#no but really this makes me feel so warm and fuzzy

[moonstruckme]

Hellooooo

Mae, could you maybe (absolutely no pressure or anything!!!) write something with Vampire!james x reader when he once again feeds from her and actually takes too much or so? Not like so much that it’s really bad or so but like too much, you know?

I haven’t thought about it a lot so I’m sorry that it’s so incomplete. The rest is yours to decide (as always)

(Sorry that my request is so messy, it’s the middle of the night for me)

Wasn't messy at all gorgeous! Thanks for requesting <3

cw: blood, lightheadedness/near fainting

vampire!James x fem!reader ♡ 682 words

You don’t notice it happening. You suppose that’s probably by design—vampires are supposed to drain their victims, after all, and that biology doesn’t account for your gentle boyfriend and his willing bloodbag. You’re not cognizant of any change between when your mind feels pleasantly fuzzy and when it starts to slip away from you altogether, dark spots blotting your vision and your bones losing their solidity. James notices, though, when you turn to mush in his hands. 

“Shit.” His voice is garbled by fang and slurred by gluttony, his arms encircling you to better prop you up. You feel a warm droplet of blood trudge down your front as he takes his mouth from you in a hurry. James swears again, wetting the wound to close it. “Shit, sweetheart, I’m sorry. Are you okay? Can you hear me?” 

You make some somnolent sound of reassurance, but it doesn’t seem to do its job well. James is panicky and upset, trying to calm himself enough to figure out what to do with you. 

“Okay.” He kisses your face, eyes watery. “I’m sorry. You’re okay. Let’s lay down, yeah? Come here.”

You’re not really up for following instructions, but James does the work himself, laying you sideways on the couch and propping your head on a pillow. 

“Stay awake, angel.” He lifts your legs some, holding your ankles in one hand while the other strokes up and down your leg soothingly. “Can you do that for me?” 

You hum. You’re feeling better already. It’s not like usual, where the fuzzy feeling starts to fade as soon as James takes his lips from you, but you’re beginning to feel more solid. “James, m’okay.” 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, voice hoarse with emotion. “How do you feel? Do you want some water?” 

“I feel better.” You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Just a little…a little weird. Hey. Jamie.” You cover his hand on your leg with yours. Your boyfriend’s expression looks tormented, his eyes glassy with self-loathing. “It’s okay, lovely. I’m fine, I just need a minute.” 

“I can’t believe I didn’t stop,” he admits in a near whisper. 

“I should have let you know.” 

“How were you supposed to? I was drinking you dry.” His voice thins. James closes his eyes, agonized. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. That was dangerous. I could’ve killed you.” 

“You wouldn’t have,” you tell him gently. 

“I could have, I—” 

“James.” You sit up on your elbows. Your boyfriend’s brows bunch concernedly, but your head feels fine. Maybe your protectiveness of James is just more substantial than anything else in you. “You wouldn’t have, baby. Really. I know you’re worried you’re going to lose control or something, but that’s not what happened. We just both let it go a little too far. And when you realized what was happening, you stopped without even thinking about it.” You make your voice firm. “This was just a fluke. It was bound to happen at some point, but you’d never really hurt me. And everything turned out fine, right? Didn’t it?” 

James breathes out. “I don’t know,” he says uncertainly. “Are you fine?” 

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You give him a smile, reaching out your arms. 

James hugs you but doesn’t meet you halfway. He presses you back into the couch instead, his arms wound tight around your middle and stubble scritching against your cheek. 

“You promise you’re okay?” He turns his head to kiss your ear. “Be honest.” 

You rub his back. “I promise. I just needed a minute. It’s normal, you know?”

James sighs, his body sinking into yours. “Nothing about this is normal.” 

“I guess. But I was talking about, like, blood donation. This happens all the time in those cases.” You lie there for a minute, you soothing your palms over his back and him with his arms wrapped around you. “I feel fine to sit up now, by the way.” 

“No way.” James kisses the shell of your ear again. “You scared the shit out of me, baby. I’m never letting you up off this couch again.”

[solxamber]

I TRIED TO DO A REQ EARLIER BUT IT WENT HORRIBLY CUZ I WAS IN A RUSH IM SO SORRY IF I MIGHTVE CONFUSED YOU.

My ask: Could you do the housewardens with an idol/ really famous reader from back in their world and they have a really bright smile that can blind people

THANK YOU AND. AGAIN IM SO SO SORRY

Housewardens x Reader with a Blinding Smile

hi! don't worry about it, i hope this is what you wanted and thank you for waiting <3

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is absolutely floored when he learns about your past life as an idol. It's not information he comes across on his own—instead, it’s Ace and Cater who excitedly tell him while showing clips of you performing for fun.

He watches with wide eyes as you move confidently on stage, each song accompanied by that radiant, nearly blinding smile. For a moment, he’s struck silent.

In those videos, you have a smile that can outshine the sun itself. His cheeks turn bright red as he watches, wondering how he’s ever going to handle dating someone with such star power.

Riddle finds himself wanting to shield you from crowds, too aware of how many admirers you have. He’s conflicted—proud but also slightly intimidated, especially when he realizes that he's one of the people drawn in by your smile.

When you flash him that dazzling grin, he can’t help but stammer, tripping over his words before eventually managing a whispered, “Please... not so bright. I can’t concentrate.” But even with his flustered protests, he’d never want you to stop smiling, not when it makes him feel like the luckiest person in the world.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona can be a bit jealous and even snarky, especially when others are drawn to your bright smile. He's familiar with admiration and attention, but not the type that seems to radiate from you so naturally.

Even in the middle of a crowded area, if you look his way with that blinding grin, he’s done for. He can’t help the soft smirk that forms in response, though he tries to play it cool.

“Keep smilin' like that, herbivore, and you’ll make it harder for me to keep you out of trouble,” he drawls, pulling you close with that lazy grin of his own. But he’s privately enchanted, even though he’ll never admit it out loud.

Whenever he catches you smiling in his direction, he relaxes, his usual cynicism melting away, and in those moments, he thinks maybe, just maybe, he’s lucky to have you.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is utterly captivated by your charm and star-like presence. When he first realizes just how famous you were, his business mind whirls with ideas about how you could take Mostro Lounge to new heights.

However, the moment he sees your blindingly bright smile directed solely at him, his business schemes crumble, replaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling he can't quite control.

He’s incredibly flustered around you, but he adores how you light up his world. Your smile has an almost hypnotic effect on him, and he finds himself working harder to impress you, pulling all the stops in ways he’s never done for anyone else.

If he’s feeling particularly brave, he’ll murmur, “Don’t go flashing that smile to just anyone… it’s far too precious to be shared,” though he’s always the one most drawn to it.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim is thrilled. He’s already brimming with positive energy, but knowing you were an idol only excites him more. He eagerly listens to every story you share about your performances, begging you to show him your old routines, and applauding with boundless enthusiasm.

Your blinding smile is simply the cherry on top, making him feel like he’s basking in pure sunlight whenever he’s with you.

If there’s a crowd around, Kalim proudly tells everyone, “Did you know my partner’s a superstar?” while he beams at you, completely unashamed of his open adoration.

Your smile gives him energy, and he’d do anything to see it again and again. Kalim often finds himself daydreaming about throwing a huge festival in your honor just to see you shine on stage once more, with him as your biggest fan.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil understands fame and the effect that a dazzling smile can have. Still, even he’s caught off guard by the intensity of your presence and that nearly-blinding smile you give so freely.

He can hardly believe he’s dating someone who has a charm and radiance that rivals his own, and sometimes, he’ll go silent just watching you, almost in disbelief.

“Careful,” he teases, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “We can’t have you outshining me now, can we?” There’s a competitive edge in his tone, but it’s softened by genuine admiration.

Though he’s usually focused on maintaining his own image, he quickly becomes protective, shielding you from the harsher side of fame and relishing in the moments when that radiant smile is just for him. In those rare times when you’re alone, he’ll smile back, admitting softly, “You’re beautiful… but let’s keep that our secret, hmm?”

Idia Shroud

Idia is bewildered—and just a bit overwhelmed—by your past as a famous idol. He can barely handle crowds, let alone the idea of the entire world being captivated by your bright smile.

When he sees you perfom and realizes just how magnetic you are on stage, he spirals a little. To him, you’re almost otherworldly, and he can’t believe someone like you would even notice someone like him.

When you flash him that blinding smile, though, he freezes, practically combusting with embarrassment. “N-No fair! Are you trying to kill me or something?” he stammers, face going red as he looks away.

Even as he complains, he finds himself replaying those moments when you smile at him, treasuring them like rare, legendary loot in a game.

Your warmth and brightness make him feel alive in ways he can’t explain, and though he’s shy about it, he’d do anything to protect the light you bring into his life.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is mesmerized by you, plain and simple. He’s never met anyone with a smile so radiant it could rival the brightest stars, and he finds himself drawn to you like a moth to flame.

To him, your smile is nothing short of magic, something that warms his heart and fills the void he’s often felt in his life.

When you smile at him, Malleus’s usually stoic expression softens, and he watches you with an intense, almost reverent gaze. “You shine brighter than the stars, my dear. Tell me, is that your true power?” he muses, half-teasing but fully captivated.

He takes your hand, holding it carefully, as if you’re as fragile as you are radiant. Your brightness becomes something sacred to him, and he’ll make sure no harm ever dims it.

In his presence, your blinding smile is met with an equally warm, if quieter, adoration, and he would keep that glow alive forever if he could.

(you can let me know if it's too short or if it's not what you wanted, I'll be happy to write it)

Masterlist

[sourbites]

Can I request a Kirk smut!! Friends to lovers kinda thing. For instance yall are smoking weed at your place and feeling a bit insecure about still being single and he makes a move on you???

Can't Tell You Why

thank you for the request! this was a lot of fun to write. i chose to write this imagining early 80s kirk, just to really amp up that clumsy love that friends share. hope you enjoy :)

The tip of the joint crackles, embers glowing as you coax smoke down into your lungs. The atmosphere in your bedroom is thick, smogged with smoke and giggles. There's soft rock playing in the background — some band Kirk chose.

"You're avoiding the question," He laughs, all love-me-tender brown eyes and crooked white teeth. You're both having fun, he's teasing you, you're teasing him. But still, you hesitate, exhaling smoke from your nose thoughtfully.

"I don't know," You wipe one hand on the front of your jeans. "I've only done it, like, once. Wasn't that fun, either— we were in this tiny car, and there was so much bumping around."

You twist on your bed, leaning up against the wall. Kirk moves, too, leaning his weight on a hand. "Once?" He repeats, surprised.

"What's that supposed to mean? You think I've been around?" You laugh, although there's some discomfort at his reaction lurking around in your mind. His mortification catches up with him two beats later. Eyes wide, laughing nervously along with you.

"I didn't mean it like that," Kirk exhales, smoke floating and swirling around the both of you. It hazes everything up: the light from your lamps scatter differently. Shadows look hesitant. He mulls over how to explain himself, self-conscious as he adjusts his position again. "I— I just meant, that you," He swipes a hand over his face, groaning in embarrassment through those hesitant chuckles. "You're smart, and— and real pretty. And charming enough to get anyone you'd want, so— I dunno, I mean, I'd..." He trails off. He speaks unintelligible nonsense for a few moments, before trying again. "You get what I mean." He concludes.

"Do I?" You take the joint from him. Something within you makes you feel sick with a feeling you wouldn't like to meet.

Kirk, ever the conversationalist, gives you an eye-roll. "So who was he, anyway?" He gestures to you, his index and middle finger steadying the shrinking joint.

You shrug. "Just a friend of a friend. I already told you."

He didn't say anything after that. Just hid behind his curly bangs, working his fingers into your bedsheets. Honestly, you're unsure why you even entertained this conversation. It's not like you'd find camaraderie within Kirk, not these days— tons of women want his attention. They want to taste his plump lips, hold his baby face, and kiss the crease between his brows when he frowns. You want to claw this bitter taste from your mouth. Gut the barbed vines in your stomach. As cool as you want to present, it isn't the most brag-worthy thing. Your first and only time being a half-baked hookup in some cramped-ass Ford Pinto? Get out the confetti. Your train of thought became an internal train wreck.

"Well," Kirk begins to roll another. "Where would you rather it happened?" Just briefly, his brown eyes glance up at your face to read your expression.

"Where else could it happen?" You ask no one in particular, voice hushed and ironically smoky in your fogged-up bedroom. You hum thoughtfully, picking at the thin rolling papers sprawled out on your bed. "Is it boring if I say a bed? Nothing else I can think of sounds appealing."

For some reason, you're allowed first drags. Pouring over you, Kirk lights the fresh joint between your lips. "Not boring at all. It's a classic for a reason, real nice when it's done right." He speaks easily, shrugging slightly. He's trying to soothe you. His smile makes your insides twist— and you enjoy it, in some macabre way. Teeth vibrantly white against warm lamplight and fuzzy shadows and black curls. You want to eat his mouth.

"Right." You sigh. Smoke billows from your parted lips. "I suppose you have? Done it right?" You're not sure why you ask that. You just want something to say. Preferably not about your (totally lacking) sex life.

Finally, it's Kirk's turn to bristle hesitantly. Easing his nerves, you pass him the joint.

"I've had some good nights, yeah." His answer is guarded. Your eyes glitter. What's he hiding? You nudge his side with your knuckles.

"But...?" You invite.

Kirk watches you for a moment or two, concluding you won't let this go. "But," He echoes, nudging you back. "I wouldn't say I've done it right."

"Why not?" You lean in. Drinking up the smoke that rolls off of him. You can smell him in the air, too, smoke-smouldering something spicy and musky.

He tilts his head to see you better. "Can't tell you," He whispers, grinning, wholly contradicting the inviting way his body slants to indulge you.

"Kiiiiirk."

Sigh. He's giving you the eyes. The eyes. Round and big, brown eyes so sparkly that they disarm anyone he's gazing at. You lean to him, attentive as a statue. You could soak him up if you wanted to; you're that close. Discarded smoke, already exhaled with all that high-inducing goodness soaked up, swirls around the both of you, murky white tendrils making you want to sway with them, beckoning you to move. Speak. Breathe. Live.

"Ideally," He shifts again, wanting to reshuffle his atoms. "Ideally, it'd be a bed..." A warm palm brushes your wrist and sneaks the joint from your fingers. "With you..." Your heart pauses. You stare at him, bewildered. "And me..."

What. The. Fuck.

Kirk takes your silence as a sign you want him to keep going. One hand cups your cheek, so tenderly you're tricked into thinking you're made from glass. "C'mon. How many more hints do I need to drop?" He coos at you before taking a much-needed drag of the joint to ease his own racing heart.

The funny thing is, you've hoarded his name in your throat for months. You didn't realise he had been holding his own breath for you.

Why? Out of everyone— you?

Kirk runs his tongue over his teeth, getting antsy. Softly urging you, he brushes the pad of his thumb along your lower lip while you just stare at him, amazed. You watch him from beneath your eyelashes as if he hung the stars in the sky. It comes again: the longing. The desire with no name, because no one has yet given you the language to speak it in.

Wordlessly, you draw his hand into yours. "That, um. Sounds nice." You reply, with what limited cohesive brain cells you have left.

Testing the waters, Kirk brushes his lips against yours, his breath mingling with your own. And it's hands down the most intoxicating thing you've ever had— you want to swallow it down in handfuls. Your eyelashes flutter again, and you almost feel drunk. He holds your cheek with clumsy, gentle fingers. He puts a heat in you that you didn't think was possible. And it feels so unfathomably perfect to feel wanted.

It's slow. Gently, you gravitate towards Kirk as if you're floating. Your mouths connect with a little more certainty this time. He laughs softly against your mouth. There is no better taste than that, you decide. Someone's honeyed laugh on your tongue. You're dizzy— should you feel dizzy? You want this feeling to stay.

Restless, he abandons the joint in the ashtray. With both hands in use, they swipe over your back, worship your thighs by the handfuls, winding and sewing roots in your hair.

"Can I take care of you?" Kirk whispers into the edge of your face, right underneath your chin. His mouth- wet and wanting, marks the uncharted territory of the soft underside of your face with a slow, hot kiss that ripples through you, reshaping you into something with an emptiness that's hurting to be filled. His tongue is laving wet and dripping with eagerness, building a taste for your skin as it glosses his spit down your throat. He tilts in to suck below your ear.

"Fuck, Kirk. Yeah— yes." You stumble out, nodding, your hips squirming in their cage of your jeans. You sweep your aching palms along his back, mussing his curls. He tucks your earlobe between his teeth, grazing the bluntness of his front teeth slowly along your skin. His breath sends chills down your spine. He grinds both hands beneath the waistband of your jeans, reading your mind.

He's aching to get a taste of you. The softness of your inner thighs swath around his head, dark curls rasping against your skin. His hot mouth is drinking you up through your panties, nosing into your pelvis. He wants to breathe as many 'I love you's' as he can into your skin, he wants to rake his tongue against your slit, lick your cunt open. Kirk can tell you're soaked— arousal drooling through the fabric that covers you, teasing him with the cock-hardening punch of girl flavour that he loves so much, seeping along the edge of his mouth.

Your underwear is thumbed off, his face shoved right into your cunt, and yet you still want to steer him by the shoulders and pull him closer. He takes slow, indulgent sucks on your quickly throbbing clit, that snowball into big, broad licks, tongue flat and mopping up your slick from bottom to top. He sinks two fingers into you, each pump straight down to the knuckle, creating crude squelching noises with the purest, stickiest arousal simmering within you. It's all burning hot, hot, hot.

Kirk swoops down again, filling his starving mouth with what he thirsts for: your leaking pussy. His cute nose is smooshed against your pelvic bone, and every dirty lap of his searing tongue forces your hips to scatter restlessly and yanks a whine from your throat. He's wild and heartache and sin, and it leaves you reeling from his every touch, every curl of his fingers and every relentless, starved suck of your clit, until his cheeks hollow.

"Can't believe I went so long without this," He groans with lusty delight, releasing your aching clit with a pornographic, wet pop. He kisses your parted entrance, tips his head down and spits on your slit. Whatever honey-soft brown was left lingering in his baby-love eyes has been devoured by total blackness, glimmering in delight as he watches his work of art, your soaked, spit-slick sex. He goes back in, shoving his parched mouth onto you, sucking in a fold, nipping the other, thumbing at your throbbing, swollen clit. He wants to eat you whole. Every salacious lick of his neverending tongue thunders within you— your cunt, tight and hot and so adored by Kirk's divine mouth, squeezes of arousal building within you until they morph into full-body trembles, your abdomen clenching and un-clenching, taut.

He glances up at you, dark eyes glittering behind his curly bangs, eyeing the heave of your tits with each tremoring breath. He touches you where hands simply cannot. His thick tongue eagerly tastes your heat: flesh, sweetness, salt. His cock is bursting against his too-tight boxers. You roll your hips against his mouth, chasing every lap of his tongue, every brush of his calloused hands. Softly, he becomes endless in you, and the searing pleasure he paints for you becomes explosive. Your volatile hands fist into his hair and yank, grinding down against his pretty face as gasps block your airways. He's drinking your soul - stuffing his mouth with every morsel of your worship-worthy pleasure.

You wail through the orgasm, something deep within you awakened and booming; how you survived him, you don't know. Your cum, sticky and warm, ebbs down Kirk's plump lips, smearing on his chin as he laps you up, thumbs spreading your cunt open to ensure he's licked every part of you clean. Even then, the impish flicks of his tongue do not go unappreciated.

To get him to stop his (wonderfully feeling) assault on your cunt, you peel Kirk away from you, a hand in his hair and your other palming at his shoulder. "How'd," You breathe, stupefied, "How'd you learn to do that?"

Kirk hides behind his curly bangs as if he has the right to get coy after gorging on your pussy so filthily. His teeth, white and charmingly crooked, glitter as he grins flusteredly. He wipes his mouth of spit and slick with the back of his hand. You feel a pang of emptiness without both his hands somewhere on your overheating body. "I, uh, I have a thing for it, I guess."

Great. You sigh, lost for words.

"Can we keep going?" You murmur out, gingerly pressing a warm palm to his worn-soft denim jeans, which are all warped and taut from his hard bulge.

Kirk's hands, all slow tenderness to soothe you, cup your cheeks, fingers sweeping into your hair. He lays a kiss on your lips with his own hungry mouth, kissing away at your senses. "Of course, beautiful."

His bulge swells right beneath your pussy, your orgasm simmering away and dirtying his denim jeans. Handsy with it, he palms off his belt and throws his jeans and boxers somewhere in your room. You let one of your legs fall open while he scoops up the other, forcing your thigh high up his waist, his palm sliding down to grab a handful of your ass. He sinks inside the molten ache of your eaten-raw cunt. He kisses you into oblivion at the sight of his thick cock disappearing within you.

The odd thing is, it all feels so easy. You're choked with the sincerity of the moment. Kirk's hands are devoted worshippers, thumbs stroking along your skin where you tremble, holding you where your thigh and hip meet, cradling you. Weightlessly, and yet with heavy limbs, you lay into the bed. You're full of paradoxes tonight. Light, heavy, friend, lover. They're all the same.

Your hands glide up his taut biceps, sliding down the slope of his back, tracing along muscles and bone. You hook him in, keep him close. Kirk's biting down on his lower lip, his eyes lidded, fluttering at the dreamy feeling of your dripping cunt clenching down on him in searing hot pulses. You shift your hips a little— you can feel his cock smushed into your cervix. Kirk groans low near your ear.

This hot, fulfilling fullness seems to seep deeper and deeper within you, endless. With a hitching breath, Kirk's hips withdraw, taking his body-hot heat with him. Until it pours all over you again in waves, easing your abuse-swollen sex, his thumb dipping down to gather the sopping wetness of your slick, cum, and his drool, and stir it around your puffy clit in full circles. All while he takes you in long, eager strokes, delicious friction causing your hands to skirt around his shoulders, putting a cramping, throbbing, ache in your hips.

You shudder, going tight around him. Kirk presses his face where your shoulder meets your neck. You can feel his baby face, sweet cheeks and plump mouth, those fawn brown eyes of his squeezed shut. Those charming features on a man who is fucking you with so much impeccable spirit that you're surely driven crazy with every rock of his hips, snapping up to wallop into the tenderly sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Every wet sound of his mean cock scraping the velvet insides of your aching cunt draws sobs out from deep within your stuffed-full belly. Your heart feels like a bass pounding in your ears, surrounding you with so much noise, every throbbing thump causing your breaths to shake.

Tangled bodies feel like they're cooking with all the hot friction between them. It smoulders, threatening to ignite— as if the hazy smoke of your social chainsmoking wasn't enough to put you in an awestruck daze. You clench your teeth, scraping your nails up the hollow of Kirk's shoulder blades, your own back arching off the bed, (which he uses as an excuse to get another gropeful of your ass) while he works your throbbing clit even harder. You want to squirm and writhe, but that'd disrupt the gorgeous rhythm of his cock. He drags himself through your wound-tight pussy, sloppy, indescribably thorough whacks of his pelvic bone right on the beginning of your slit.

You forget who's air you're breathing. Or if you're breathing at all.

In carnal screams that scratch up your sore throat, you murmur something akin to more more more don't stop, Kirk. Please. Kirk. His pace stumbles, landing right on his high while you're already curling around him, nails anchored in his skin, cries spilling from your lips. You squeeze around him with so much zeal that Kirk quite literally cannot move for fear of splitting you in two. All epic highs have lows, however: you scrape your hands down, tracing where your cunt oozes out your climaxes, feeling the boiling heat settle down, watching Kirk's glistening cock withdraw from you.

Everything feels suspended. Mid-air, hanging on the edge of something. Maybe it's longing. By some phenomenal stroke of luck (maybe it's your lucky day), the joint you were sharing is still lit. Kirk takes a long drag, exhaling against your clammy, bare skin. His mouth reaches your shoulder, and he kisses it with that pretty, insatiable mouth until you feel faint.

"Fuck," You take the joint he offered to you. Although you're not sure that this moment can get softer and warmer. "That was definitely better than my first time."

Kirk grins at your words, grunting quietly as he lays beside you, guiding your splayed-out hair away from your neck. "Just you wait. That was just a warm-up."

[chvnnie]

@therhythmafterthesummer

i’ve been mia for a second so i’m sorry i just now saw your tags! but i loved your in depth views on chapter one and appreciate all you’ve have to say about it. it warms my heart to see it get analyzed hehe, that shows me you truly enjoyed it and that makes me happy.

please go on as many tangents as you want with this series — i can’t wait to read what you think about the upcoming chapters! 🫶🏻

Letter One: Smoke and Tears

Love Letters Series Page

wc: 2.7k

genre: angst

warnings: apocalypse au, creature feature, use of weapons (guns), alcohol - brief, injuries (gunshot wounds, though no details), fire. I believe that's all, but if I missed anything, PLEASE LET ME KNOW

summary: It's been over a week since you've heard from Chan, and the guilt is burning him alive.

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents the stray kids members as people, or as a whole. you are responsible of the media you consume. please read responsibly.

series taglist: @straystayvlive, @fawnpeaks, @strayingawayy, @almighty-obsession, @ershyni, @chai-papa, @moon0fthenight, @djeniryuu — comment to be added

Hey, you.

I know I promised to write sooner. There has been a lot happening and while I sat down with my notebook daily, fully intending to respond to your last letter, something forced my attention away. I’m so fucking sorry it took me this long. I haven’t been very good about keeping my promise, have I? 

I promise to change that. Actually. There’s no excuse for missing that week window like I did. And it will never happen again. 

We got to the south side of town seven days ago. It was difficult leaving midtown, but staying there wasn’t practical. On top of all the haunting reminders, it started to get overrun. Rather than cling to the past, desperate to keep it despite its death, we chose to leave. 

The journey south only took us a day or so, but was relatively easy. Jisung cried the entire first day, walking further behind us than we would have preferred. The change has been the hardest for him — he really hasn’t settled in yet here. I’m scared he never will. 

But other than that, there really weren’t many hiccups. I was feeling optimistic; we hadn’t had this good of a journey probably since the start of it all. No injuries, no misplaced anger. Simply doing what we needed to survive. 

We even found a bunker within the day of arrival, saving us the risk of camping out in the open. A tall, abandoned building. I think it used to be an office. The cubicles have been nice. You know how limited privacy is now, so we take what we can get. It was easy to barricade all the exits, and our walkies actually work here (that was the one thing about midtown I despised). There’s even a kitchen! God, what a luxury. Truly, it seemed like a long term place. 

Until day four. 

There’s only two entries to the office; the front and the fire escape. It was Seungmin’s night to guard the front, Hyunjin at the back. I sat in the long conference room with Jisung — the window faces the street. It’s a good lookout. All was quiet, as it had been so far. I pulled out my journal fully intending to write to you. 

That’s when Jisung gasped, pulling his binoculars from his face and hitting me to grab my attention. I grabbed my own, and followed where he was pointing. No, it wasn’t what you’re expecting. 

“Are those people?” Jisung had asked me. 

My vision isn’t bad, but even I had to squint. He was right; though the group wasn’t big, it was obvious by the way they were walking. 

By the torches they were holding. 

For a while, we just watched. But I don’t think it was from lack of entertainment, rather sheer shock. The torches were touching homes, old buildings, flames blossoming at high speeds and dancing in the night sky. Screaming for attention, begging the Nots to come find them. To find all of us. 

The south side isn’t safe. Though the word has spread, I can tell you my love, that I’ve never feared I wouldn’t see you again until we broke into this god forsaken office building. 

Jisung had a window cracked, the perfect amount of space for his sniper to slip through. He was up and at the gun before I could fully process what was happening. 

“I have a shot.” He says within seconds, the cracked circular glasses fogging up. “At one. I could take at least three out—“

“Don’t.” I said, adjusting the binoculars to get a better view. Twelve people, I counted. All around our age, a mix of men and women. Each of them laughed as they turned the earth to ash. “Wait.”

“Chan, we need to act now.” He’s getting ready. I can tell. Tongue between his teeth, digging until the muscle breaks into a tiny cut, blood slowly filling his mouth. “They’re headed our way.”

He’d give away our location, I explained. The group isn’t close enough to be a danger. We need to wait, to see if there's a motive behind the destruction. Humanity is all united against the dark — there has to be a purpose behind this betrayal. 

Jisung wasn’t happy with me. Between forcing him from midtown and now this, I feared that night that if we didn’t lose our lives, I’d lose one of my most trusted friends. Still, he didn’t shoot, following the one we picked as the leader with his gun. Ready in case the okay was given. 

It didn’t take long for me to allow it. I don’t want our letters to just be about the horrors we’re facing. The suffering of being apart. So I will spare you the details of what made me allow the shot, and death of these twelve people. 

We didn’t see the thirteenth until it was too late. Until the makeshift cross was pitched in the center of the burning homes, the screams of this man were loud enough to wake the dead. In a world where everything has been taken from us, our lives forced apart, something I believe we all deserve is safety. 

Except for the twelve. While I mourned the man, I was delighted to watch the fire claim its creators. 

The rest of the night was quiet. Jisung and I sat in silence as we watched other refugees extinguish the flames, sharing a can beer we had been shaving. The luxury felt needed after what we had witnessed. 

His hair has gotten long. I think you’d really like it; it’s charming, especially when he ties in a little half pony. The cut on his cheek I mentioned in my last letter has healed nicely; Seungmin is getting better at his stitch work. The stars weren’t visible that night, but with the moonlight that pooled in from the windows, his eyes made you think there were. 

After he took a sip of the beer, his face twisted in disgust. “This is rancid.”

It made me laugh, the dramatic way he stuck out his tongue as he searched for the water jug. “I think it might be a little expired.”

“Oh? You think?”

“If you want to be a bitch, then I’ll just finish it off.”

God. I wish you could have seen the way he smiled, or could have felt the warmth that filled my chest at the sight of it. It’s been so long since I’ve seen Jisung smile like that. He even laughed, which made me do the same even though my eyes were burning from smoke and tears. 

I volunteered to keep watch the next few nights, though it didn’t come without push back. I said I wasn’t tired, though the truth is that I didn’t want to subject the rest of them to the suffering happening outside this building. They’ve had it hard enough, and I don’t want to add to their burden. 

Day five, Felix and Changbin went out to find supplies. We made a list — things we needed, things we wanted. If a luxury could be stolen, it should be. Felix had the paper, smiling brightly at me when I gave it to him. 

I never expected to hear his sobs mere hours later. Head on Hyunjin’s lap as Seungmin tended to the wound he had gotten while they were at a store. They ran into a group of humans, they said. In the same building, though at the other side. While Changbin kept his gun drawn, they agreed to ignore them. That’s just what you do — let others survive. 

Until they saw them. And laughed, laughed, laughed when they shot Felix in the thigh. Changbin’s voice trembled when he described the group of people. Jisung looked at me, face expressionless but eyes wide. 

There were more than twelve.

Superficial, Seungmin said. He was able to remove the bullet and tend to the wound. Felix would be okay, other than the limp he’s sure to suffer long term. 

“Charming, in a way.” Seungmin joked, but it made Lix laugh. Exactly what we all wanted; if he loses his sunshine, what’s the point?

We were blessed with day six. Nothing happened. Literally — Jeongin even started to nod off at his position. The day was spent playing cards or huddling around the beat up radio. Hyunjin started a mural on one of the walls, the colors bringing us the joy we so desperately needed. 

I spent the day in one of the empty conference rooms. Sitting under the window, thumbing through the photo book you gave me. Remember that day we went to the movies to see some cheesy Christmas movie? You hated it, mocking it the entire time just to get teary eyed at the end. In the parking lot, you hit me with a snowball and how was I to let that slide? I love that photo of you, drenched in water and snow, laughing as you build another snowball. 

I flipped through it over and over, happily losing myself in the worlds tucked in those glossy photos. Though everything in the world is meeting a fiery end, you are the one constant. The driving force behind my survival, behind the protection of the others. Without you, I would succumb to the flame. Life is not worth living without you, even if all I have is letters and memories. 

Fire may take your words, though it will never take my heart. 

That day would have been a wonderful one to write. But instead I spent it reading your letters, tracing the characters of your name. How does it look so lovely? How do you make words beautiful? I spent it looking at your pictures, bringing the album to my nose and inhaling deeply. It still has faint hints of the home we shared together. Do you think we might be able to return one day? Even if not, it won’t matter. I just want you. 

But closer. We are getting closer, and closer to getting to you. It’s taken more time than I would have liked, but the apocalypse doesn’t really like making time for people. By the time you read this, we’ll have left the south side. Step by step, closer to you. 

I miss the way you kiss me. The way your lips feel against my body. I miss your breath tangling with mine like the snow colored sheets we used to lay upon. I miss inhaling you, breathing you. The way your breath would hitch when you’re surprised, when you feel good. The little huffs of air your face before laughing your heart out. 

Fuck. I need to hear that sound again. The cassette tape you sent me isn’t enough anymore. I need you.

I fell asleep in that office, your letters pressed to my chest. And when I dreamed, it was only of you. Watching the smoke hand and hand. 

The sixth day, yesterday, the Nots arrived.

We watched as they entered the town; boney backs arched, long nails scraping the streets. Their horrible squeals were almost piercing, even with our windows shut. It’s always so chilling to see them; the remains of humanity lingering on their morphed bodies. Slowly, they slink down the street. Sniffing for any signs of life. 

Felix was tucked in one of the bathrooms with Seungmin, a walkie turned on loud. If we needed to go, it needed to be fast — which left Hyunjin packing our belongings as Changbin, Jisung, and I stood in the very same conference room where we first saw the twelve. 

“They look rough.” Changbin comments, leaning against the window. He had been keeping watch on the front entrance; even though Jeongin and Minho were standing guard. A warning would be valued. “They’re hungry.”

Jisung gagged at the word, cleaning his glasses with the sleeve of his sweater. “Fucking gross, don’t say that—“

“Why do you think they’re so loud? They’re getting desperate.”

At this point, I realized my optimism was playing a part in my downfall. Even as I watched the crowd of Nots scavenge the debris, looking in trash cans and behind fences, I could only think about how lucky we were to be so high up. They couldn’t touch us, tucked away on the fifth floor of the building. 

The lookout walkie gave a crackling noise before Minho’s voice cut through; clear, measured, even though his tone was obviously frantic. 

“Breach at the fire escape.” He says quickly. 

I picked up our walkie. “Do you hear anything?”

It felt like a century before he responded, all of us holding our breath as we waited. The silence was more chilling than the shrill squawks below. It’s one we all know too well; they’ve found prey. I can only hope it isn’t us. 

Minho clicks back on, and I realize it was naive of me to be scared of the Nots. “Laughter.”

The room began to spin, my ears void of all sound except the sound of laughter. Louder and louder it, closer and closer to our floor. The most horrible melody, leaving the bitter taste of blood in my mouth as my body feels like it’s melting. 

They have flames. 

“Seungmin, take Felix out the front.” I clicked in, trying to stay as calm as possible. “Now, hurry—“

“The Nots are out.” Changbin says, eyes bouncing from the direction of the fire escape to the window. “They’re not going to make it.”

“We don’t have a choice.” Jisung mumbles, opening a window to set his gun up. He squints one eye, tracking the creatures with the barrel of his gun. “I’ll take out as many as I can.”

It was a lose/lose. No matter which exit we took, the risk was high. But something in my gut told me that we rather deal with the Nots than whatever is making that bloodcurdling laugh. 

“How close are they, Minho?”

The silence is a beat too long. “Too close. We need to fucking go.” 

There wasn’t much more than needed to be said. By the time Jisung had shot down a good number of Nots, the laughter was accompanied by banging. Slow, hollow knocks. Their fists were hitting the door. 

And then came the heat. 

The flames grew slowly from under the metal door, dancing on the worn out carpet. By the time we were rushing down the main staircase, it had already enveloped the room I had slept in. Where I had dreamed of you. 

If it weren’t for Jisung, we probably wouldn’t have been able to escape as easily as we did. Hurdling over twitching bodies of Nots, we kept our gaze ahead. Running past the cross, ducking behind remains of buildings. I don’t know how long we ran for until we came across an empty convenience store. Changbin pushed a stand against the door after we cleared it. Boxing ourselves in temporary shelter. 

At the window, Jisung stood. Arms crossed, watching the smoke tangle with the clouds. He heard me coming, yet didn’t even look up at me. “I told you we should have never left the mid.”

He didn’t sleep last night. Neither did I.

We are leaving the store pretty soon. Seungmin is checking on Felix’s wound, Changbin and Minho mapping out a new route as I write. We’re heading east this time. I’m not sure when we will stop yet. 

But east means we’re closer to you. 

I’m mailing the letter today, too. According to the calendar we’ve been keeping, it’s now August 23. The heat has been sweltering here — how is it there, for you? Probably that much different, but you’re further north than us. I can only hope a cool fall breeze will greet us when I meet you again. 

I picked a new spot for you to send your letter as our location has changed — I’ll attach a map to this and check it daily. I know we’ll be in that area for a while, so  send there for now. Hopefully we won’t have to flee again, but I won’t be too optimistic this time. 

The world may be on fire, but so is my love for you (hahahahaha). But truly, if it weren’t for you, the apocalypse wouldn’t seem so bearable. 

Stay safe, my love. I’m coming home soon.

Forever yours,

Chan

[puppyeared]

doodles of my fav sillies

anton belongs to @poicyss

[chaotixx-stims]

30 days of agere day 16: favorite fashion style/aesthetic

💿/🐠/💿

💾/☆/💾

📀/🐠/📀

[youmakethelight]

Not me immediately writing a new post after I said I might delete this blog, but

I'm just thinking about the episode Ghosts (10x03) and I'm grieving. Because I just said that David Zabel's gas-induced hallucination in TBOC was gimmicky, but Ghosts revolved around Carol hallucinating due to not sleeping. And yet, Ghosts was a fucking amazing episode. So, I guess that exemplifies the disparity between an idea and its execution... much like Melissa's idea to explore Carol's grief for Sophia and Zabel's weak as shit execution of that idea.

Angela fucking Kang.

I'm not gonna hold back. Season 10 was a fuckin masterpiece. We were truly deprived by losing Angela Kang as the showrunner for Carol and Daryl's spin-off. I literally don't give a fuck what people want to say about things they think she did wrong. She's talented as shit and we would have got some fucking quality entertainment with her as showrunner.

[dent-de-leon]

This is just a very silly little coincidence, but. When I got Taliesin's autograph at NYCC and he saw my name, he went "Leo!! Oh, nice." And it made me so ridiculously happy and full of gender euphoria to hear he liked the name I happened to pick. And now finding out that he's playing a new character named Leo just makes me so ridiculously happy,, it just makes me smile that he likes the name too :'))

[ssreeder]

rereading one of the best pieces of literature ever made (liab) and godddddd it's so good like I remembered it being great but really it's so so good. also your writing has improved so so much your style your everything oh chefs kiss !!

AWWWWWW SHUCKS YOURE SO NICE THIS IS SUCH A NICE ASK AWWWWW IM BLUSHING :):):):)

(& omg thank you for the compliment on my writing! I am so sure it has improved over the years,,, I had no idea what I was doing in the beginning ahhh and I still don’t know what I’m doing but at least I have grasped the basic concept after a million words haha)

[1zashreena1]

If you're still here reading this I wanna say thank you

[x-ladydisdain-x]

Hopefully I’m not jinxing anything by saying this but David Tennant is probably the least problematic cishet old white man celebrity like ever. Genuinely has that man ever done anything wrong

[anotherpapercut]

Ayo, as someone whose only hallucinogenic experiences have been in the following, what are your thoughts on/have you tried DMT and/or salvia (divinorum)? I tried both in the one night a couple of years ago and it was an incredibly enjoyable experience but I've not tried other hallucinogens, I wouldn't mind knowing how you compare it to other hallucinogens! (if you can)

I've not tried salvia but I have tried dmt a couple times and funnily enough I fucking HATED it. like I've tried maybe 2.5 times and I remember the whole time (for context for those who don't know, dmt lasts like 15 minutes max lmao) being like "holy shit I need this to be over NOW holy fuck I'm gonna DIE" bc for me it honestly felt like insanely intense sensory overload. like everything was loud and bright and assaulting my brain. a poster of some kittens saved my fucking life one of the times ajhdkabdjd I stared at them and they gently lifted me back to reality

so I think if you started with DMT and salvia ur fuckin GOOD bro like ur ready lol. acid is pretty similar feeling to DMT except imo a lot less intense, and it lasts all fucking day so you can do a lot of Fun Activities. shrooms are pretty similar, usually a lot easier to tailor ur dose ime and they last like 5-7ish hrs usually as opposed to the like 8-15 you get with acid. so w those two I think if you liked DMT and salvia you'll probably like them, bc they're very similar just less intense and longer acting! from what I've experienced the visuals and stuff are slightly different on all of these but it's the same kind of experience. so most people I know have 1 favorite that for whatever reason meshes best w their brain (I'm an acid guy, most people I know find shrooms to be gentler tho!)

MDMA is probably my personal favorite in the psychedelic class because that shit is straight happiness to your brain. music is great on most drugs but on molly oh my god. like. you need to dance bc all of your cells are dancing. and you LOVE. just so much LOVE. I recommend doing a candy flip (acid and molly) or a hippie flip (shrooms and molly) bc the effects play off each other and make for an extremely pleasant experience (provided you're being safe of course!!!!). I would NOT do this ur first time for clarification, because you always wanna see how you do on stuff alone first but if you end up liking them keep it in the back of ur mind for someday when ur favorite band releases a new album or smth :)

[dandy-andyyy]

sighhh *opens up ao3*

[royalarchivist]

Eret: My boy. Mouse has been getting so much attention all day. Goose, I think, deserves a little bit.

He likes - he really - he's a big fan of cheek rubs. You can also see him on this camera. It's his favorite spot. If I'm ever on my computer, I'd say there's probably a 50% chance Goose is right next to me right here, otherwise he's elsewhere.

Or if - if Mouse has stolen his place, he's not there. He's almost always here. It's his favorite spot, especially if I've got the blinds open and he can look out the window and uhh, see the birds outside. He loves that.

Aww rubs. My boy. I love Goose so much. He looks like a little toasted marshmallow.

[bigdumbbambieyes]

thank you SO much for your little heather/chrissy fics! you’re an absolute gift to this tiny rarepair fandom!

omg and thank you for reading them 🥹 i love reading your tags when you reblog my cunningway ficlets, it really makes me excited to write more!! 🤍

and i’m planning an actual fic for them, too! i can tag you in it once it’s posted, if you’d like? 🥰

[watatsumiis]

Thank you to everyone who takes the time to tag me in quizzes and ask games btw !! It makes me feel really happy and loved that y'all actively think of me 😭 I promise I do every single one and enjoy them a lot!!