongin appreciated your honesty. “Great, I was kinda hoping to leave soon as well.”
“Oh? Do you have big plans after this?”
He chuckled at your teasing tone. “Yeah, it involves going home and chilling out. Social events actually tire me out sometimes, not sure why, though.”
As he started paying more attention to everyone still dancing in the ballroom, he was becoming increasingly aware of how very few humans were still there. There was an overbearing amount of vampires still standing around, and Jeongin would have to be naïve to deny that he’d seen a few looking your way once or twice.
He figured the best thing to do would be to lead you out safely himself. Sure, you could probably take care of yourself if trouble arose, but even if you did manage to escape from a bloodthirsty patron, there wasn’t anything to say that more wouldn’t follow.
“Well if you’re ready, we can leave at any time.” He said it without thinking, gently pulling you along behind him as he carefully surveyed the area he was leading you through.
“What do you mean by ‘we?’”
Jeongin stopped walking as he realized how what he just said sounded. If he’d had the ability to, he was sure he would’ve been flushed with embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t insinuating anything, I just figured that – I could at least walk you outside and make sure you got to your ride safely.”
“Why, you worried about the people here?”
He smirked when he understood that you were still taking things lightly, even if he himself wasn’t necessarily viewing the situation in the same light.
“If you must know, yes I’m worried about the other people here. Do you know how many vampires are in attendance right now?”
He watched as you finally looked around from one edge of the ballroom to the other. He noticed that your eyes widened when you saw how many people were still at the party.
“No, but do you know how many are here right now?” You finally gave him your answer.
“Actually yeah, I know just about every vampire here. There’s quite a few.” Another glance around the room confirmed this for him, and he even saw a few vampires that he wouldn’t trust to be around anyone, especially not you. “So I’d be a little worried about you leaving alone.”
“Oh.” Your response was pretty much what he expected, and he could almost see the lightbulb going off above your head as it dawned on you the possible peril of a situation where you left alone.
“Ready to go?” Jeongin was relieved when you linked your arm with his own as he held it out to you.
As you both walked through the ballroom to leave, he couldn’t help but notice there was a shift in your demeanor.
He stopped outside of the front doors and moved his arm away from yours so he could turn to get a better look at you. “What’s up? You seem pensive.”
You smiled and the sight again was something he was so grateful to see.
He didn’t think he could get tired of it, if he was being honest-
“It’s nothing, I’m just glad I decided to actually come here tonight. I didn’t expect to really have a good time, especially with my friend not showing up. I had some good company in their absence, though.”
Your response made his lips curve upward, and the two of you continued your journey.
“I had a really good time, too. I was expecting the same old loud people dancing and drinking kind of environment, but I had a peaceful, more quiet night instead. Can’t imagine why that is…” Jeongin jokingly tapped a finger to his chin to seem like he was trying to figure out the answer and you rewarded him with a chuckle.
“I don’t have a clue, maybe you had good company, too.”
‘You have no idea how true that statement is,’ Jeongin thought to himself before answering.
“I had the best company.”
You were brushing up against each other due to your closeness, arms touching as you both stood in front of the gate leading off the property. As you left, Jeongin started looking around, wondering when you might point out which car you drove.
When you didn’t say anything, he finally decided to just ask instead. “So, where’s your car?”
The laughter you graced him with sounded off. “Ha, well, about that…”
“Did you not drive here?” He frowned as he pondered the idea of you having walked to the party by yourself.
No way he was letting you walk back by yourself, not if he had anything to say about it.
“I actually didn’t. One of my roommates dropped me off. It was under the pretense that my other friend would take us both home but as you can see–,” you waved your hands around vaguely to put emphasis on the fact that no one was around, and Jeongin got the memo immediately.
“They’re nowhere to be found,” he finished your sentence, his voice getting softer as he trailed off. “Is your roommate able to pick you up?”
It was beginning to look more and more like your situation for returning home was unsafe and it bothered him immensely. He still wanted to blame his heightened emotions on his thirst, but even then he wasn’t sure if he could contribute it all to that.
The bottom line was Jeongin wanted to protect you. Yes, he just met you and yes, he may never see you again. But, for the time he got to spend with you, he would make sure you were out of harm’s way.
You answered him and pulled his attention away from his thoughts. “No, they went home for the weekend. I was just going to walk back, it’s not that far–”
Jeongin already had his phone in his hands before you finished speaking, pulling up a maps app. “Where do you live?”
“Um…”
He could sense your apprehension at his question before he even heard your response, and the action had him backpedaling. “Wait that sounded weird, sorry I just – would you let me take you home?”
He saw you fighting back a smile at his words a mere second before they registered in his brain.
Jeongin groaned and dragged a hand down his face; he wasn’t trying to proposition you for anything (despite how what he just said sounded), but he was doing a poor job at expressing his true intentions thus far.
So, he tried again.
“That also sounds bad, what I mean is can I give you a ride? I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to walk back by yourself.”
He sighed when you cracked a full smile.
“Aw, are you that worried about me?” You were messing with him again, he knew that, but he gave you a look anyway to make sure you knew he was serious.
“To be blunt: yes. I’d much rather drive you back and make sure you get home safe.”
“That’s really sweet of you.” He could hear the smile in your voice.
He felt his heartbeat quicken again - not near as fast as it had earlier that night, but enough of a difference to tell.
“What are friends for, right?” He blurted out the first thing he could think of while he was still occupied with his phone. His heartbeat finally returned to normal a second before you answered him.
“Right…well I don’t live far. I stay in the apartments outside my university.”
Jeongin looked up at you then. “Wait, is it the university that’s only about 4 blocks from here?”
“That’s the one.”
It looked like he wouldn’t be needing his phone after all.
“Wow, what a coincidence, I attend there as well.”
Now this surprised him. You’d been around this whole time, and he’d never seen you before? Not even once?
Of course, it was entirely possible he had seen you, but just didn’t pay much attention.
He was paying less and less attention to humans nowadays-
“You do? I wonder why I’ve never seen you around…”
It appeared you were thinking the same thing he was. That wasn’t the first time that night you’d both been on a similar wavelength.
Jeongin liked that.
“I don’t tend to stand out, we’ve probably crossed paths, but I blended in with the crowd well or something. Either way, though, I know where the apartments are and I’d be happy to give you a ride if you want.”
He hoped you’d say yes because otherwise he was kinda out of options at this rate-
His biggest concern right now was he didn’t want you to think that he was just trying to get you alone and act on what could’ve happened back on the balcony.
You didn’t seem guarded or nervous around him, which he appreciated, but who’s to say you weren’t keeping up a rouse?
A simple ride home, that’s all he was offering.
“Yeah, that’s fine. I’d actually appreciate that very much.” The way your tone was laced with honesty cause him to break out into a grin.
“Great! My car’s over here.”
He didn’t move to link your arms again after a brief moment of scanning the area to make sure no one was within a distance to try anything. Instead, he started walking toward his car, confident you would follow and proven right by the sound of your footsteps behind him.
Before opening his own door, Jeongin opened the passenger door for you. Once you were seated inside the car, he got in and started it up, a comfortable silence settling over the two of you for a moment.
“So, what are you studying at the university?” He was looking behind him to back out of the spot the car had been parked in, one hand on the steering wheel and the other braced against the top of your seat.
You answered him as he was starting to drive away, Jeongin looking through the back window as the ballroom disappeared.
“I’m a studio art major. My hope is that when I graduate, I can actually make a career out of doing what I love, which is sculpting.”
Art hadn’t been what he expected to hear...but then again, he didn’t know what he expected.
“Sculpting, huh? That’s interesting.”
He just barely caught you nodding out of the corner of his eye before you responded.
“It’s been a passion of mine for years. I’m just hoping I can make a career out of it.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure out a way,” Jeongin encouraged you, and he meant every word.
“What about you? What do you study?”
He had just halted the car to a stop at a red light, offering him a few seconds to look at as he spoke. “I’m a music major.”
“Oh, wow. It really is a wonder that we’ve never bumped into each other then, since music and art can be closely related.”
Jeongin couldn’t agree more. He mulled it over while he carded a hand through his hair, carefully gripping the steering wheel with the other.
“What’s your focus in music?”
Jeongin hummed to himself as he thought about how to answer.
“My main focus is instruments as I play the piano. I also like to sing too, though,” he added quietly as the car started moving again once the light turned green.
“What year are you now?” Jeongin recognized the small area he lived in as he turned, and he wondered briefly how close your apartments might be to each other, if at all.
There were quite a few complexes in the district, but the possibility was always there, right?
“I’m a senior. You?”
“Same as you,” Jeongin answered. It was even more of a mystery now how the two of you had never had a single class together, being in the same year.
Neither one of you spoke again until Jeongin made another turn into the area where the apartment buildings started.
“Which complex do you live in?” Jeongin figured he’d be passing by his own apartment soon, and he wondered for the first time since he left how Jisung might be holding up.
It was hard to not worry about his younger friend, seeing as he had a much harder time with his thirst.
“I actually live in the one a few buildings down.”
“Well I’ll go slow and you just let me know when to stop, okay? Jeongin slowed the car, going a few miles under the speed limit now as to hopefully not miss your stop.
“Okay.” It was quiet in the car again until you alerted him that your building was approaching. “It’s the one here, on the right.”
Thankfully there was a stop sign because Jeongin had to look at you after that.
There was no way-
“You mean these ones here?”
You gave him a hesitant nod. “Yeah…is that a problem or–”
Jeongin couldn’t help the laughter that spilled from him. What you just told him was the furthest thing from a problem that he could think of in the moment.
“No, not at all! It’s just funny to me.”
He shut off the car shortly after when he pulled into a parking space - a familiar one for him, but of course you didn’t know that.
“Why is it funny?”
Jeongin leaned back against his headrest before he offered you a smile. “It’s funny because I live in the complex right across from you.”
The look on your face as the realization dawned on you made him laugh again.
“Talk about irony, huh?”
“Yeah, definitely ironic.”
Jeongin started to wonder then if maybe you weren’t as enthused about this revelation as he was since you still looked thoroughly confused. He tried to lighten the conversation.
“Look on the bright side: we can definitely hang out more often now.” His smile fell a little as he quickly added “That is, if you want to of course–”
“I do.” Your hurry to answer quelled his worry then and he was happy to hear that you were still interested in his company.
“Speaking of hanging out, we should probably exchange numbers then. So that way we can work out plans and stuff.”
“Great idea.” Jeongin was a little surprised he hadn’t been the first to think of that, but he wasn’t in his normal state of mind either. He handed you his phone so you could enter your number, and you did the same with your phone.
Once the number swapping was over, Jeongin let out a sigh. “I guess I should get going then. I don’t usually stay out this late so my roommate’s probably wondering where I’m at.”
As much as he hated leaving - he really wanted to spend more time with you - he knew Jisung would probably be needing some company right about now so as to not focus on the overwhelming thirst that was currently sapping all his energy.
There was also the fact that Jeongin realized once again how close the two of you were inside the still car, and your presence was bringing out his own thirst once more.
Thankfully (but also regretfully) you opened your door before his situation got worse.
“Yeah, of course,” you answered him as you exited the car. You looked behind you to see him inside again and he lowered his head so he had a better view of you.
The moonlight was illuminating you and Jeongin truly found the sight to be so pretty.
An idea popped into his head and his mouth started moving faster than his brain before he talked himself out of it.
“Oh, and if, for whatever reason, you ever need to find me my apartment number is 208 in the complex here.”
For good measure, he pointed to his complex, hand dropping slightly for a moment once he saw your eyes drift in the direction he pointed.
He couldn’t think of a situation where you needed to know where he lived, but he figured maybe if you were in the neighborhood and just happened to walk by, you could drop in for a moment-
“Got it.”
Your sincere response made him smile, calming his nerves again for who knows how many times that night.
“I really did have a great time tonight. Maybe you should tell your friend thank you for me.” Jeongin joked with you, wanting to hear your laugh once more before the two of you went your separate ways.
You did exactly what he was hoping. “Maybe I will. Goodnight, Jeongin.”
“Goodnight.”
Jeongin watched as you closed the car door and started walking to your apartment. You didn’t look back at him, but his eyes didn’t leave you until you stepped inside and safely shut your door.
When he knew you were safe, he turned the key to ignite the car engine so he could drive to his usual parking spot across the way. Before he moved, he just sat there for a second.
He rested his head against the seat again, looking through the windshield at the stars as they twinkled in the sky.
As he stared at the stars, his fingers drummed absentmindedly against the steering wheel. A radiant smile stretched across his face as he recalled the events from earlier.
For the first time in years, Jeongin felt an emotion he’d thought had been long gone from his life: hope.
⊱──────── ★ ────────⊰
When Jeongin returned home that evening, he was a little surprised to see Jisung still awake, especially considering the state he was in before Jeongin left.
Jisung was sitting cross-legged on their couch, playing a video game. As soon as he heard Jeongin shut the door, the controller was forgotten as it was unceremoniously dropped onto the couch cushion beside him.
“How’d it go?”
Jeongin could see his face now even in the dim light of the room, and he noticed right away something was different.
“It went well,” he shrugged out of his blazer and folded it neatly before placing it on the back of a chair.
“Did anything interesting happen?”
Jeongin smiled the smallest amount. “Yeah.”
If Jisung hadn’t already been paying attention, that certainly would’ve sparked his interest.
“You better tell me all about it-”
“Don’t worry, I will,” Jeongin politely interrupted his friend. “But first – what happened to you?”
Jisung’s eyebrow quirked. “What do you mean?”
“You look miles better than when I left the apartment.”
Jisung laughed at that. “Oh, right. I almost forgot. Seungmin dropped off a late night supply for us like right after you left. I would’ve waited on you, but you know…”
“No worries. Although, if you could tell me where it is, I’d greatly appreciate it.”
“Right! Sorry. Yeah it’s in the kitchen where we usually store it. He even brought extra since we had to wait longer than normal, so I stashed those too as like an emergency supply thing.”
Jeongin chuckled as he went to find what he’d been so desperately craving all night. It took all his willpower not to mindlessly tear one of the bags open, instead opting to open it carefully so he could consume its contents.
As the blood finally entered his system, he could feel his body slowly returning to normal.
However, he couldn’t help the images that flashed through his mind of you offering your neck to him.
In all his years of being a vampire, he’d never encountered something like that, and it scared him more than he’d like to admit.
Once he had fed enough to satisfy his thirst, he walked back out to join Jisung, choosing to sit on the opposite couch.
“Ok, tell me what happened,” Jisung was quick to get to the point, hugging a pillow against his torso as he turned to look at Jeongin with eyes that shone full of curiosity.
The sight made Jeongin smile.
“Well, for starters, I met someone-”
Jisung’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.
“Excuse me, you what now?”
“Met someone. At the party.” Jeongin waited for Jisung to process his words, knowing he’d have more questions that followed.
“How- what- ok, tell me about them. I need the details.”
Jeongin opened his mouth to answer, but Jisung continued.
“Did you approach them or did they approach you?”
“I approached them after I noticed them across the room.”
He heard Jisung let out a small ‘oooh’ under his breath. “How old are they?”
Jeongin thought back to when you were discussing ages earlier. “Younger than me.”
Jisung nodded in understanding. “How many years have they been a vampire?”
Jeongin snickered. “None.”
It took Jisung a second to think about it before he responded “Ohhhh, I got you. So they’re a baby vamp! Cute.”
“Well-”
“How did that go? Did they behave? You remember how I was.” Jisung shuddered as if the very thought displeased him. “Man, those were the days.”
“Yes, I remember very well how chaotic you could be when you were first turned. Although, I wouldn’t necessarily say much has changed in that regard…”
Jisung lightly tossed his pillow at Jeongin and he easily deflected it with another laugh before he continued.
“But they also aren’t a baby vampire either.”
Jisung’s face scrunched up in confusion. “I don’t think I’m following you…”
Jeongin laid the pillow beside him as he waited for Jisung to finally realize what he was implying, smoothing out the fabric until he heard the gasp from the other side of the room.
“Wait. Wait. You mean to tell me you met a human? At this party, where there’s an overwhelming amount of vampires, you fraternized with a human?”
Jeongin placed his hands in his lap, exuding this calm aura that opposed that of the younger vampire. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
The range of emotions that blanketed across Jisung’s face was almost laughable. “How in the world did you manage that?”
Jeongin shrugged. “It wasn’t too difficult,” he fibbed somewhat. Being around you? It was undoubtedly a pleasant experience, Jeongin wouldn’t argue that fact.
But being around you whilst he was suffering through a craving for blood he hadn’t encountered in a long while? That was admittedly much harder.
Jisung scoffed with disbelief as he crossed his arms. “‘It wasn’t too difficult,’ he says,” Jisung mocked Jeongin’s tone, pulling another smirk from the latter. “Ok, sure. I’ll humor you for now. Anything exciting happen during your adventure with this human?”
Jeongin’s smile faltered. “Well…”
Jisung sat up straighter then, now much more eager to listen instead of being annoyed like he’d been a second ago. “Well?”
“There isn’t much to tell, really. We learned about each other, and without me giving too much personal info away, they still somehow managed to figure out I’m a vampire.”
Jisung looked taken aback. “So they knew? And it didn’t bother them?”
Jeongin shook his head. “Nope. Weird, right?”
“Yeah, no kidding. Well, what else happened?”
Of course Jisung would know there was more to the story.
Jeongin took a deep breath. “There was…a moment.”
“Elaborate?”
“I’m getting to that, just give me a second,” Jeongin continued. “We were on the balcony, secluded from everyone else-”
“Oooooh-”
“Let me finish first before you start speculating,” he scolded his younger friend, rolling his eyes as Jisung was now perched at the edge of his seat.
“We were isolated from everyone inside. I had led them to a quieter area so we could discuss things in a calmer setting.” He paused for a moment so he could figure out how to describe exactly what went down. “One thing led to another and before long they sorta, uh-”
Jeongin rubbed the back of his neck.
“What did they do,” Jisung prompted, able to pick up on the fact that Jeongin was nervous, but he still was raring to know regardless. The way his legs bounced excitedly gave that away.
“They – bared their neck for me.”
Jisung nearly fell off the couch, grabbing onto the arm of it at the last minute to steady himself.
“Could you repeat that? It sounded like you said they offered themselves to you-”
“No, you heard it right.”
Jisung’s mouth dropped open and for once in his life, Jeongin saw his friend at a loss for words.
“I can’t believe this,” Jisung started in a soft voice that got louder as he continued, “A human literally presented themselves for you to drink from them, with no qualms about it or anything? Like they were just willing to do it?”
Jeongin nodded, realizing how crazy it sounded and still having trouble believing it himself even though he very well knew it happened. He could still clearly remember how fast his heart had been racing and how hard he had to control himself in that moment.
“Well, did you,” Jisung cleared his throat, “you know-”
“Absolutely not. You know that’s not something I partake in.” Jeongin immediately shut down the question, and Jisung held his hands up in defense.
“Sorry, sorry, just had to ask to sate my curiosity. What did you do then?”
“I had to…keep a level head.”
“Dude, I bet. You’re usually calmer than anyone I know in stressful situations, but like – you hadn’t fed in a while, so I can’t imagine-”
“It certainly isn’t something I wish to repeat, that’s for sure,” Jeongin said with finality. He was almost positive Jisung wanted to know what caused the entire situation, but thankfully he didn’t press on it for now.
Instead, Jisung simply hummed and picked his controller back up. “Well, when you get settled for the night, what do you say we play a few rounds together? We haven’t done that in a long time, it could be a nice way for you to unwind from your…adventure you had tonight.”
Jeongin laughed, already feeling much, much better than he had when he left that night. The blood was doing its job, and he’d have to thank Seungmin for going the extra mile to drop it off this late at night.
As he took out his phone to do just that, he noticed a text from an unknown number. When he realized it was you, he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face as he typed a response.
“Who is that,” Jisung asked as he was looking over Jeongin’s shoulder, making the older boy jump with fright.
He’d been so involved with texting you back that he hadn’t even heard Jisung approach. Jisung had a tendency to be sneakily quiet when he wanted, but Jeongin could always hear him regardless.
Well…he could except for a few seconds earlier.
He turned slightly and was inches away from Jisung’s face, his own expression softening as Jisung looked at him with wide eyes.
Jeongin was very fond of his close friend and roommate, even if he wasn’t big on vocalizing it.
Feelings were hard for Jeongin to discuss with others and had been for a number of years now. The events leading up to that were still something he struggled with talking about, and he wasn’t sure when he’d be able to trust someone enough to talk about it.
Sure, he trusted his dearest friends more than anyone else in the world, but he decided early on that sparing them the pain of his past was just better for everyone in the long run.
This was, in the beginning, very hard for Jisung, since his empathetic nature makes him focus on others’ emotions and fixing any problems he’s able to. Out of their entire friend group, he was the biggest problem solver, always happy to listen and help others through their struggles if there was a way for him to do so.
After years of living together, he’d come to accept that there were just some things Jeongin wasn’t open to talking about. But if the time ever came that he was ready to, Jisung would be there for him however he needed.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Jeongin finally answered the younger’s initial question, jokingly hiding his phone as he responded to your next text that came through.
Jisung huffed as he circled around Jeongin to try and get a glimpse of the phone screen again. “C’mon Innie, don’t start keeping secrets from me now! It’s kinda one of my rights as your bestie, ya know-”
“Who do you think it is?” Jeongin interrupted Jisung’s tangent, focus somewhat muddled as he noticed your next message where you were asking for a picture. He started scrolling through his phone album and paused when he heard Jisung’s small gasp.
“Is it…the human?”
Jeongin laughed. “You’re talking about them as if they’re a mythical creature.”
“Well, I meeeean…”
Jeongin shook his head, patting Jisung’s shoulder as he passed him to go sit on the couch. “Yes, it’s the human.”
“Does this human have a name?”
Jeongin fixed him with a stare that had him again placing his hands up in defense.
“Stupid question, I know. Better question: can I know their name?”
Jeongin smirked. “Nope.”
Jisung’s pout was priceless. “And why not?”
“Because they may not be comfortable with me divulging that kinda information without their say-so. Looks like you’ll just have to wait.”
Jisung groaned. “You know I hate waiting on things when I’m curious, I’m so bad at it.”
“Trust me, I’m aware,” the laughter was evident in Jeongin’s voice as he sat down. “Maybe someday you’ll know.”
“Oooooh, does that mean you wanna see them again?” Jisung’s sly smile made Jeongin roll his eyes, even though that thought definitely appealed to him.
“Let’s start the round, I’m ready to make up for last time when you beat me.” He pocketed his phone after saying goodnight to you, thinking about the picture you sent him for your contact info for another moment before he patted the seat next to him.
Jisung cracked his knuckles. “If by ‘make up for it’ you mean you’re ready to endure defeat from me again, I’m happy to oblige.”
Jisung handed Jeongin a second controller and sat beside him, setting up the game so they could play together. Jeongin wondered if maybe you also liked games, and if one day you might be up for playing with them-
He couldn’t contemplate it for too long before the match started and he was wrapped up in playful competition. His thoughts would drift back to you throughout the night, however, and he knew one thing was for certain.
Jeongin wanted to see you again…and he let himself be hopeful that you wanted the same.
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A/N: HELLO I AM BACK AGAIN WITH A VERY LONG OVERDUE UPDATE!
Ok so I haven’t updated in quite literally months, and I sincerely apologize about that. Life got in the way (work, school, family stuff, etc.) and every time I would try to work on the next part, I would become discouraged or just feel like it wasn’t flowing well. I have started on it and do have ideas, it’s just been hard to write them out.
However, I did have the idea to start doing parts in Jeongin’s POV, like this one! I feel like multiple POVs can really add to the narrative of a story and it helped me get my muse back somewhat. The dialogue is all the same, but this can at least provide insight about Jeongin’s thoughts and feelings as opposed to the reader’s. Plus, we get to see Jisung more which personally I love writing about, he’s such a fun character and I’m happy we can see more of him this way.
I know there were a few people excited about the story and if you’re still around, just know that I appreciate you more than words can say.
I don’t have a consistent update schedule due to work and grad school but I’ll try to update as often as I can!
And if you read this: thank you, I hope you enjoyed it~
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taglist: @bloomedofthorns @whattaweeb @tenclouds @rindomo​
★Series Masterlist
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★Part 5 (coming soon!)
★Character Profiles
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