#or simply The Traveler™

[lake-lunvik]

T R A V E L E R

[wonder-worker]

"Among their complaints [in 1460, the Yorkists] specifically blamed the earls of Wiltshire and Shrewsbury and Viscount Beaumont for ‘stirring’ the king [Henry VI] to hold a parliament at Coventry that would attaint them and for keeping them from the king’s presence and likely mercy, asserting that this was done against [the king's] will. To this they added the charge that these evil counselors were also tyrannizing other true men* without the king’s knowledge. Such claims of malfeasance obliquely raised the question of Henry’s fitness as a king, for how could he be deemed competent if such things happened without his knowledge and against his wishes? They also tied in rumors circulating somewhat earlier in the southern counties and likely to have originated in Calais that Henry was really ‘good and gracious Lord to the [Yorkists] since, it was alleged, he had not known of or assented to their attainders. On 11 June the king was compelled to issue a proclamation stating that they were indeed traitors and that assertions to the contrary were to be ignored." - Helen Maurer, "Margaret of Anjou: "Queenship and Power in Late Medieval England"

Three things that we can surmise from this:

We know where the "Henry was an innocent helpless king being controlled and manipulated by his Evil™ advisors" rhetoric came from**.

The Yorkists were deliberately trying to downplay Henry VI's actual role and involvement in politics and the Wars of the Roses. They cast him as a "statue of a king", blamed all royal policies and decisions on others*** (claiming that Henry wasn't even aware of them), and framed themselves as righteous and misunderstood counselors who remained loyal to the crown. We should keep this in mind when we look at chronicles' comments of Henry's alleged passivity and the so-called "role reversal" between him and Queen Margaret.

Henry VI's actual agency and involvement is nevertheless proven by his own actions. We know what he thought of the Yorkists, and we know he took the effort to publicly counter their claims through a proclamation of his own. That speaks louder than the politically motivated narrative of his enemies, don't you think?

*There was some truth to these criticisms. For example, Wiltshire (ie: one of the men named in the pamphlet) was reportedly involved in a horrible situation in June which included hangings and imprisonments for tax resistance in Newbury. The best propagandists always contain a degree of truth, etc. **I've seen some theories on why Margaret of Anjou wasn't mentioned in these pamphlets alongside the others even though she was clearly being vilified during that time as well, and honestly, I think those speculations are mostly unnecessary. Margaret was absent because it was regarded as very unseemly to target queens in such an officially public manner. We see a similar situation a decade later: Elizabeth Woodville was vilified and her whole family - popularly and administratively known as "the queen's kin" - was disparaged in Warwick and Clarence's pamphlets. This would have inevitably associated her with their official complaints far more than Margaret had been, but she was also not directly mentioned. It was simply not considered appropriate. ***This narrative was begun by the Duke of York & Warwick and was - demonstrably - already widespread by the end of 1460. When Edward IV came to power, there seems to have been a slight shift in how he spoke of Henry (he referred to Henry as their "great enemy and adversary"; his envoys were clearly willing to acknowledge Henry's role in Lancastrian resistance to Yorkist rule; etc), but he nevertheless continued the former narrative for the most part. I think this was because 1) it was already well-established and widespread by his father, and 2) downplaying Henry's authority would have served to emphasize Edward's own kingship, which was probably advantageous for a usurper whose deposed rival was still alive and out of reach. In some sense, the Lancastrians did the same thing with their own propaganda across the 1460s, which was clearly not as effective in terms of garnering support and is too long to get into right now, but was still very relevant when it came to emphasizing their own right to the throne while disparaging the Yorkists' claim.

[staryuee]

“HEY, CAN I SLEEP ON YOUR CHEST?”

꒰warnings꒱ implied AMAB/AFAB, somewhat gender neutral terms but written w/ gay dynamics in mind, suggestive

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . kaeya, itto, alhaitham, wriothesley ⚣ yelan, yae miko, clorinde, arlecchino ⚢

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . meant for the gays and lesbians respectively! male characters are written in a gay POV, women are written with lesbian POV — my little gift for pride month ♡ shoutout to all my male readers i’m sorry there’s content drought for you i hope i sufficed even if just slightly 😓

A. KAEYA — 凯亚

resident boob window man.™

kaeya can’t help but relish in the eyes of people who pass him by to just simply ogle at his chest area; because let’s be honest, no body is looking at that red shirt of his. so when he heard the phrase, “can i sleep on your chest” escape from his boyfriend’s lips, it didn’t come as shock or surprise but more so a warranted compliment.

who was he to deny you? if he allows dozens to have a subtle peek at his gorgeous, tanned skin, why would he not give you a privilege that was beyond that. “how about sleeping on my bare chest? after all, isn’t heat better shared when directly skin to skin?” of course, such alluring words were written using the truth for the sake of obscenities.

and yet, when you finally burrow your face into his chest, arms snuggled safely around his waist as you hummed softly, kaeya was sure his heart would leap out of its ribcage. god, he was so lucky no one was here to embarrass him further because the image of the ever elusive, mysterious and slightly flirtatious calvary captain turning into a silly puddle at just the littlest bit of affection would be etched into history’s memory to make use of as blackmail material.

“your heartbeat is really loud,” you teased, a subtle smirk tilting your mouth as you felt his breath hitch at your sudden call out. he was hoping you couldn’t hear that incessant hammering, but since you’re so close, he might as well let you savour that sound for a little longer while he’s all yours.

A. ITTO — 荒泷一斗

“itto!”

“[name]!”

“can i sleep on your chest?”

pausing the excited chant and the slight ritual between you two to randomly call out each others names, itto stumbles and stutters in embarrassment, “i—! well, uhm, yeah! sure, hell yeah! ‘course you’d wanna, after all y’know we’re dudebros uhm, boyfriends, yeah!” it would be cuter if he did less dignity saving and a little more holding but nonetheless, this is what you signed up for when asking this tall hunk of mess to go out with you.

fortunately, neither of you would have it any other way.

getting fully comfortable in bed, it’s like you sink into itto perfectly, your body falling limp and heavy as your head cradles itself between his tattooed chest. if you didn’t feel so absolutely drowsy from the amount of heat exuding from his body, you were certain your hands may have wandered to squish them for the fun of it. yet, you refrained.

not like itto would’ve noticed such wanderings regardless, he was too busy fighting hyperventilation and this nagging cuteness aggression that threatened to manifest itself in him squeezing you painfully within the grip he had on your smaller frame.

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

“wrio…” you whine, face nuzzling into the nape of his neck and arms sliding along his waist to pull him flush against you.

“what is it, mon beau?” he can’t help but chuckle at the way your hands sneakily traveled along his abdomen and up to cup his chest, squeezing occasionally per routine after wriothesley came out the shower all wet and enticing, those droplets dribbling down his abs just simply begging to be swiped clean (either by your tongue or a towel, but both of you knew which one wriothesley would prefer).

“can i sleep on your chest, please? had a shitty day.”

wriothesley smiles smugly, the question rather warranted given how touchy you were being with him. “you’ve been getting all demanding lately, you know that?” settling himself within the covers of your shared abode, wriothesley promptly propped his head up atop fluffed up pillows before tapping on his chest. “come here.”

watching as you immediately snuggled yourself within his tender embrace, face nuzzled between his tits as if they were gold itself, wriothesley latched onto you with an affectionate stare, hands rubbing at your back to help soothe you. “my boyfriend’s so clingy these days,” he chuckles, giving you a gentle squeeze despite clearly having the strength to grip you tighter.

“should i just connect us with handcuffs at this point?” he suggested, but honestly if you asked, he’d do it without hesitation.

AL HAITHAM — 艾尔海森

“hey, can i sleep on your chest?”

alhaitham promptly shuts his book at your request, eyes gradually meeting yours like some sort of lizard. “but i’m a man.”

“yeah so am i, what’s your point?” your lips puckered into a firm pout, a hand on your hips as if you were absolutely bewildered that he even dared to deny you in such a subtle way despite you asking so nicely instead of snuggling yourself between his manboobs shamelessly.

“my point is,” alhaitham sat up from the couch, those muscular arms that you were certain were littered with your bite marks a few days ago laced over his chest as if to reprimand you for your ignorance, “i’m a man, it wouldn’t be comfortable for you because my breast tissue is smaller than that of a woman.”

“well, can i?” a small stretch of silence ensued for a while before alhaitham gave up trying to reason with you and merely propped up his pillow, rolling his eyes at the way you wasted no time in snuggling yourself against him. face of course nuzzling against his chest restlessly. he might not admit it to you, but you certainly weren’t blind to big boobs when you saw them.

there was a whole curve. you could calculate the circumference of those things if he asked — and honestly? that within itself wouldn’t be beyond him. alhaitham found himself enjoying this more than he thought he would. his hand carded within your messy bed-hair as the other took its time to soothe your back.

if such a dumb request is enough to make you happy, he doesn’t mind fulfilling it.

YELAN — 夜兰

“i’m not used to being caught off guard,” yelan coughs into her hand, what seemed to be both a look of surprise and smugness distorting her usually calm facade.

“would you like to bet on my answer to that question?” she tilted her head to the side to entice you, her finger luring you close with a simple movement you couldn’t help but be drawn closer to almost instantaneously.

“well, can i?” you ask innocently, a bambi look to you that yelan would normally tease, but right now she wanted to devour completely. she grins, pearly whites showing as she pat her lap for you to cradle yourself in.

“i was thinking of taking an afternoon nap anyways, i don’t see any harm in you joining me.” and of course, you wasted absolutely no time in jumping within her embrace, those hands that normally held poker chips and cards or the neck’s of egregious men now holding you with an almost surreal gentleness.

“atta girl.” yelan giggled as you nuzzled yourself snuggly against her chest, those lashes of your fluttering against your cheek as sleep seemingly lulled you in a mere instant. where you keeping awake just for her to hold you? how sweet.

YAE MIKO — 八���神子

“have you been obsessively reading those sapphic novels of yours again, [name]?”

“nuh-uh…”

“don’t lie to me dearest, i can read you with a mere glance.” yae miko flutters some cherry blossoms that clung onto her attire with a mere wash of her hand, prepping herself for the long yet worthwhile cuddle session ahead that she’s grown more than accustomed to each time you presented yourself with your hands clasped behind your back so innocently like that.

“lay down then darling, you have all my attention.” she says after a minute, and of course you obey without any protest. you snuggle yourself into her comforting warmth, her arms immediately enveloping you as you lay down against her. yae miko proceeds to kiss repeatedly all over your head while humming a soft tune that sounded suspiciously familiar to you.

it was the same song that gently breezed in the background of your first kiss during a festival, when the sunset deep the sky in a beautiful array of red and orange hues.

seems like you weren’t the only one to have been obsessively reading sapphic novels lately.

CLORINDE — 克洛琳德

“clorinde…~ can i sleep on you chest please?”

“…don’t you have your own? i don’t quite understand your fascination.”

“i want to be able to hear you heartbeat when i wake up.” ah, well you can’t just say such swoon-worthy words and then expect her to not completely drop everything and coddle you. a blush smothered her cheeks in the most cosiest of hues as she fumbled over in her effort to figure out what reply she could possibly conjure up.

it took a few moments before the words finally reached her lips but the response that fell out was no less eloquent than the one that followed, which was to laugh. “i…why not? just don’t get too attached, i have to leave in the early morning.” with that said she pulled the covers back and slid into the bed next to you, who had taken up residence in the space between the bed’s headboard and the wall, leaving enough room for both of you to comfortably fit.

clorinde wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you flush against her side while she tucked herself under your chin, effectively shielding you from all harm. her breathing evened out gradually until she seemed to have drifted off, lulling you into complete slumber. you were sure you wouldn’t even notice if she hadn't been holding you tight to her chest.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

“you’ve become bolder, haven’t you my dumb bunny?”

the luxury of comfort was the last thing arlecchino obtained within her livelihood. she didn’t need it, nor did he want to have it. she would be content with living in the forest and sharing it’s abundant wildlife with fellow rabbits or whatever other small animal that came to feed on it. they could do what they wanted and it wouldn't bother that unnerving stoicism of hers.

yet such a simple, minute, even pure, question of yours? it somehow rattled something within her like a predatory snake unleashing it’s coil on its prey in sight for a bigger bite.

“since you’re so desperate for sleep, suppose i’ll have to indulge you.” she sighed heavily despite her tone holding no mingle of exhaustion apart from the permanent eyebags drooping beneath her lids.

like a berry unknowingly rolling into the reclining jaws of a centuries starved bear that’s drooling per conditioning, you comfortably settle right next to her heartbeat, those black nails sending shivers down your spine in electric shocks of warning as she spookily tugs them down your back.

her words always seem so elusive, so teasingly endearing they hardly feel sincere — almost as if sweetened words that spill from her lips come as easily as the breath from her frigid body. one thing that couldn’t lie, most unfortunately to arlecchin’s interest, was her heart.

the way it beat so clearly and loudly against your ear, it was hard not to giggle. of course, the ever perceptive arlecchino mumbled something incoherent about your perceived insolence and shoved your face right between her breasts to stop you from peeking directly into her heart. despite you clearly being in it already.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

[planetdream]

PLUTO !

CHARACTERS ! vampire!lee minho, human!reader [ft. human!kim seungmin, servant!han jisung]

GENRE ! horror/thriller—vampire!au. “romance”. smut. minors dni.

SYNOPSIS ! when your fiancé, seungmin, fails to return home after notifying you of his departure from count minho's estate, you decide to search for answers yourself.

WORDS ! 12.2k more or less

THIS FIC CONTAINS ! writing inspired by the various varieties of dracula. horror [vampirism. gore—body horror: details of blood and bloodsucking. spiders. strange creatures. nightmares and overall very lucid dreams. allusions to character death.] hypnosis. hallucinations. manipulation and gaslighting. kidnapping? and references to religion [christianity/catholicism], prayers and comparisons to a Higher Power™. mentions of food. infidelity and smut [one wet dream. pussy eating—a lil bush appreciation. hair pulling. big dick minho. grinding. fingering. worship. term master used once. degradation—whore shaming. choking. nipple play/breast fondling. lots of spit. squirt n cum.]

💌 extremely self indulgent. all the thanks and love in the world to the homie, @cosmicbyeol for beta-ing for me n overall being an incredible help !!! 🥺 also, as always, accepting feedback and constructive criticism!!

The last three weeks have been weary, to say the least. You had been elated as your fiancé, Seungmin, was scheduled to arrive back in the city after a nearly two-month-long business trip. With the day of his return steadily approaching, you found yourself excitedly performing various small tasks in preparation for the moment you finally see him again. Then the big day arrives and Seungmin is nowhere to be found. No big deal; perhaps his arrival is a bit late, or he may need time to himself to unwind after long travels. If anything, he’ll show up at your door the next day with flowers and a gift, ready to tell you all about his journey and the people he’d made connections with. 

Then the fourth day comes, and by that point, you’re knocking on his front door but to no answer. You stroll past his home on your evening walks and the lights aren’t on. You’ve revisited the post office, checked in with relatives; and still, nothing. Seungmin is seemingly lost to space and time. By the sixth day, you’ve written a letter to Count Minho, the friend and business partner that Seungmin had been staying with; explaining the situation and the fact that you’ll be visiting while in search of Seungmin. 

Count Minho is a mystery to you. Seungmin never spoke with you about his relations with the Count, and you never pried into the specifics of his work business. From what you do know, Seungmin’s work involves him being in contact with several different people from real estate to archaeologists and historians, to priesthoods and other religious leaders. You simply assumed Count Minho had been one of the aforementioned, or possibly an artifact seller or buyer; as Seungmin is interested in the hobby himself, and has countless other buyers and sellers he knows. While the Count is a mystery, you feel that there is a possibility that he can lead you back into the arms of your lover. 

After a few days of planning and packing, you finally decide to get started on your journey. By the Sunday of the third week, you’re lodging with some very nice people in the town nearest to Count Minho’s estate—which is only about a two-hour distance away—you choose to stay in the village to get the word out about Seungmin. 

The townsfolk are a welcoming and lively bunch. You were fed, rested, and told stories of both local legends and the juiciest gossip around town. On the eve of your final night in town before you join the Count, you mentioned him, and the room fell silent. A feeling of unease weaved its way into the small kitchen you’d been standing in. The two women beside you failed to meet your gaze. You had already been told of the creatures said to be lurking through the forests between town and the area of the Count’s estate. A classic story of a wolfman who is out to kidnap unsuspecting young men and women; only brought up because of very recent alleged sightings. 

A third woman finally spoke up. Urging you to forego your plan of visiting what she called such a vile and off-putting man. There’s a legend about the man who lives in the castle at the edge of the forest—whom you presume to be Count Minho—who comes into town during the night of the first full moon of the spring season, with the sole purpose of terrorizing people in their homes; feasting on their organs and drinking their blood. The last occurrence happened nine springs ago: a family of five, two completely drained of blood and tossed to the side, with another two torn piece-by-piece; left mixed in a pool of wasted blood. There had been one remaining survivor, eyes removed from their sockets, who only could say one thing: “He called himself God.”

Though the story terrified you—you refused to let that stop you. If Count Minho is some extraordinary beast, then let you be the one to stop him if it means you get to become one with Seungmin again. 

Alas, the day to meet Count Minho has come, and the women you shared dinner with last night are appalled to hear that you were insistent on making your way to Count Minho’s estate. Knowing that they cannot stop you, they wish you luck and pray for you, gifting you a crucifix for safety on your journey. 

By the time you approach Count Minho’s estate, it is about an hour after sundown. The sky begins to dim rapidly, as the former golden-pink hue of the sky begins to turn into a deep purple and later fading into black. The temperature drops by the hour but thankfully the winter season is coming to an end. The snow is already clearing up, and in a couple days it will have been long gone and forgotten for generous showers of rain. 

Your arrival, predestined and arranged to be brought by carriage, led you here. And as you pull into the gates of the estate, an unsettling feeling hits you. Deep in the pit of your stomach as if something had crawled inside of you and is now scratching to be freed. Despite that, the feeling of discomfort quickly begins to wash over you, seemingly dispersing into fascination—like a group of butterflies or a bouquet of flowers flourished within your body and spirit. You feel a lot lighter, elevated as if a veil was pulled over you. 

You can hardly see the castle in the darkness, but if you strain your eyes hard enough, you may be able to see the silhouette of the grand estate. Though that’s no use, the surrounding forest, and deep black sky work as a void, shielding away any ounce of natural light, encompassing the castle within its secrets. The moon, nearly full, and friendly to those who respect it, is useless as the structure of the castle casts away the inquisitive nature of the celestial body—nothing will be brought to light or justice tonight. 

The carriage, drawn by three black horses, halts in front of the main entrance. Several long, white, cylinder candles light up the main door of the Count’s castle. The entrance is similar to that of a cathedral’s—two heavy-looking doors adorned with indescribable red patterns; swirling into shapes that seemingly recreate human-like faces. It’s vague. At a simple glance, the patterns reflected by the candlelight look like faces, but the longer you look at them you realize otherwise. The patterns seemingly have no rhyme or reason, endless red swirls that are simply just decorations. 

Atop the door is a large arch, and in the dead center is a sculpture of a man—perhaps it’s of the Count. In the brief flicker of the flame, you can see the face of the sculpture. Its face is horrid, angry even; a permanent scowl displayed. But in that short second, you notice its eyes, big and red, fixated directly on you. There’s a chill that runs down your spine in that brief moment of eye contact. And while every nerve in your body warns you, there are matters that the Count needs to assist you with that are bigger than just a feeling. 

In your deep thought, one of the doors opens with a loud screech, almost like the scream of someone. It garners a gasp from you, shaking you out of your head and back into reality. Before you know it, your feet are moving faster than your brain and you step out of the carriage. Collecting your bags and holding them tightly, thanking the coachman for bringing you safely. As you turn back to the door, it’s open wider than before, but still, the Count is nowhere in sight. 

You walk closer, hand reaching up to touch the door and you enter, eyes unable to find a resting place. There are candles everywhere, several of them as if there are no electrical lights within the place, despite the huge chandelier hanging from above. The smell of the place does not come from the candles—it’s something else that draws you in, a familiar scent perhaps from your past, but you’re unable to put your finger on it. You step further into the home and when you do, the door behind you slams shut, making you jump and turn back. 

The slam is followed by an unsettling silence, practically deafening. You call out. 

“Hello?” You look around. Just ahead of you is a long hallway, lit up with candles. You’re not sure how long the hallway is, as at a certain point, the light from the flames is no longer visible, fading into a pitch-black blanket. The walls are decorated with cobwebs and a boring gold and red damask; the colors are fading, or at the very least very dusty and in need of upkeep. The floorboards are wooden and when you shift, they make an awful creaking noise. This castle has been around for a long time—centuries even, likely and believably kept within the Count’s family. Modernity has not caught up to it. 

“Hello?” You begin again. “I’m Y/N. I wrote to you a few weeks ago as I had some inquiries for you about Seungmin.” 

Your voice trails off. There’s a cloud of unease that reigns above you, and still, as you stand in the foyer of this already strange place, there’s a familiar warmth that surrounds you. When you breathe in, your chest expands, hair brushing against your neck as you sigh in both contentment and exhaustion. 

“Good evening,” You heard his voice, but you hadn’t heard him come over. “I have been expecting you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but any aforethought words get caught in your throat at the sight of him. He’s gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. You catch his eyes immediately, locked into his stare, lost in the deep sands of his chocolate brown eyes. There’s a soft yet teasing nature behind them and it draws you in, latching onto you. He looks to be a lot younger than the age you heard him to be. His lips curve into a smile as he sticks his hand out for you to shake. Though, quite frankly, you’re not sure if you’re supposed to bow to him or not. 

“Yes, um,” You shake his hand, giving a small, shy smile. You’re unable to take your eyes off of him. 

“Come on. You must be cold and tired, let us go sit.” He speaks before you get the chance, letting you collect your thoughts. “Feel free to leave your things there. They will be collected.”

You nod, setting your belongings down and following Count Minho deeper into the castle. You’re unsure if it is because you’re a bit tired, or some very serious architectural error, but the interior of the castle is like a labyrinth of sorts. The Count opens a door you initially assumed to be a room—but instead turned into another hall of rooms. He turns left on his heels and into a side room, you follow along. 

The room you enter is small but comfortable enough for three or four people to have their space. Ahead of you are big windows, covered with thick black curtains that scrape against the floor. To your right is a fireplace, a huge flame already burning and keeping the room nice and toasty. On the right are three large bookcases that reach the ceiling, the multicolored spines of the books add little pops of color. In front of you are two velvet chairs facing the fireplace, divided by a porcelain side table and atop of it are two books and a tea set. 

The room is very neat overall. A couple of misplaced books here and there, sat on the floor. Otherwise, it’s eerily neat. As if the Count rarely uses the room but chronically dusts because everything is just for decoration. The Count takes a seat and as he beckons you over, eyes diverted from your face, as he pours you a cup of tea. You move hastily, sitting at the chair across from him. 

“Hibiscus,” He says, a small smile on his face. “It also seems that I’m forgetting my manners. Those in the town call me the Count, however, you are welcome to call me Minho.”

“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet with and host me,” You begin, ready to get to the point. The Count—Minho—nods. “As I mentioned in the letter sent, I’ve arrived here to look for my fiancé, Seungmin. I’ve only received letters from his arrival and departure, and not many in between those times; which is unlike him on his usual work trips. It’s been weeks now, three to be exact. And since you are a friend of his, I was hoping you knew of his whereabouts.” 

“I fear I will be of little to no help to you, my dear.” His choice of words, while peculiar, are selected carefully. “Seungmin is a near and dear friend to my heart and I truly hope that he is safe, wherever he may be. The thing I can say is, he had been acting a bit—” He pauses, seemingly pondering on the right word to say before continuing. “A bit…abnormal.”

“He had been here at your home for nearly two months, what exactly do you mean by abnormal?” You inquire, pressing Minho to say more, not caring of how your tone might sound.

“He began to have these dreams, and some active hallucinations. Completely plagued by them. Night terrors, I’d say. He feared whatever he had seen, and while he initially confided in me about it, he soon concluded that I was untrustworthy. Somehow, Seungmin lost touch with reality.” 

Plagued by nightmares is something that you take note of. A month into Seungmin’s stay at the Count’s castle, you began to have these vivid dreams. Some good, some horrendously terrifying and, well, a large percentage of particularly electrifying dreams. The most recent—waves crashing together on a violent stormy night on the sea. You’re aboard a ship, standing in the center of the forecastle, and all around you are piled up bodies; and there’s blood on your hands and arms, staining your skin. Blood soaking into the fabric of your clothing. It felt immensely real. You felt the unease of the rocking boat, you heard the crashing of the waves and the squawks of the birds circling overhead. Weirdest of all, you could smell the blood; almost craving it. The dream ends with the sounds of a heart beating and the rushing of blood flooding to your brain. And then there’s nothingness. 

The Count takes a sip of his tea, and you choose to follow suit. Though, the tea is bitter, even with the added sugar, and not slightly tart as Hibiscus tends to be. Quite frankly, the taste is gross, but you drink out of respect. You do your best to keep a straight face at the taste, quickly setting down the cup. A small smile appears on Minho’s face, exhaling with a short laugh. 

There’s a knock at the entrance of the door. In the frame of the door stands a slender figured man who seems to be a tad shorter than the Count. He’s rather cute with his medium length hair and round cheeks, though he wears a blank expression on his face. He turns to you, doing a brief bow and opening his mouth to speak. 

Minho interjects first, walking towards the other man. “This is Han. Very simply, Mr. Han is my servant. Forgive me, Han here, was supposed to see to your arrival, but he had other obligations to take care of.”

The two look at each other, but only the Count smiles. Han keeps the same stoic facial expression, looking more exhausted than anything. The Count begins speaking once again. “Y/N, here, is the fiancé of Mr. Kim. You remember Mr. Kim, don’t you, Han? Y/N informs me that Mr. Kim didn’t arrive safely back home, now is that right?”

The Count looks to you, and you stand from your seat, nodding. “I’ve gotten a letter of his departure but he hasn’t been home yet,” You let out a deep sigh. “I just miss him so much. I hope that he’s safe wherever he is.” 

The air in the room is thick with tension. For the three of you, this has to be an outstanding situation right? For you, as young as you are, to have the love of your life—the man you plan to marry and give yourself to—to go missing without much word. And for the Count, who has been a longtime friend of Seungmin, having to deal with the weight of potentially being the last one to see Seungmin. 

“A friend of Count Minho is a friend of mine,” Jisung smiles. “I’ll do my best to help you find Mr. Kim.” 

Han and the Count step off to the side to exchange words briefly. Han turns to leave and the Count turns back to you. “Hungry by chance?”

The dining room is rather spacious, and includes a fireplace, which seems to be a running theme within the Castle. The wooden floor panels are mostly covered by a large, deep red rug. Red is the main color of the decor of the room; the velvet dining chairs and all the flowers,—from the pansies to the roses—even the dinner plates; are red. Despite this, it’s clear that Count Minho has quite a bit of money to have afforded all of this: from paintings to small artifacts that decorate end tables and small statues of gargoyles. Perhaps he is indeed a collector of sorts. 

Minho pulls out your chair, pushing it back in once you’re seated. He then takes his seat at the other end of the table. There’s a spread of food on the table and various bottles of wine, to which the Count motions for you to help yourself to. After making yourself a plate, you pour yourself a glass of wine—a red, twirling the liquid within the glass, foregoing the tradition of smelling the aroma and instead shooting it straight back. The wine is rather sweet and washes down smoothly; more like juice than a wine. 

Count Minho watches you eat with inquisitive eyes, studying you. He drinks from his wine glass as he stares at you. “What exactly do you know about your fiancé’s career?”

You meet his gaze, eyes fixated on you with a squint; it all makes you a bit uncomfortable. It’s like Minho can read every bit of you with just a simple look. 

“Not very much.” You admit. 

“Oh?” The Count is especially interested now. “Had he told you anything about me then?”

“No. Only that you were a long-time friend.” You pour another glass of wine. “Although..”

You trail off, unsure of if you should mention the story you heard from the town. You look at the Count, and he raises an eyebrow to you. 

“I had been staying in the town nearby for a few days before coming here. And well, I’m not too sure how to explain it. The only things I know of you come from word of mouth, and well, they aren’t very good.”

“Go On.”

You recite to him the story you had been told about the man in the castle who would come into the town and terrorize its citizens. At the end of the story, Minho erupts in laughter. He’s holding his stomach and chuckling, wiping faux tears from his eyes. 

“Let us just say, I have more valuable things to do than whatever that is,” Minho rolls his eyes. “I only ask because you intrigue me. That, and I never thought of Seungmin as someone who would lie to their lover, really.”

The word lie is interesting. You’d always perceived Seungmin to be an honest man, really. The two of you forged your relationship on the basis of being fully honest with each other. You never thought you would ever come close to doubting Seungmin nor his truthfulness, his faithfulness even; but Count Minho’s tone of voice—the seriousness coating every bit of breath he takes—along with the fact that you don’t truly know of Seungmin’s work, has you second guessing yourself. Now it’s your turn to press him. 

“Continue.”

“I’m saying, you don’t know what the man does for a living but you choose to throw away all inhibitions and potentially roll yourself into danger for a man you almost transparently know next to nothing about.” The Count pauses to sip more of his wine. “Seungmin was into things of the rather unusual variety, I’ll have you know. If you want, I can show you the things that he and I were discussing.” 

You take Minho up on his offer, and he gives you a small smile in return. 

“While I’d love to get to work on such matters tonight, I’m afraid I must go to sleep. I have some important matters to tend to in the morning. Shall I show you where you’ll be staying?”

—

You follow Minho, out of the dining room and down the endless hallway. The wallpaper is practically peeling, and the higher ceiling riddled with cobwebs notably hasn’t been cleaned up in quite a longtime. The obvious decades old paintings that were placed against the walls had been covered in dust and grime, dimming the vibrancy intended by their various artists. He then stops at a white door, turning the knob to open it. The room is dark and cavernous, but with the help of a lit candle sharing its warmth with the candles previously naked and cold, you see that it’s actually quite spacious and bright. White and light brown decor gives the room a light and more alive look in comparison to the thick dreariness of the parts of the castle you’ve seen so far. It’s almost like venturing into another world, or peeking back into an oddly shaped past. 

“Breakfast will be served early in the morning. Sleep well.” And with a smile, Minho exits, closing the door behind him. 

In the silence, thoughts begin to fester, nipping away at your well-being. You’ve gotten next to nothing so far from this meeting with the Count, but tomorrow is a new day and you hope he can give you insight into this world of Seungmin that seems to be unraveling. It’s confusing—for a brief moment you find yourself questioning your decisions. Have all of your life choices led you to this exact moment? The Count is vague in his ways of doing things—it’s like he’s not even trying to hide the potential of his true nature. He appears like any other person, but there’s something more to him than what meets the eye. You’ve been caught in a web of mystery, slowly sinking deeper and deeper.

You find that your bags are sitting next to the bed and you reach in to find your night clothes. Once you lift your shirt over your head, you cannot help but feel like eyes are watching you. Covering yourself, you scan the room in an attempt to soothe your psyche, and as expected, you remain completely alone. Shaking the feeling, chalking it up to being nervous about being in yet another new place, you continue to change your clothing. Sitting at the edge of the bed, you reach into your bag to pull out a letter you received from Seungmin. 

“My dearest heart, 

There is not a moment that goes by where I am not thinking of you. On my lonely and rather daunting work evenings, I look to the sky and am reminded that we share the same view together. You are the one thing keeping me balanced and sane. I know that you are waiting for me to return, and I want nothing more than to return to the safety of your warmth. Until then, look to the sky and be reminded of me. 

K.S”

Once finished reading, you press the letter against your chest. The second to last letter you received. Initially, it was rather hard to sleep at night after you received it. You had longed for your lover—missed his existence to no end, and you still do. There is nothing in the world that you would rather have than the gift of your lover returning to safety. You long for Seungmin, aching for the chance to finally touch him again. To hug, to kiss, to feel every inch of him once again. Today marks the third week since you had last heard from Seungmin, and from tonight onward, you demand to get the answers you deserve. 

You gently place the letter onto the nightstand. You kneel onto the floor, elbows pressed against the bed with your hands together in prayer. You had never been religious, nor, in a situation in which you felt you needed to pray before—but it has become a habit of the last few weeks. Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply. 

“Dear God,” You begin. “Please align me with my lover. Please return him to me safely.”

Pulling back the covers, you snuggle into the bed, drifting off into an idyllic night's sleep. 

You’re stuck. Seemingly, your body is paralyzed; hands resting at your sides, legs pressed together. You try to move, starting with a pinky and then your foot, but the longer time goes on, the more your ability to move lessens. Unable to even move your head left or right. You’re completely stuck. Not to mention, stuck in some complete void of a room, unable to see anything. 

There’s a vibration around you. It’s a subtle vibration, though you can feel your body swaying back and forth as if suspended in the air somehow. Just then, there’s a spotlight. It shines in your face before spirling in circles, lighting up various parts of the area you are in; but still, there’s nothing but darkness, even in the brightness of the light. Just until you view a quick flash of something briefly catching the light. The light runs from the figure before spinning back to shine itself on the mystery. 

Despite its distance away, you can see the thickness of the short hairs that decorate the body of the arachnid. The many eyes of the spider sparkle in the light, its eight moving legs speeding their way over to you. You watch as it clicks its mouth, salivating as it makes its way to its fresh catch. 

Here you are: a mere fly in the realm of the spider. 

At a blink of an eye, the spider is circling you, inching closer and closer until you can no longer see it from your horizontal position. Suddenly! It lurches, jumping atop of you. The spider sinks its fangs into you, piercing your skin harshly, burning. The attack against your skin causes blood to splash everywhere, spraying onto your face and body. You shriek in horror—attempting to send signals for your body to wake up from its terror. Your entire body burns; throat dry and brittle from yelling so much. The area around where the spider’s fangs are latched inside of you, both itches and stings. Feels like you’re getting pumped for your blood yet also injected with its venom. 

If possible, your body gets stiffer. Cold. Vision fading.. And fading until there’s nothingness. All you can feel is the body of the eight-legged creature draped over you; taking and taking freely. 

Despite the nightmare, you feel rather refreshed waking up. A minimal amount of light shines through the curtains. Stepping out of bed to the faint smell of food, you yawn and stretch briefly before heading to the closed door. Stepping into the hall from the confines of the room you spent the night in, you take a few steps across the hall to look out into the window. It looks bright and comfortable outside, a stark difference between the drab, dreariness of the castle’s interior. 

When you arrive at the dining room, there’s a full spread of food. Toast, tea, and a plethora of fruits and berries. In the daylight, the interior of the dining room looks a lot dustier, as if it's barely used. And to be fair, it seems as though only the Count and his dedicated servant occupy the estate. Which you wonder about—does Count Minho have no family? And what about Mr. Han? Any lovers? Who exactly is the Count and what was Seungmin’s business with him?

“Will Count Minho be eating with us?” You ask as you take a seat. 

“Sir is taking care of some business this morning. This breakfast is all yours.”

“You won’t be eating?” 

“Ah,” Jisung sighs with a smile. “I had a big breakfast earlier.”

With that, Jisung lets you begin eating. He simply just stands there, and while his eyes aren't on you, you can feel him observing your presence, similar to Minho. 

“So, Mr. Han,” Playing with your food as you speak. “How long have you worked for Count Minho?”

“Only a few years. Feels like a lifetime, though,” He turns to you, a small smile on his face. 

“Are you also a friend of Seungmin?”

“I’d only spoken to Mr. Kim a few times before his most recent visit. I typically stay out of all of Count Minho’s business affairs. I prefer to deal with the home side of things,” Jisung nods. “Speaking of, you’re free to explore the castle if you’d like. The Count won’t return until later.”

“Really? Are you sure he’ll be okay with it?” The opportunity to explore this grand castle piques your interest. You raise your eyebrow towards Han and he nods in response. 

“It’s no problem, really. To warn you, some rooms aren’t used as much anymore so they might be a bit untidy. Almost time for some spring cleaning.” Han gives you a short, dorky laugh. He’s adorable, if that’s the word. He seems to be on the more timid side, probably doesn’t speak to many people other than Count Minho on any given day. “Jisung, by the way, you can call me that.” 

“It’s nice to officially meet you.” You smile. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

Jisung nods. 

“What room did Seungmin stay in?”

“The room that you are staying in.”

The castle looks rather different during the daylight. The hallways feel hollow, completely blank despite the moderate amount of clutter in the form of various books and paintings littering the sidelines. While the idea of a large estate is stunning, it is clearly a bit too much for only the Count and Mr. Han. You wonder if Count Minho has been previously married—or even married at all; to be fair he looks a little young, but it’s possible he’s had a lover in the past. Perhaps that’s why he’s so understanding of your pursuit to find Seungmin. 

You return to your room. Beginning at the bedside table, you tour around the room, looking for clues that might help you. Searching the dressers in the room, you make your way over towards the small desk in the far corner. Opening the drawers of the desk, there remains nothing but untouched letter paper. Scanning the area for any unchecked marks, your eyes fall towards the bed. Dropping to your knees, you crawl the short distance to the edge of the bed. Pulling the bed skirt up in anticipation only to be left with nothing but dust bunnies. This initial search leaves you empty handed but you go off to make your way through the rest of the Castle. 

The castle is indeed like a labyrinth. Some doors open to an empty, decrepit room of various doors. Admittedly, you’re a bit too afraid to open one of the random doors. You’re not familiar with the layout of the estate, and you refuse to get too deep into this trap of a home. One door opens to a windowless room, and the singular wooden chair in the middle causes you to back out of said room slowly. 

Continuing on your pursuit through the endless halls of Count Minho’s estate, you approach a doorless room. Without needing to walk in, you can tell by the bookcases that it’s a library of sorts. Making your way through the entryway of the library, you find that the temperature of the room is noticeably colder than the hall. The library has dark wooden shelves filled with books from the ceiling to the floor, and you know that if Seungmin was here, he’d be able to tell when and where the shelves were constructed. He would always pick up little pieces of knowledge like that—claiming that he didn’t know why yet, but knowing such would help further him in life; and importantly, in his studies. 

You run your fingers over the spines of the books as you stroll your ways through the library. There are books spanning across language and subject—the majority of it, completely unidentifiable to you. 

You come across a leather-bound book displayed on one of the bookshelves, cover forward. It’s dark, dusty, and might even be a little dirty. The cover of the book itself is twisted, the skin of the book twists and dives into different layers, somehow folding the cover of the book inside of itself. It’s complex and strange, unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. Just to hold it, the weight of the book is heavy, somehow warming up in temperature. To feel the book, to hold it in your hands, it intrigues you just as much as it disgusts you. 

The language of text presented on the pages is unknown to you. The drawings that accompany the writings, however, are disturbing. Dark and detailed illustrations of creatures that you would never have thought of. Upon the first page is a visualization of a winged creature with the distant silhouette of a man. Only there’s a huge eye where the head would be, and its legs are tangled and twisted together. Turning a page, you’re presented with another drawing. An illustration in charcoal of a dark figure. The drawing looks as though it’s been drawn in haste; a rushed, frantic effort. Alongside is another illustration of a mouth—though without ink, the artist did their best to emphasize the splotches of blood that stain the mouth. What stands out the most are the set of razor sharp canines that protrude from the teeth—two sets, specifically. Beholds, the only romanization on the page: Vampyre.

A chill runs down your spine, but you’re unable to remove yourself from the grasp that the book has. Turning page after page, overstimulating yourself with various images of creatures that are likely to lurk in the shadows. The longer you examine, the more your head pounds. Nausea interrupting all plans you may have had. Head spinning and spinning, visions bending and thrawn within itself. Figments of the images you’ve viewed imprinting themselves on your vision in dark splotches like a memory. The new and the strange tangling itself within your memories, hiding within them for safe keeping. 

“Y/N?” There’s a light voice that breaks you out of your spell. 

When you come to, Count Minho is standing over you, his cold hand pressed against your forehead. You look around the room, sitting in an opposite corner of the library than you originally remembered. 

“Are you alright?” He asks. 

“I’m not too sure,” You sit up straight in your seat. You look towards the open window and the sky outside is completely dark. Somehow, it appears that hours have passed. What a freaky and strange thing. 

When you look up at Minho from your position on the chair, you’re immediately pulled into the pools of his eyes, locked in. “You must be hungry, yeah? It’s dinner time.” 

Just like last night, Minho leads you to the dining room. Just like last night, he slides your chair out and pushes it in for you. The spread of food tonight is different from last night, and you notice that some of the decor around the room looks different as well. Your vision hasn’t quite recovered from its hectically blurred state, and in your moment of disillusion, none of this interests you.

“Is there something wrong?” Minho asks as he sits. What isn’t wrong? You feel a rather painful shift in your own mood. 

“I think I might be a bit tired.” You exhale. Despite aching for the continuous pursuit of knowledge, sickness continues to trail behind you. Uncertainty creeping its way up to the forefront of your thoughts. You’re unable to escape the feeling that there might be something seriously wrong. Anxiety rests in the pit of your stomach, slowly eating away at you. Refusing to look at Minho, you pick at the food on your plate. Honestly, you feel rather sick. Your vision, while still painfully blurry, continues to spin ever so slightly. Placing your hand flat against your forehead to find that you’re burning up on flu type levels. You look across the table toward Minho and your vision doubles, triples, then suddenly you're seeing eight versions of him. 

It’s a bit of a hassle to move the heaviness of your hand, fingers slowly creeping up to grasp onto the wine glass. You close your eyes to soothe your vision, taking the glass into your hand fully. 

Minho coos. “I was really looking forward to dinner with you; but if you’re tired we can postpone our conversation.”

Taking a sip and allowing it to savor on your tongue. The slight, unsuspecting note of pomegranate makes you smile—something comforting in the mixture of mess you’re currently feeling. 

Grace be to God. When you open your eyes, your vision returns to normal. It’s something of a miracle. 

“No. It’s fine. That strange book in the library,” You look at Minho and struggle to find the words. All that remains in your head is visuals of every creature you saw depictions of. 

“What book?” He doesn’t follow. 

“It has drawings of these strange creatures in it. Some kind of horror book, I think it made me a bit sick.”

“I’ll tell Han to search for it so that I can have a look,” 

Dinner continues with only a few moments of silence. The topics range from a variety—the original focus of conversation on Seungmin before venturing off elsewhere. Count Minho gives you insight on what he does; referring to himself as someone who studies human nature, communication and our state of existence. He loves the study of humans and thus dedicates his life to it, choosing to be of help in any way he could be. Of which, is how he met Seungmin, and from there, they became partners due to their similar interests. Somewhere, is a layer of information that Count Minho refuses to give up so soon. 

“May I walk you to your room?” Minho asks, rather politely, but your room is not too far from your current position. Still, you say yes to him. 

Unlike dinner, the very short walk is in total silence, but Minho’s presence is comforting. You reach the door to your room in no time and Minho steps in front of you before you can say anything. The silence continues as Minho and you stare at each other. Though, the silence turns to static when Minho leans in to kiss you. His lips on yours and you don’t even bother to pull away. Instead, you kiss back, allowing him to deepen the kiss. He pulls away in haste, muttering a goodbye before walking off into the darkness of the hall.  

You step into your room and therefore, instantly step into a pool of guilt and confusion. Seungmin is so far from the forefront of your mind—for you to indulge in a kiss with another man and to not think once about your lover. What kind of monster have you become?

Once changed into your night clothes, you peel under the covers and you pray. You don’t feel like yourself, and the feeling creeped upon you. The thoughts in your brain are mixed together, both elaborate and unintelligible, a mixture of things you know and things you never knew. Images of those same creatures stain the darkness when you close your eyes, peeling back layers of the person you once knew to be you. Before sleep finally engulfs you, you pray for the guidance of whoever is listening. 

Minho guides you towards the bed. Red and black satin sheets fitted across the bed and the pillows. Minho pushes you against the bed and huffs out a short laugh, smirking at you. You bite your lip out of nervousness, peering up at him. 

“You’re so beautiful, my rose.” Minho’s hand is soft against the skin of your knee. Lightly, he drags his nails against your thigh, inching closer and closer to the material of your nightgown. 

Before he does anything, he leans down to kiss you; eyes closing as your lips work in sync, souls melting together. The kiss deepens for just a moment until Minho pulls back, brown eyes staring into your own. He plants one more quick kiss against your lips before his hands begin working beneath your gown. He slides your dress up to your waist, admiring the softness of your belly and the smoothness of your skin. One kiss above your navel and another kiss below, is all he lets himself have before he gets too deep into it. 

You make it easy for him, foregoing underwear to allow your lover easy access. Minho can only scoff, but he shuts himself up with another kiss to your mound. “Just for me, my dear?”

“Only you, love.” You smile at him, motioning for him to come closer. Minho, of course, follows suit. He would give you a billion and one kisses if he could. 

When the kiss breaks, Minho drags you towards the edge of the bed. Spreading your legs apart, he drops to his knees beginning his worship of your cunt. Tongue flailing out, slurping up every drop of your wetness, soft lips drenched in your flavor—and there’s no other way Minho would rather have you than at his complete surrender. His hands grip your ass, trying to push you into his face. Lips covered in slick and spit, puckering around your clit, sucking it in; Minho’s head bobbing up and down slightly, moaning into your cunt. 

“So fucking delicious,” Minho mumbles, continuing with his feast. Your hands fly to his hair, pulling with every lick and suck he gives you. Moaning freely, not caring if the entire world can hear you. In fact, maybe the entire world should hear you. 

Minho eats you sloppily, savoring not only your taste, but the feeling of your cunt against his skin. The feeling of the softness of your pubic hair against his skin is like heaven to him. Sometimes, he’ll spend time rubbing this face against the hair before he dives into your cunt. Not to mention the feeling of your juices soaking into his skin, which he’d use as a natural moisturizer if he could. Minho’s obsessed with every inch of you; from your cunt to your skin, to the very blood that courses through your veins.

His fingers push into you as his tongue swirls against your cunt. His lips suck your clit into his mouth, tongue lightly beating against the tip of the bud. Minho pushes his saliva to the front of his mouth, soaking your clit in a mixture of his spit and your juices. 

Your fingers pull against Minho’s hair, tugging harshly against his scalp but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He might even ask you to pull harder. You push Minho against your cunt, slowly grinding your hips against his face. Moans bouncing off the walls as you drip onto Minho’s tongue. Minho takes this opportunity to suck on your clit just a tad harder, triggering your pending orgasm. Eyes rolling to the back of your head allowing you to see colors as warmth rocks through your body. Limbs daring to curl together, Minho doesn’t allow you to move from the hold of his hands nor the warmth of his mouth. 

Minho slowly kisses up your body. You can feel the remnants of his kisses even after he’s long gone from a spot because of the wetness on his lips. He kisses at your neck, then your cheek, and finally your lips. Deepening the kiss as he taps his cock against your cunt, you invite him in. 

Three long orgasms later, you and Minho are snuggled in bed, snoring softly beside each other. Suddenly, you’re woken up by a loud bang. Looking to your side, you find Minho unbothered, still asleep, chest rising gently with each breath. There’s another bang, louder and possibly closer than last. You slide out of bed, looking back at Minho’s sleeping figure before making your way towards the door, hand reaching for the glass door knob. 

There’s another loud crash as you twist the handle of the door. You step into the hall of darkness, wooden floor cold against the bottom of your feet. Closing the door behind you, you venture out into the darkness. The halls of the castle are quiet, unmoving; day in and day out they remain the same, even in the dead of night. It’s rather sorrowsome, actually. So full, yet so empty—the castle feels like it's dying. 

Another loud bang. Followed by another and another. One after the other, four beats apart. The knocking appears to get louder with each step you take towards the staircase. You raise your foot to take that first step, there’s another bang once you firmly plant your foot against the stair. Quickly but carefully, you make your way up the staircase. In the near distance, towards the end of the hall presents a glimpse of golden light. 

Letting your legs guide you, you make way towards the door at the end of the hall, almost floating. The knocking doesn’t stop, getting louder and louder the closer you get to the door; but when you try to halt, you’re guided to your destination by a sudden force; body stiffening, neck making a sharp turn as you peek into the room. The crackling warmth and light emitted from the fireplace sets a gorgeous, homey scene. 

“Help.. Me..” 

Your eyes shoot towards the ground until you find the fingertips of a man laying in a puddle of blood. But before your brain can process who the person is, you’re snatched away. Falling fast into a pit of darkness. 

You awake in the dead of the night to a knocking at your door. It’s soft and subtle, but has been consistent enough to pull you from your sleep. One knock after the other, four beats between each knock. 

Tossing the covers away, you step out of bed. Muscles tough and sore, there’s an unease as you rub the sleep from your eye, feeling as though you’re encumbered in your own head. You take another heavy step, the knocking still not ceasing. One step after another until you reach the handle of the door, and only then does the knocking stop, floorboards creaking as the sound of footsteps shuffles away. 

A minute goes by until you decide to open the door. The hallway is dark, the only light is coming from the window across the hall. You look towards the moon—there she is, full in all of her glory, bringing the spring equinox along with her. You walk towards the window, looking down towards the ground and noting that the snow has completely melted. There’s a dark, shadowy figure in your peripheral that breaks your appreciation for nature. Turning in the direction, there’s nothing in the distance. You follow, passing by the kitchen and making your way to the stairs. The shadow dissolves into the darkness at the top of the stairs, beckoning you to chase after it. 

Once you reach the top of the stairs, there’s a sliver of light peering from the far end of the hallway. The trek over isn’t that long, and once you’re within a few feet you slowly approach the door, tiptoeing your way over. Creeping up to the doorframe, you hold your breath as you peek into the crack of the room. There’s not much to see, just a steady fire and its continuous cracking. Until you hear a moan and your eyes dart to the location of the sound. 

There, you spot Jisung sprawled out on the chaise, half of his limbs hanging off as Minho straddles over him. Attached to his neck, Minho wastes most of his meal, letting blood slip from his mouth and drip down Jisung’s neck. You gasp, fully taken aback by the action you are witnessing. The townspeople were right to warn you—the Count is a monster. Or maybe something worse. 

After the accidental announcement of your arrival, Jisung locks eyes with you. Your gaze, however, is stolen by Minho once he turns around, peering up from his feeding position. He’s wide-eyed with blackness covering the entirety of his eyes, lips and chin stained red with blood. Once Minho realizes it’s you who interrupted his feed, he gives you a wide, bloody smile—showing off the two sets of fangs at the top row of his teeth, the outer fangs just slightly bigger than the inner fangs. For a moment, time seems to slow down; you watch as a small droplet of blood drips from one of Minho’s fangs, and before it fully releases, Minho swipes it with his tongue, licking over his fangs for extra blood. 

Before you can turn back and run, Minho is already behind you in the blink of an eye. 

“Unfortunately, my dear, running is useless,” The Count grabs you by the collar of your pajamas and forcefully drags you into the room. You fight him off but your hits do nothing to him. Letting go of you, Minho pushes you onto the ground. “Stay.”

Jisung stands up from his position laying across the chaise, dipping a rag into a bowl of water sitting on the side table. You watch Jisung with inquisitive eyes as he wrings out the rag, carefully cleaning up the marks and the blood stained to his neck. Minho, meanwhile, is facing the fireplace with his arms crossed and one finger pressed to his lips. Jisung finishes cleaning himself up, and begins moving around to avoid eye contact with you. In horror, you watch as Jisung takes a tarantula out of its cage and places it into his mouth, chewing as he turns to walk out of the room—leaving you alone and helpless in the clutches of Count Minho. 

Minho tsks once, then once more. A hand on his hip as he shakes his head. He extends his arm, quickly swiping away all of the candles and books the rest atop the fireplace as a loud, angry cry escapes from his chest.  

“I thought that maybe,” Minho begins. “Just maybe. I’d have an extra night or two before having to do this to you. You’re a curious one, aren’t you?” 

Minho turns to you. An insincere smile on his face, fangs hidden away but some of Jisung’s blood still covers his face. You spring to your feet, not wanting to stay on the ground when it’s clear that Minho has the advantage. Backing away from him slowly, eyes searching for anything to use as a weapon, though Minho can tell your every move. 

“Did you..did you do that to Seungmin?” You’re near tears. They don’t fall, only brimming along your tear ducts. 

Minho’s jaw clenches at the mention of Seungmin. “You really do care about him, huh? Seungmin this and Seungmin that. I fear your admiration for your lover has made you blind. You have played right into the palm of my hand, little lamb.”

“You want to know where Seungmin is? He’s dead.” Minho laughs. A deep belly laugh. “Though, it wasn’t me who did it.”

“Years ago, I showed Sir Kim something that I thought he could handle, only to find out otherwise. I promised him knowledge, the freedom to view the extensive, valuable, book collection within my library, at any time he chooses; and most importantly, the opportunity to discover something otherworldly—new to him, although very old to me. Something that could provide him everything he’s ever wanted. At least, that’s what this power did for me. Seungmin wanted to become a new man, and I was the only one who could offer that opportunity.”

“Then, two months ago, Seungmin showed up at the door. Exclaiming that while he wasn’t ready in the past, this time he’s ready to surrender his soul. Turns out, it was a ploy to kill me. I should’ve known better, truthfully. Seungmin is smart, almost as cunning as I, and well, he very nearly gave me a run for my money. But let’s just say, how should I put this, I have someone who is willing to do anything I say. Including kill.”

You shake your head in disgust, backing up from Minho; but he pursues.“What are you?”

“I once referred to myself as a God. However, over the years, I realized that I am God. I have seen men with beast-like abilities and looks, men with the ability to rise from the dead, but the simple power of those imbeciles doesn’t even come close to mine. It’s something entirely different.”

“I mean, you read that book didn’t you? A dull-looking half-dead creature with fangs? You’re quite different from Seungmin, but you’re still special. You might not have understood the text, but perhaps, you used context clues?” Minho continues, “You might not have known it, but your fiancé was a part of a very dark world, angel. You see, he was actually the one that wrote the book. And he left you blind to it all, not knowing of his inevitable future. And now, yours.”

Minho winks and moves closer to you with each word, though you take steps back, not wanting to be too close to him. Eventually your back hits the wall and Minho almost pressed against you. His sharp nails come up to your neck, tracing over until he finds exactly what he was looking for, inhaling deeply. 

“Are you going to kill me, too?”

“There,” He taps the tip of his finger against your neck, just above your collarbone. The sharpness of the nail presses into your skin, breaking the initial layer, not deep enough to cause bleeding. “If I put my mouth right here, I could drain all of you in less than six seconds. Kill you? Heavens no, I actually believe that you’re pretty valuable to me.”

Minho looks into your eyes, passing along discomfort in the form of a stare. Then he pouts at you, mockingly. 

“No need to be scared. I mean, it’s not like you can ever leave me, at this point, so it’s best you put your fear aside.” Minho smirks once more. “From the night you’ve arrived, you’ve been drinking my blood. I’m already inside of you. I know every little thought in that pretty little mind of yours, I’m in all of your dreams. And guess what? You will never, ever be able to get rid of me.”

“Now tell me, has Seungmin ever touched you like this?” Minho asks, the tips of his fingers tracing against your neck, palm cupping around your throat, he stands firm behind you. There’s dense heat against Minho’s fingertips and a slight burning sensation from the sharpness of his nails; it’s such an intense feeling, unlike any you’ve experienced before. As electrifying as the feeling of his touch is, it’s also revolting, horrendous. There was a spark whenever Seungmin touched you, but Minho’s touch is different; it burns in all of the right ways. 

“I could give you things Seungmin would have never even dreamt about,” Minho’s voice is soft, silky. The heat of his breath against your skin tickles, but ignites a particular burning of desire. Minho is something similar to the devil and still, despite it all, there’s a familiar heat that creeps up within you. “I could open doors for you that were previously closed. Anything you want, could be yours. All you have to do is accept all of me.”

The hand that had previously been resting against the softness of your belly, is held out for you to accept. You stare down at his hand, biting your lip at the temptation. Minho plants his lips against your neck to give you one small kiss after another. 

For the sake of Seungmin, you want to turn away. If this had been just a few days ago, you would have likely fought in honor of Seungmin. The entire reason you’re even here, in the Count’s castle, is because of Seungmin. And still, in spite of all of that, as much as it makes you feel physically ill, stomach turning at the thought, every single fiber of your being craves Minho. You can feel the heat of your bodies meshed together every time you imagine what it’s like to have him between your legs. When he looks into your eyes, it’s familiar—like home. 

Every alarm is firing off and still, you put your hand in Minho’s—accepting his offer. Minho’s hand interlocks with yours, and you can feel him smile in between his tiny butterfly kisses. His hand holds yours tightly, as if he doesn’t want to let you go. Plump lips dragging against your skin, until he stops momentarily—taking a deep breath. Minho lets out a sharp, rich groan; knees throbbing as he bucks into you. And it’s at that moment you can feel Minho’s cock pressed heavily against your ass. Minho holds you against him, hips moving against your ass slightly, as he breathes in your scent. 

The moment is broken once you feel four razor sharp punctures in your neck. Minho’s low, guttural moans vibrate against your skin as his teeth penetrate layers of skin. The feeling is strange—it stings and burns, but also has a light cooling sensation. 

With the more blood Minho takes, the more his eyes fade into black until the whites are no longer exposed. Minho is absolutely captivated by the taste of your blood. It’s absolutely bewitching. He can taste every memory, every inch of trauma and pain, all of your love and most importantly, Minho can taste a bit of your soul—completely unguarded and vulnerable; ready for him to take and do as he pleases with. 

Minho continues draining you of your blood. It’s around this time that your vision becomes blurry, the room grows disorienting, tipping from side to side with each blink. You’re clutching Minho’s hand as tight as you possibly can be, jaw slacking and freely giving away soft moans. Even though he’s drinking from you, Minho never stops the movement of his hips. Hand clutching your own, pressing your arm against your stomach firmly. His other hand is tight on your hip, holding you in place. Somehow, your body feels both light and heavy, like you’re nailed to your spot but also elevated, floating in space. Your eyelids are getting heavier, a milky white film covering your eyes as Minho continues to take and take from you.

By the time you feel like your legs are going to give out, Minho gives up on drinking from you. “I can’t believe you’ve been hidden from me all this time, my little lamb.”

Minho whispers into your ear, voice equal parts soft and sweet. The way he can easily slip between calm and composed and dominant and overbearing is scary. 

“Let’s make this official, what do you say, love?” It’s less of a statement and more of a demand. Minho bites into his wrist, pushing it towards your mouth. But you refuse, attempting to turn away, though Minho does not allow it. Forcing your mouth open with his other hand, fingers dipping into your mouth, watching with a smirk on his face as droplets of his blood drip into your mouth one by one. 

There’s not really any significant taste to Minho’s blood. Indeed, his blood is thicker than water—but also very smooth going down. Minho spins you around, lips fast against yours. This kiss is full of iron and spit, completely messy, tongues fighting against each other. You, surprisingly to Minho, are the one who deepens the kiss further, pressing your body against his. Hands running all over his body, tugging against his clothes. 

You can feel yourself changing rapidly. Inside of you is a particular burning passion that you haven’t felt in years. It’s amplified when Minho’s fingers trickle up and down your sides. When the kiss parts, you and Minho lock eyes. Your chest rises, breathing in deeply because the room has gotten a hell of a lot hotter—or is the oxygen leaving your lungs? 

Minho takes the lead this time, pushing you atop of the sofa. He stands over you almost menacingly, clouds of lust like darkness clouding his eyes. He takes the chest of his shirt and tears it in half with two hands, as easily as it takes one to blink. He lets the shirt fall from his body, pulling his arms from the sleeves. Unbuttoning his pants just slightly before he kneels on the couch beside you. His lips on yours once again, though briefly. Minho takes the fabric of your clothing and tears it in two, just as he did his own shirt. You’re completely exposed to him, completely naked beneath his stare. You put your arms up to shield your indecency, but Minho doesn’t allow it. Taking your wrists in his hands and pinning you to the comfort of the sofa. 

Holding your wrists with one hand, Minho holds your jaw in his other hand. “Wish you could see how heavenly you look right now.” 

At this moment, Minho decides that you’re the closest he’ll ever get to heaven. So does he worship this embodiment of a higher place? Or does he further defile it? Should he ravish you? Perhaps he should take his claim over a body and soul that is now his forever. The worship may come a little later. He looks down at you, a frenzied little fledgling overtaken by uncontainable lust. A near mirroring reflection of sin itself. You pupils are completely blown and the whites of your eyes grow into a red color. He stands tall above you, like a God. Eyes of lust looking back at you, so deeply into the crevices of what’s left in your soul. 

You claw up at Minho, wanting to feel him. Wanting to be comforted by the glory that is Minho. The Ultimate Being—your master. 

“Imagine if Seungmin were to see you like this, intoxicated with such lust—and none of it towards him,” Minho kissed over the spot where he bit you, planting more kisses against your neck. “Would he be pathetic? A coward who cums in his pants at the sight of another man touching you?”

Minho’s lips move from your collarbone to your chest, displaying a range of kisses against your skin. “Or would he demean you for disgracing him in such a way? Would he call you a whore at the sight of you, turning his face in disgust?” 

Minho continues talking in between kisses against your skin. Lips kissing down the valley of your breast as his left hand creeps up to fondle your left breast. You moan at his touch, the coolness of his skin against the heat of yours. Minho looks up at you. “My precious little lamb isn’t a whore, are you?”

You shake your head vigorously at Minho’s statement. He can only laugh at you. He doesn’t believe it and deep inside, you don’t believe yourself either. 

“Your whole purpose of being here was to find your fiancé, and instead, you’re beneath me and dripping onto the chaise. That doesn’t sound like something someone who’s not a whore would do, does it, little lamb?” 

You shake your head in denial. Reaching up to him, dragging the tips of your fingers down his chest. With each exhale, with each minute that goes by, it becomes harder and harder to fight your cravings. Thrusting your hips up, gyrating in the air, trying to entice Minho into touching you. Unable to sort the words in your head to form a coherent sentence. 

“But you’re fine with being a whore aren’t you?” Minho nods, pouting just slightly. When you’re not nodding along with him, he grabs you by your hair, forcing you to nod along with him. “What a good little lamb. From here on out, you’ll only be a whore for me, ok?”

Minho releases your hair from his clutches. Licking his palm, he drags it down from your navel to your cunt, pausing a moment to bury his fingers within the hair on your mound, slightly tugging at it. He teases you for the moment; fingertips feathering lighting against the skin of your inner thighs. He brings his fingers back to your cunt, dragging down your slit, teasing into your wetness. Minho circles over your clit with two fingers, watching your face as you bite your lip. Two of his fingers slowly slip inside of you soon after, thick, already knuckle deep inside of you. 

Minho’s free hand finds a new position, tightening around your neck. The roughness of his hands is missed when he slides his hand down your chest, cupping your breast. He leans down, sucking your nipple into his mouth, coating it with saliva, teeth slightly grazing against it. He continues scissoring his fingers into you, thumb pressing down flat against your clit. Minho moves his thumb in tender circles, still applying pressure. Swollen lips leave a mess of spit on your breast, dripping onto his hand. 

He lifts his head from his original position, eyes covering every inch of you. Once his eyes land on your cunt, Minho kneels—a quick kiss planted at your clit before he attaches his mouth to it, sucking you in. Warm, wet mouth slurping and licking, voice vibrating against your cunt. You moan into your hand, but Minho snatches it away; a quick, stern look up at you. The more he hears your moans, the sluttier and messier that Minho gets; moving away slightly to spit against your cunt, watching as it drips down to his fingers. All before he’s back at it, slurping and moaning against your cunt. 

“Fucking cum,” Minho talks into your cunt. He speaks his demand into you. The climax hits you hard, cum spraying all over Minho’s face, even drenching a bit of his hair. It takes Minho and yourself by surprise, and you’re almost ready to cover your face in your hands, but Minho flashes the most gorgeous smile to you. Face soaked, licking his lips to taste more of you. 

If he wasn’t firm about his desire to devour and conquer you, he was now. Minho fully undresses himself, cock hard and heavy, leaking and aching to be buried inside of you. It’s like your minds come together. Just with a touch you know the things that Minho wants to do to you. Your desires are equal and because of it, you’re a step ahead of him. Your eyes land on him, completely sucking into the visual of his cock. Large but not too veiny, a shade or two darker than the rest of his skin and it’s absolutely glorious. He’s thick, the tip of his cock heavy and shining with precum. It’s hard to keep your appetite for lust contained, and for a moment, you wonder why you’re even holding back—you’ve seen just a glimpse of freedom, is it too much to indulge and savor the taste of what you’re becoming? 

Your movements are faster than what the logical part of your brain can comprehend. One moment you’re spread open and the next, you’re straddling Minho, hand caressing his face. Minho looks at you with such an insatiable gaze. He hadn’t read it in the cards that you could possibly take control of the situation, and it enthralls him—what a wonder you are. You grind against his cock, sliding your slick cunt across his shaft. Pressing your hands to his chest for balance, adjusting the speed of your grinding until you’ve finally found the spot that sets off the fireworks within your brain. Unfortunately, it’s not enough for Minho, grabbing your hips and pressing you onto his cock, controlling your movements. Other than the added pressure, Minho guides your hips just a tad bit faster. 

Sliding up, you reach behind to hold Minho’s cock into your hand. It has a bit of weight to it and is slick with your juices. You tap the head of his cock against your cunt a time or two, then slowly sink down, engulfing him into your cunt. The thickness of his cock gives you a fervent sensation, cunt fluttering to take more of him, inch by inch. 

You throw your head back as you continue riding Minho. There's a brief, but slight sting of pain when you open your mouth to moan. When you look towards Minho, mouth agape, he looks back at you with such adoration and awe—the first time you felt his genuineness for something other than rage.  Minho helps you continue to ride him, his hands on your hips to guide you up and down his cock. You bring your tongue up to lick your lips when you finally notice the feeling of the fangs protruding from your gums. 

The feeling of exhilaration encompasses your whole being. You can’t help but let out a laugh at the current situation. You feel elated. You feel powerful. Pure and utter bliss slowly peeking out beneath the many layers of lust. 

“Bite me, my dear, go ahead.” Minho reassures you, a hand soothingly rubbing against your thigh. 

You indulge in the opportunity. Sinking completely down on Minho’s cock, crying out at the sensation of being filled by him. You press your nose against his neck, breathing in Minho’s scent before you sink your fangs into his skin. You can feel the shift in your eyes when you drink from him. His blood tastes immaculate like this. What divine nectar he carries within. It’s insanely sweet—not exactly in a tart or sugary way; he tastes similar to fresh fruit. 

You continue to drink from him, tongue licking haphazardly, unwilling to let any of Minho’s blood go to waste. 

From his blood to his cock, Minho is all around you. You feel so full of him, and you are in every sense of the word. His arms wrap around you, caging you in as you take your time feeding from him. He moves a hand between the two of your bodies, thumb pressed against your clit to rub in circles. You gentle rock against him, slowly increasing the speed of your hips once you realize you’re fairly latched onto him. Unwilling to free him from your hold, you would die like this if needed. 

Your climax hits you and transforms you into such a state of pure ecstasy. Every nerve in your body is electrified, and the blood of Minho amplifies that. Minho has you under a spell: blood coursing through your veins, cock pinned deep, spilling his cum inside of you. He’s so cold to touch, but you’re both on fire. It’s way too much yet you’re still captivated by him. Sent into overdrive, your body gets heavier—it's hard to control and you continue to take and take from Minho. It’s no problem to him, though; hand on your back to soothe as your body becomes stiff atop of him.

You awake in Minho’s arms, not completely sure of where you exactly are. The second you open your eyes, you’re not nearly ready for how extraordinarily bright the lights in the room are. You groan in response, but Minho is alert to soothe you. 

“Be still, my little flower.” Minho is whispering, purposefully; he knows first-hand how troubling it can be to be reawakened like this. But still, his voice rings around your head. 

How strange. You can hear every little sound a lot clearer, a lot louder. The initially faint crackling of the fireplace now louder than before despite the distance. The heat of the fire reaches you as well, blazing, although it does not stick. The ticking of the clock is a doomful reminder of the passage of time. Then you look at Minho, and you can hear how hollow he is. There’s an absence within him, a huge, dark, cavernous hole. He is nothing more than a host for whatever this disease is that he has given you. A man without a soul. 

And still. He holds the entire world in his hands. 

“There’s so much I have to teach you,” Minho expresses this with great excitement. He presses a chalice of blood to your lips and just a whiff of the smell puts you in a daze; salivating and feigning to taste. “Now here, drink up.”

© PLANETDREAM 2024

[blkkizzat]

ღ𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟!𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 ღ

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐

18+ONLY MDNI

kizzatober series: Thrilling Ghouls

Kinktober Prompts: Breeding, Dacryphilia, Aphrodisiac Synopsis: Catching him in a lie, you suspect your boyfriend Toji is cheating on you. Where does he keep disappearing to once a month that keeps him away for often days at a time. You're fed up. You've made up your mind this time to follow him but are you ready for what you discover? CW: AU. Most warnings for P2 really. Slightly dubcon-y. Bully/mean/teasing Toji. Bratty/crazy gf reader. Rough sex. Drug ref. Werewolf transformation but this isn't that furry shit lol. Omegaverse themes I borrow heavily from but I'm not following the rules of it faithfully (I don't even know them myself lol) WC: 4k of 10.4k Lightly black fem coded but no descriptors.

A/N: This one took a bit longer expected as I recently caught a cold, boooo! But I'm realizing even in my fics I intend to be PWPs I still need to set the mood and a plot springs forth lmfao. Plus I had fun actually trying to write a bit of horror in too! I decided to split into 2 parts because of the delay already.

Big shout out to an irl bestie @sairotonin for drawing a sketch of Werewolf!Toji for her inktober for me to use in my gfx. TY sis you a real one!!

Enjoy!

“In the next 500ft, turn left.”

This was going to be the third goddamn left the car navigation told you to take in the last 20 minutes. You were ninety-nine percent sure you had been going in circles and were now lost as shit at night in the middle of nowhere. 

You glance at your phone sitting in the dash-caddy. 

One measly bar. 

The further you traveled, the more the service bars were dwindling as well. 

Shit, you had 3 full bars last time you looked.

Opting to keep ahead straight instead of turning, you cross-check your destination via the spy monitoring app you had shamelessly downloaded on your boyfriend Toji’s phone.

Toji’s current location was 45 miles outside of the city and it had been a good 10 miles since you last saw any kind of highway. The area you were in was a mix between nature reserve and private property so not even GPS could pin down the exact directions to his whereabouts. 

Sigh. 

You had never wanted to be That Girl™. 

You know, the ones who would sneak peaks at their boyfriend’s phones, were super insecure about any interaction their man had with the opposite sex and ran down on them while they were out to catch them in the act of cheating. 

But you were a woman at the end of her rope.

What else could you do?

For a few days every month Toji would simply disappear. 

The various excuses he gave usually centered around his work. You didn’t know exactly what he did, but you knew enough to know most of it was dangerous and wasn’t what good society would consider legal.  

Toji had scolded you before for asking too many details. 

For your own safety.

He would say with an arrogant smirk.

But even when working you had always been able to get a hold of him after a few hours. It was just this one particular job he would completely drop off the face of the earth for. It annoyed you, sure, but Toij’s work never followed him home so you didn't have complaints.  

That is, until you had finally moved-in with him and Megumi.

Truly, you were already like a little family.

Megumi, who had just recently started preschool, had been quick to warm up to you ever since you and Toji first introduced you to him a few months prior to that. 

But living together pushed things to a whole other level. Megumi would follow you around like a lost pup and often opted to sit in your lap rather than Toji’s.

Not to mention throw a near fit if you weren’t the one to tuck him in goodnight. (Toji would never admit he was a bit jealous and would only grumble slightly that it was less of a hassle for him if you did it so you should just do it from now on).

You never even realized you had such a mothering instinct, being on the same page as Toji about no more kids, until you looked into those little emerald eyes of Gumi’s and absolutely melted. 

You had grown so close that the little boy unknowingly let it slip once while Toji was MIA on that job, that he was glad Daddy went on his daddy breaks once a month so you both could have fun together by yourselves.

You tried to keep your reactions in check for Megumi but that revelation completely shook you. 

A “daddy break” didn’t sound much like a work trip to you which spiked your anxiety and caused you to spiral into overthinking. 

Did he need a break from you too as well?

You couldn't very well grill a 4-year old and you didn’t have the nerve to just ask Toji straight out. 

So you did the only thing you could think of at the time and that was to complain to your good friend Tsukumo over drinks a few days later after Toji returned.

Tsukumo, who always seemed to have the wrong answer for everything, simply told you to do the ‘smart’ thing and download a monitoring app on his phone that would log is calls, texts and whereabouts. 

You initially balked at her.

Tracking Toji had never crossed your mind.

Outside of this, Toji had never given you a reason to doubt him and you wanted to respect his privacy and trust, especially trust as you knew he didn’t let many people get close to him at all.

True, he wasn’t exactly the most forthcoming man you ever dated. You were well aware he had his many skeletons as well as ex-hookups. But Toji for the most part had been content with his gambling then coming home to you and Megumi. 

He wasn’t the type to ‘run the streets with the boys (he had no boys tbh), you had only ever known him to have the occasional drink with Shiu when he wasn’t out gambling.

You had almost refused to do such a thing… That is until Tsukumo posed the question: 

What’s more important Y/N– your peace of mind or his trust? 

And Y/N, is trust really what’s important here at all if he is in fact already taking advantage of yours?

Touché. 

Tsukumo had you there.

“Besides, you think that old dinosaur is even going to notice an extra app on his phone in the first place?” 

Tsukumo quipped, throwing back a shot of sake and jiggling the empty container at the bartender for more.

“You just got rid of his old flip phone last year. I’m surprised he can even use a touchscreen without punching a hole through it. Just delete the app once you’ve seen what you needed to see.”

Tsukumo gave you this advice like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Ignoring her digs at Toji’s age, and maybe it was the 3 bottles of sake the both of you had blown through in the last hour, but you were starting to think she might be onto something. 

“Mmm, on second thought, might as well keep it on there. Men like Fushiguro are dogs that need to be kept on tight leashes.”

Tsukumo grinned at you with a wink before turning her attention back to the bartender.

You still didn’t know then if you would actually go through with it.

Nevertheless, here you are now at 11:15 PM at night about to pull up on your boyfriend thanks to Tsukumo’s advice to find out once and for all if Toji was cheating on you.

You had dropped Megumi off at his best friend Yuji’s for the night, thanking Yuji’s parents for watching him and feeling guilty for lying to them that you and Toji had a date night. 

Almost there.

You are within 2 miles of arriving at the vicinity of where the monitoring app says Toji is.

However, your anxieties were getting the best of you as you drove in near tears.

You turn up your music louder, the booming bass distracting you from how much darker and creepier it gets the further you drive into the wooded area. 

Sighing again, you had no idea how this would turn out but you knew the result would determine whether you would be listening to Positions by Ariana Grande or Playing Games by Summer Walker on repeat during the drive back. 

☠

Barely a half mile later, you see the engine light of your car flash. The pungent odor of burning oil fills the car as a plume of smoke escapes out from under the hood.

Goddamn it, Toji. 

“Y/N, make sure to go get ‘er an oil change while I’m gone. Ya got like 15 good miles left on ‘er.”                                                                                                                                  Toji’s voice rang in your mind. 

Well the big lunk he was wrong.

You had driven at least 33 miles so far.

You mentally cussed him again. 

Toji was the one who was supposed to change your oil, he used your car more than you did. Only opting to use his own blacked out unplated and unlicensed car for jobs like he was on now.  

You wouldn’t have even left the house if it wasn’t for his sketchy cheating headass. 

Okay, so you hadn’t exactly confirmed that just yet, but you were pissed and until you confirmed otherwise, right now he was a cheater and everything about this situation was his fault.

Pulling over to the side of the dirt road before you caused further damage to your car, you weighed your options.

Option 1: Call AAA

You had zero bars though. 

Fuck. 

Option 2: Wait here in the safety of the car until morning.

You would still have zero bars and you might miss Toji, making this whole trip fruitless.

If he beat you home in the morning and found you gone with Megumi at Yuji’s with the sad excuse for a 'date night' lie you gave, you would never hear the end of it.

He would taunt you into oblivion that your silly ass drove all the way up here unto the woods for your car to break down cause you were too busy being a psycho bitch to remember to get an oil change.

Option 3: Walk on foot the rest of the way to Toji.

Really the only viable option you had. 

It was a good 12 miles or so back to the highway, you didn’t know how many turns you had made since then and you doubt you could make it back on foot anyway. If you were going to walk a few miles to get service again you might as well walk to where Toji was.

Sure if he wasn’t cheating you would still get ridiculed, but at least you could get a ride home. 

And if he was cheating, you would hot wire his car (one of the few useful things he did teach you) and that motherfucker and his whore could find their own way home.

Resolving yourself to walk, you put on Toji's hoodie that fortunately was still in the backseat from him last using your car to go to the gym. 

You really should have put more thought into planning this before you left. Besides Toji’s oversized worn hoodie that reached your mid-thighs all you were wearing was a thin white shirt and black spandex shorts. 

You didn’t even have sneakers or boots, as you looked down at your fuzzy black slippers you mostly only wore outside to run short errands like dropping off Megumi at preschool or picking up groceries. 

Thankfully, you did have a small flashlight in the glove compartment though in case of emergencies like this.

Flashlight in tow, you step outside of your stalled car and immediately suck in a worried breath as the weight of the chilly night settles over you like a heavy cloak.

You only have a mile and a half trek but the dirt road that stretches out before you looks endless as it disappears into the obscurity of the thick shroud of fog surrounding you. 

The flashlight doesn’t do much to cut through the intense density of condensation. You had only made it a mere 20 feet from your car but you can just barely make out its faint outline.

Swallowing, you put on your bravest face and fix your gaze forward. 

The reflections of your flashlight casts shifty patterns on the mist in your peripheral vision and you do your best to ignore the chill that creeps up your shoulders. 

“Fuck you, Toji.” 

You mumble half-heartedly, pulling the hood over head.

You didn’t really mean it though. Would-be-cheater or not more than anything you wished he was here with you now. 

You were freezing, tired and all you could think about was how warm and safe you would feel in Toji’s arms. Even if you were mad at him. 

You pick up the pace, wanting to get to him sooner. 

Almost more unnerving than the fog itself, the forest around you is as quiet as a grave.

There are no chirps of crickets, nor hoots of owls. 

Not even in the crisp cold of fall does the wind rustle through the trees, everything is silent.

The haunting nature around you seems to hold its breath as if it knows you're an unwelcome intruder who has trespassed too far.

You don’t dare peer into the trees which look taller in the darkness, closing in tightly on the dirt road. They are ghastly silhouettes of their former selves blocking any moonlight to help guide your way. 

You shiver as you feel as if you are being watched from a distance.

The only noise you hear is the soft crunching of rocks and leaves beneath your feet with every unsure step you take forward. 

You can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of dread as a stray tear runs down your cheek.

You couldn’t get to Toji soon enough. 

Though you still didn’t have any service the GPS updated as much as it could in roaming, you were so close.

As you continue forward a shadow on the path catches your eye in the foggy distance. 

Your heart quickens as you inch closer, your anticipation mingling with fear.

Shapes soon begin to take form and the harsh reality dawns upon you.

A pack of wolves. 

Their shadowy figures coalesce before you through the fog as they take stock of you.

You start to feel queasy as you see their red-stained muzzles dripping with the blood of their latest kill. The grotesque carcass of a deer practically stripped to the bone lay lifeless under their enormous paws. 

Their eyes, fierce and predatory, meet yours with a chilling intensity as the feeble beam of your flashlight washes over them. The deer, although large, you know is not enough to quell hunger from beasts of their size.

With a shaky breath you slowly retreat, not wanting to further agitate their already aggravated predatory senses. 

Then you hear it.

From what seems to be the darkest reaches of the night, a sound reverberates from the trees, through the forest and beyond that's unlike anything you've ever heard before. 

The howl that tears through the stillness is so chilling you instantly feel the lamentation that carries the weight of centuries of primal power down in the very marrow of your bones.

Even the wolves snap their heads to attention and bow their heads as if the sound announced the presence of a creature much higher on the food chain... something more ancient and malevolent…

...something terrifyingly unhuman.

The body racking shiver you experience is so intense it has you sprinting at full speed before your mind, frozen from fear, can even process you are moving. 

You burst through the dense trees, leaving the road as your heart pounds like a drum in your chest and tears stream freely down your cheeks to soak the edge of Toji’s sweatshirt.

The tangled underbrush of the forest whips the soft skin of your legs and the forest itself seems to conspire against you as you navigate the obstacle course of branches, logs and large rocks all seemingly with a mission to slow you down.

You can hear the chilling howls of the wolves you saw on the road call out behind you, giving chase. 

The sounds of their footfalls grow closer with every passing second.

Terrifying as they are, they hold no candle against the howl that sent you running and your body continues to propel you forward. 

Panic frazzles your senses and you make the tragic error of trying to steal a glance back behind you before directly colliding with a large cedar.

Groaning from the impact you reel as you try to gather yourself, clinging to the tree for support. 

You hear a twig snap behind you and you whirl around as you are faced with a largest gray wolf out of the pack who had been chasing you. 

The alpha wolf’s teeth glint menacingly as their breath escapes in visible puffs in the frigid night air. 

Too late to try to make a run for it again, you whimper as you resign yourself to your fate. You slid down the large tree to bury your face in your knees.

Was this it?

Was this how you died?

You weren’t even able to see Toji after coming all this way. 

You also wanted to be able to hug Megumi one last time and maybe knock the daylights out of Tsukumo for her horrible ass idea. 

But ultimately this was all your fault. 

You could be snuggled up with Gumi on the sofa with snacks watching Anpanman but your dumbass had to go galavanting off into the middle of the woods like a fucking lunatic and now you’re about to be eaten by a wolf.

You could feel the wolf’s overbearing presence as it approached you but you couldn’t bear to look up. You’d rather spend your final moments thinking of Toji and Megumi. 

Yet despite your impending doom, your head did snap up once you felt a rough tongue gently lick your ankles and curiously sniff at the ends of Toji's hoodie covering your legs. 

The wolf was more than intimidating up close as its giant muzzle was the size of your entire head.

However the wolf regarded you cautiously like it almost recognized you before releasing its own chillingly deep howl and promptly running off.

Wait– T-The hell?!

You sat there at the trunk of the tree trying to process the interaction that just took place but you didn’t have much time to ponder as you heard something else approaching you rapidly.

The sound of snapping twigs and heavy, uneven footfalls don’t seem to be that of a wolf, renewing the sensation of dread through your body. 

Your heart races in your chest as the ominous sounds of the being looming evermore closer become more pronounced.

From the shadows emerges a monstrous figure.

The fog doesn’t reach this deep into the forest and the moonlight that peeks between the trees glimmers on its enlarged taut muscles. 

Its eyes, red, burn like fiery amber. 

Fierce and resolute you can see them pierce through the darkness long before you can make out any features of the creature's face.

What you think upon first glance must be a demonic apparition from your worst nightmares ends up being– 

Toji?!

As he steps into a beam of moonlight, the transformation before you is complete. 

Toji’s once-human and feet hands have become formidable claws with nails like blades, his face remains mostly unchanged with the exception of his mouth which in his snarl reveals rows of gleaming, razor-sharp teeth.

He is still mostly human in appearance but you can tell he stands taller, nearly 8 feet.

The thicker body hair on his forearms bristles with raw power.

He was completely bare save for the tattered jeans barely hanging on his body that had torn from the sheer size of his enormous muscularity in this form.

Each step he takes towards you makes your heart skip a beat yet you stare transfixed, unable to look away and your tears increase.

Was this terrifying otherworldly apparition the boyfriend you had been searching for?

Time stands still in that haunting moment as Toji’s eyes bore into your soul with a predatory intensity. 

His hunger and primal instincts radiates off of him like a palpable force. 

“T-T-Toji?” 

You cautiously inquire through your quiet sobs. 

“Y/N?! What the fuck do you think y’er doing out here?” 

Toji snarls back at you. His growl seems to cause the very atmosphere to vibrate and the earth beneath you quakes as your body involuntarily quivered with fear. 

Toji thought he must have been losing his goddamn mind when he caught onto your scent earlier but here you were like a lost little lamb to the slaughter before him.

He came out onto the woods to be alone, away from civilization and away from you and Megumi during his monthly transformations. 

It was safer that way, for all of you.

You had been fortunate the local wolf pack had acknowledged him as their Alpha and recognized his scent on you.

But there were far worse dangers in the forest besides them.

Toji wouldn’t be able to protect you like he was now. 

Not with you needing protection from him too.

Protection from him as not only was it a full moon, it was a harvest moon, a mating moon. 

The primal urge to rip you apart was only truncated by the more intense carnal urge to mate with you. Toji wanted to claim you as his and fuck you so hard into the girthy cedar behind you the entire tree would topple over by its roots.

He had wanted to claim you as his mate for a while now.

Even moved you in with him and Megumi as the final step but you couldn’t wait for that, could you? 

You had managed to track him somehow all the way out here and throw his whole plan into the shitter. 

He could barely control himself in this form as it is and now your scent, blubbering cries and the fucking harvest moon were sending him with full force into a fierce rut. 

“T-Toji w-what is this!? W-what’s happened to you!? W-what are you doing out here?!” 

Worry saturates your voice as you choke out your questions in rapid fire cries not giving him time to even respond.

Toji fights the predatory instinct in him who sees you as his prey and if your gaze wasn’t so focused on trying to read his face for answers you surely would have noticed him fully bricked near bursting out of his worn jeans.

You looked so appetizing. 

He needed you.

However, Toji could tell your nerves were completely shot and the slightest twitch of his muscles toward you had you almost jumping out of your skin like a little bunny rabbit.

“Y-Y/N…” 

His voice strained itself into a murmur as he attempted to do his best to lull you into some sort of security so he could explain things calmly to you.

Yet the way he was near salivating, drool dripping from his canines as he panted and towered over you did anything but make you feel secure. 

You mistook his lust for bloodthirstiness.

“Just calm down. It’s OK.”

Toji needed you to be calm like he needed you to take steadier breaths if he was going to successfully win the tumultuous war he was fighting against his instincts to pounce on you. 

There is an oppressive tension between the two of you and he can tell you are also fighting against your fight or flight reflexes.

Good girl. 

It would be disastrous if you did something foolish, no telling what might happen then.

But unfortunately for the both of you, your fits of emotion and impulses are what had your crazy ass out here in the first place. 

The pressure had officially gotten to you. 

Toji’s lies, your car, the woods, the wolves, everything leading up to this point bubbled over because the last thing you wanted to be told right now was to ‘just calm down’.

You snapped. 

“Ok? OK?! OKAY?!...TOJI WHAT THE FUCK ABOUT THIS IS O.K. RIGHT NOW!?”

You were practically hysterical as you yelled at him, momentarily forgetting your fears of Toji’s new form.

The trigger of being told to 'calm down' in a situation where you clearly had every right to feel every fucking emotion you wanted won out over everything else.

“MY CAR BROKE DOWN BECAUSE OF YOU DOING GOD KNOWS WHAT WITH WHOEVER THE FUCK OUT HERE, I LITERALLY WAS JUST CHASED BY WOLVES, ALMOST EATEN, AND Y-YOU… Y-YOU-”

A crackling snap came from above you and you realized Toji’s claws had completely ripped a large chunk out of the tree right above your head.

Your tantrum had in turn pushed him over the edge as well. 

His irises flared intensely at you as you quivered under his gaze in fear.

He would have you but first, he would play with you a bit.

Things never happened the easy way with you.

Yet, that’s also exactly the way Toji liked it too. That's why he'd put up with you thus far.

A malevolent smirk dons Toji's features as his simple command issues an unsettling tremor running down into the depths of your being.

“Run.”

P2 HERE!

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ

A/N: Count on Tsukumo to always given the wrong fuckin’ advice. Lmfao! Or was it the right advice in this case? Hmm we will see what happens next!

Smutty goodness in the next part. This part was just to set the horror mood!

I promise this fic isn't as nearly as long as Ghostface!Choso. It's looking to be about 8k total and I have 3.5k of P2 finished lol.

Reblog if you are both submissive and breedable for Werewolf!Toji, but likes and comments are appreciated all the same!

ღTaglistღ:

@callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @briefrebelfanalmond @nikkitc0703 & @dancingwithdeities (prone bone coming in p2 just for u sweets!) LMK below if you would like to be tagged in P2. For all kizzatober fic tags comment on m.list.

[leonenjoyer69]

After sitting half finished for forever, I finally present Lanyon's Mindscape!

I spent quite a while coming up with everything and developing things in a way that connected very heavily to Lanyon's character (as well as Elias's) for my Lanyon Takes the Potion AU, so I'm very happy to finally share it! I mentioned it a while ago on the QnA with @arythusa , but here's the whole long summary!

I have a reason for each and every detail and choice, so if you have any questions, leave them in the reblogs or comments and I promise you I would LOVE to answer them :3 also, reblogs would be very appreciated, I put a lot of work into this <3

Now, let's begin!

The Mindscape

A twisting mansion of halls, doors, and spiraling staircases, Lanyon's mindscape is a vast, extravagant space.

Most of the mindscape has an inherent purple hue; grand chandeliers also bathe the upper, more "frequented" areas in a golden light. However, the deeper you travel, the more sparse these golden lights become.

Lanyon doesn't have the same odd "compartmentalization" abilities that Jekyll does, leaving his mindscape much messier and more confusing, with very little of it being any sort of "organized". Furthermore Lanyon hasn't ripped himself down to a shell of a person like Jekyll has; nor does he suffer from the same self hatred as Jekyll and Hyde, making his mindscape much more lively.

Residents of the mindscape include mind versions of: Jekyll, Everly, Lanyon Sr., Lanyon's mother (though she acts as more of a ghost,) the shadow people, and the Nightmares™.

THE ROOMS AND LAYOUT

THE HALLS

The halls are long and confusingly twisty, covered in unmarked doors, blurry portraits, and golden chandeliers, as well as other occasional decorations and clutter. There are very few doors that actually stand out enough to know they're special, like the ballroom, greenhouse, library, alchemy room, and Lanyon Sr's office. Most of the special rooms are near the surface, never moving, as their influence on Lanyon's character and memories are too strong to be moved from near the subconscious.

Memories, however, do tend to shuffle around a bit, even moving between floors depending on how much Elias or Lanyon is thinking of it. This shuffling has the ability to bring nightmares up from deeper levels to the more "safe" ones.

Many of the halls tend to lead in circles or straight into dead ends, and some doors simply lead to more hallways.

THE POCKET WATCH

To combat the twisting and turning, Elias eventually realizes that his "broken" pocket watch acts more like a compass, pointing him in the general direction of where he wishes to go. Mindkyll also has a pocket watch like this, being one of the more mobile mind people (despite his slight limp.)

The pocket watch has the normal larger clock face, as well as a smaller one for "seconds". The hands all spin aimlessly until a destination is thought of. The hour and minute hands work together for general direction like a compass, while the seconds tell the level, with straight up/forward being a higher level, down being a lower level, and horizontal being the current floor. Elias only figured this out with Mindkyll's help.

Elias, Lanyon, and Mindkyll all have an inherent attachment to their given watches, and when they're in other hands or removed from their persons, they feel more lost and confused, as if they have brain fog.

THE LIBRARY

Lanyon spends a decent bit of his free time reading and watching plays and productions, so it only makes sense for him to have a grand library filled with the fleeting memories of these pasttimes.

The bookshelves are oppressively tall, and despite the number of books and scripts, most of them aren't quite readable, since their words have been at least partially forgotten. However, there are a decent few books that are mostly filled out, namely favourite stories or plays he's ingested, old school books (thanks to Jekyll's influence,) and partially filled out journals or phrases that stuck with him, either from other people or things he's told himself.

Additionally, there is a reading nook with a fireplace in one of the corners, since reading is a comfort he hasn't abandoned.

THE MUSIC ROOM

The music room is a cozy space with a few chairs, a fire place, a grand piano, other various instruments, and sheet music strewn and hung about. There's also a couple of paintings, but they're covered mostly in music sheets. One of the other notable instruments is a violin, though it doesn't get used until Elias comes around.

This room is where Mind Everly spends most of her time, when not in the greenhouse, of course. Most of the music pieces are either nonsensical, or genuine ones that the real Everly has played for Robert.

This room becomes a sort of safe space for Elias after certain...events.

THE BALLROOM

The ballroom is a large, extravagant 2 story room. The floor/lower space has walls lined with windows, bringing a golden light to the whole room. However, nothing can be seen on the other side of the windows. Pillars sit between a few of them, holding up a large, wrap-around balcony-- I.e the second floor. The lower space also has a large circular design in the middle of the floor.

The second floor also has windows, as well as a few doors-- one of which leads into Lanyon Sr's office, since Lanyon viewed the tie between his fathers work and status so strongly, both becoming his whole life.

Because of how much of Lanyons life was built around balls and gatherings, the room is filled with shadowy upper class folk, all with somewhat blury features. They tend to act quite mindlessly, seemingly at least somewhat under Mindkyll's Beck and call, but they do dance together and murmur nonsensical, unsettling things to each other. They don't say anything that can be made out, but their growing judgement towards anything odd in the ballroom and overlapping voices can cause panic quite easily.

This room is frequented by both Mindkyll and Mind Lanyon Sr. Mindkyll tends to roam around, framing and dancing with the shadow people, while Mind Lanyon Sr stays on the balcony above, ever watching and judging what goes on below.

THE GREENHOUSE/GARDEN

An overgrown greenhouse filled with various vines, shrubs, and flowers (with occasional symbolism). there's an area for plants directly in the ground, as well as tables covered in pots, metal rafters with hanging pots, and a couple of trellises. The room is mostly all glass-- which still can't be seen through, but gives a warm, comforting glow to the room. There's also a glass table, which seats 2, and a little nook in one of the corners.

A lot of the flowers tend to change, as well as "randomly" bloom and wilt.

Elias likes to spend a lot of time just sitting in this room, occasionally with mind Everly. He also likes cutting back the overgrowth, but it always comes back. He eventually starts to keep track of how the flowers change as well.

THE ALCHEMY LAB

Based heavily around Jekyll's office and Alchemy-covered university desk, the lab is a dark, candle-lit room cluttered with alchemy equipment, books, and potions. There's an odd green fog in the air, making it one of the only rooms that isn't bathed in purple or gold.

This is the other room Mind Jekyll tends to frequent, usually experimenting or organizing his things. Lanyon and Elias both try to avoid this room, as the air feels uncomfortably heavy and tainted.

THE OFFICE

Lanyon's personal office, though it's quite lacking in furniture. The room mainly consists of a desk, chair, scattered books, and a lone, curtained window. The walls are covered in portraits (mainly of his father) and the desk is littered with bills and paperwork. The room seems almost abandoned, at least until Elias comes around to it.

THE UNIVERSITY DORM ROOM

A memory of his dorm room with Jekyll. The window seems to give a faint blue light, though the curtain usually covers it (symbolizing how he hid the relationship and his feelings.)

Jekyll's desk has a few alchemy things scattered on it, as well as text books. There are bunk beds, but the top looks unused.

There are various objects in the room that trigger a memory when they're interacted with, since many core memories were made in the room, buried or not.

LANYON SR'S OFFICE

A large, oppressive office, lit primarily by the two windows. The shelves and tables are covered with books and paperwork. Mirrors litter the walls (symbolizing Lanyon's similarities to his father), as well as portraits.

Mind Lanyon Sr obviously frequents this room, doing random work and reading. The room is also directly connected to the second floor of the ballroom, high above everyone else to show how Lanyon believed his father to put himself and his work above everyone else. Lanyon tends to avoid this room, and the second floor of the ballroom in general, as it makes him feel exposed. Elias also tends to avoid this room, as it makes him feel small.

THE CHARACTERS

ELIAS WRIGHT (LANYON'S HJ7 ALTER)

His outfit gives a more "working class" feel, inspired by his father's youth. They're also far more comfortable than Lanyon's usual clothes, so Elias doesn't mind them too much. The outfit somewhat symbolizes Elias's working spirit, as well as his yearning for his Father's approval via following in his footsteps (to a certain degree), acting as a sort of errand boy around the society/for Jekyll. They also make him look ungentlemanly, simple, and weak, making him stand out in the mindscape.

He has a "broken" pocket watch on him at all times, which he instinctively feels very protective over, as it's somewhat linked to his being.

Additionally, in memories he can "take the spot" of Lanyon, letting the memory compulse him on how to move. He likes doing this to feel like he's still Lanyon-- like he's whole again.

Feelings wise, Elias isn't too against the mindscape for a good while, mainly in the beginning. While it is confusing and lonely, leaving him quite on edge most of the time, he does at least find solace in mind Everly, Mind Jekyll, and some of the rooms. He does have a few run-ins with nightmares, though he always manages to flee or be saved somehow by mind Everly or Jekyll. He prefers to stay on the higher levels where it's brighter and safer, though occasionally he does go down to dig through memories, much to mindkyll's masked annoyance.

He initially sticks around Mindkyll quite a bit, dancing and hanging out in the ballroom or alchemy lab with him, even if he occasionally makes Elias kind of uncomfortable. Elias is quick to trust him and his charm, falling into him as a safety since Mindkyll is so kind towards him, and since he resembles Jekyll so much. Mindkyll is also quite touchy and praising with Elias, feeding Elias's yearning for romantic intimacy from Jekyll. Mindkyll usually knows just what cards to play to make Elias either fall for his charm or feel bad for him. They do pursue something of a "relationship", and despite the occasional discomfort Elias feels, he is quite reliant on Mindkyll for a while, using him as a stand-in since the real Jekyll seems so unattainable.

Also, Elias finds Mindkyll's "sparkle machine" ability quite funny, but of course falls for it. On a few occasions he's accidentally sparkled back, shocking Mindkyll and somewhat offending him.

Additionally, Elias hangs with mind Everly a decent bit too, finding her to be a more calming presence among the greenhouse and music room. She gives him advice and lets him talk, acting as a sort of mental therapist. She doesn't like mindkyll. She'll play music for Elias or sometimes just sit with him in the greenhouse.

Elias somewhat avoids mind Lanyon Sr, rarely trying to get to the ballroom's second floor, unless he feels he has to. He also partially tries to avoid his fathers gaze, though sometimes he can't help but look up at Lanyon Sr watching over the ballroom, yearning to make his father proud of him. Lanyon Sr's critical gaze tends to make him feel small, cringing under the judgement.

A mind version of his mother also haunts the mindscape, though she is scarcely seen. She does seem to like Elias far more than Lanyon though, sometimes even holding Elias and calling him her baby. She only really shows up in the greenhouse, from what Elias has seen.

MIND JEKYLL

A resident of Lanyon's mindscape, he's a sparkly amalgamation of Jekyll and Hyde. Wandering between the ballroom, halls, and his lab, he mainly dances, experiments, and charms. He has phantom pains all around his body, stemming from Lanyon's constant fear of Jekyll getting hurt (especially via potion mishaps), and has a limp in his left leg from recurring nightmares of Jekyll stepping in a bear trap on the faithful Bleeding Heart Night™.

Before Lanyon and Elias split, mind Jekyll looked far more like normal Jekyll and acted a bit more awkward. however, after learning of Jekylls duality, mindkyll became a bit more Hyde like, his sideburns growing out, his hair growing messier, and gaining a hole filled cape and green hat, as well as gradient eyes. He hates his new appearance a decent bit, blaming Elias for it.

He spends most of his time in the ballroom, since Lanyon taught him how to act "proper" and he seemingly surpassed Lanyon at that, causing him to become a sort of icon to Lanyon in that sense. In the ballroom he's quite the charmer, going between the shadow people and playing them as he wishes, which stems from Lanyon's jealousy of how Jekyll acted (and still acts) with women at parties while they were together.

Mindkyll tends to feel an inherent hatred for Elias when Elias is around him, as if Elias's presence by itself just causes stabs of anger and resentment in him, though usually he can force this feeling down in order to keep his charming facade up. However, on top of that resentment, when he feels like he has any sort of control over Elias, he gets a swell of pride and power in his chest. He tends to get more inwardly cocky, which mixes with the hatred and makes him increasingly cruel at times, though he does mask that with his charm and sparkles. He's also very much emotionally manipulative, pulling at Elias's weaknesses and the slight inherent attraction Elias has for him, since he looks like Jekyll and such. He doesn't really tend to outwardly show any of his hatred of course, since he wants to keep Elias's trust for the most part, but he does Harbor Lanyon's resentment and repression of all those "weak" emotions and such. Additionally, he holds a lot of Lanyon's "rebellious" stage, feeding off of the power he gets from having control.

He also lets off sparkles as a sort of defense mechanism for when he feels threatened or starts getting impatient/aggravated. They have a somewhat calming effect, most of the time at least, made to distract people from his real intentions and feelings. Occasionally, however, their impact/sway is dulled, like against Mind Everly. Eventually, Lanyon starts becoming more resistant to their sway, and after a certain future event, so does Elias.

MIND EVERLY

Mind Everly tends to avoid the ballroom, so she doesn't really interact with the shadow people unless she has to. She's also surprisingly adept at fighting off the nightmares. When Mind Mumyon randomly shows up in the garden, or on rare occasions the music room, she'll kinda just chat with her and keep her company until she wanders off/disappears again. With Mindkyll, Everly tends to be a bit "low patience" with him, not really playing into his charm and tending to ignore him.

Mind Everly knows she's just a part of Lanyon, being one of his main comforts and someone that he confides in, and she's quite alright with doing her thing and occasionally helping out Elias or Lanyon. She's just as sweet and trustworthy as the real Everly, acting somewhat as a therapist and general advice giver. She's also quite protective of Elias after certain events.

She frequents the Music room and the Garden, only occasionally going into the ballroom if she feels she has to. She completely avoids the alchemy lab, and only goes into Lanyon's office every once in a while to clean it up a bit.

MIND LANYON SR

Mind Lanyon Sr looks quite similar to the real one, just far more oppressive and judgemental, far more emotionally detached than the real one. He has a distressing aura to him, causing discomfort to the shadow people and monsters and annoyance to most of the other mind people that get close to him. Mindkyll seems to be the outlier to this, as he generally tolerates Mind Lanyon Sr's presence quite well, even occasionally seeking it out.

He usually hangs out on the second floor of the ballroom, staring down and judging the people below. He's this ever-watching presence, detached but still close enough to control things-- or at least seem like he could. Otherwise he frequents his office, doing work, reorganizing, or reading.

He'll occasionally hang out with Mindkyll, vaguely talking to him and slipping him praises. He sees him as more successful, fond of him in a "my son should be like you" way. Despite this, he still gets quite judgemental of Mindkyll when he looses his temper or shows his more "mad scientist" side.

His feelings towards Elias are a little mixed. For the most part, Mind Lanyon Sr is constantly judging Elias, disgusted by his emotional vulnerability and how he's everything the real Lanyon Sr tried to get rid of in his son. But, on the other hand, occasionally he can't help but be the *slightest* bit proud of the fact that Elias has at least SOME work ethic.

Were Elias to try and talk to mind Lanyon Sr, he would probably be met with Mind Lanyon Sr ignoring him, silently judging him, and/or verbally jabbing at him, pointing out his flaws. Elias is quite heartbroken at this, but for some reason he tries to get Mind Lanyon Sr's approval a handful of times before finally giving up, cringing under his stern, judging gaze.

Otherwise, he's aware of his state as a concept and is quite fine with it, intent on keeping Lanyon and Elias in line, in his own detatched way.

LANYON'S MOTHER (CELIA)

Cecilia Lanyon (Mumyon) somewhat haunts around the mindscape, quite scarcely seen. Because of her distance and detatchment towards her son, she rarely shows up, and when she does it's usually in the greenhouse, since she mainly "bonded" with Lanyon by having him help tend the garden occasionally. Since at home she was also commonly hysterical, Mind Celia is generally quite blank, but occasionally snaps a bit emotionally.

When Lanyon is around her, she tends to somewhat blankly stare at him, VERY occasionally actually talking or acting motherly towards him. Elias, however, tries to drag a bit more of that motherly persona out. He yearns for validation and affection from both of his parents, and the mindscape if the only place he'll ever possibly be able to get it. She occasionally seems to give him a little of the attention he wants, talking in very short sentences when they're together in the greenhouse, maybe pointing out flowers or their symbolism. Sometimes she does seem quite cynical, however, which tends to throw Elias off.

Her and Mind Lanyon Sr don't really ever interact, unless Mind Celia just happens to silently join him on the second floor of the ballroom for "show". She mostly ignores mindkyll, but has snapped at him at least once. Otherwise, she usually just tolerates him. She likes Mind Everly well enough, it's hard to dislike her, and she enjoys listening to Mind Everly's music.

Most of the time she's not the most aware of things, but she does have her more clear moments.

(Cecilia Eleanor Lanyon was made by my friend Luka ( @lukas-broken-bow ), while mind Celia was adapted by me bc her character EATS, THANK YOU FOR DEVELOPING HER LUKA, I LOVE HER)

THE NIGHTMARES

The nightmares take on a lot of forms, with one resembling Morcant being the most notable. Along with that, however, there's also many "mad scientists", physically ruined by their science, and various magical creatures and monsters, like vampires (there's one with a resemblance to Dracula), other werewolves, and reanimated things (ones that are especially gory, since Lanyon is disgusted by things like exposed innards,wounds, and rot.) There's also a nightmare "Hyde", who is somewhat formless and mainly causes general havoc and stalks around.

With the twisting of the mindscape and so many doors scattered about, the nightmares tend to stay in lower levels, trapped behind said doors or simply lost, especially if Lanyon keeps them off of his mind. However, when thought of or triggered via seeing or hearing something (or occasionally at random), doors will open or memory rooms will move, allowing nightmares to find themselves closer to the subconcious. They're also more active in higher layers in moments of higher stress, or heavy sleep deprivation, as those " doors" become harder to unconsciously keep closed.

Mindkyll is somewhat fearful of them, some more than others, but when they're closer to his ballroom or lab, he tends to be less scared. Or, when he needs to swoop in and "save" Elias from a couple of nightmares, he tends to forget some of his fear. Mind Everly is somewhat scared of them, but is more so annoyed by them. Mind Lanyon Sr. doesn't really have to deal with them, considering his spot on the balcony, and simply watches when they come about.

THE SHADOW PEOPLE

The shadow people are vague, blurry high society folk that remain in the ballroom. They're all dressed very well, their bodies partially see-through as if they're mere ghosts.

The shadow people don't really interact with anyone but each other and Mindkyll, since he somewhat has control over them. They dance amongst each other, muttering nonsensically until their "words" all blur together. They're not very aware of anything, all in all quite mindless, but when there's anything "wrong" or "ungentlemanly", that's when they act more. Their voices start to rise, despite still being mere whispers, growing more cacophonous and anxiety-inducing as they stare. Their judgement of anything odd is ceaseless, usually only calming at Mindkyll's demand or when the oddity leaves the ballroom.

Additionally, mindkyll can manipulate them to react in other basic ways, like acting charmed or shocked, and he usually does it for his own enjoyment. When a nightmare manages to get into the ballroom, the shadow people aren't targeted. Instead they grow more sinister looking, especially expression wise, and their mutterings take on a certain sharpness, their judgements growing harsher. Usually mindkyll needs to remove of the nightmare for them to act normally again.

_______

And that is the basics of the Mindscape! Once again, I'd absolutely LOVE any questions in reblogs, comments, or even my asks :3 thank you so much for reading all of this, I hope you enjoyed!!

[aclowntiny]

What Type of Kisser is Seventeen?

I am once again simply having Thoughts™. Warnings: 🤏🏻 suggestive in some places

S.Coups: Smiles and caresses your face before he brings you in. His lips command yours, and yet they’re soft, almost reverent at the same time. Will whisper praises and sweet nothings to you in between each one. He will speed things up if one of you decides to use some tongue, an arm sliding down to encircle your waist. Please play with his hair while/after you kiss he really likes it.

Jeonghan: Leans in so gently, testing the waters by ghosting his lips over yours and smiling when you immediately respond. Slow but knows exactly what you like, each kiss giving him more and more data. Teasingly swipes his tongue over your lips just to see how you respond. Whether it’s shock or taking him up on it, he’ll giggle about it when you’re separated again.

Joshua: Looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky before his lashes start to flutter, eyes falling closed. Joshua either takes you by your cheek, gently guiding your lips to his, or kissing him starts when he kisses your hand and moves all the way up your arm, neck, cheek, and finally his lips connecting with yours, sliding perfectly against them. Even manages to French you gently.

Jun: Acts like he isn’t good at using his tongue, but once he starts getting comfortable you’ll see that oh boy is that a lie. For someone not good at it he sure does it a fair bit 🤔 Accidentally gets a little messy, oops! Either giggling or giving you the most intense stare ever when you pull apart, it’s a coin toss.

Hoshi: Soonyoung is so happy and excited to be kissing you every time, he looks at you like he just got a winning lotto ticket. He’s not afraid to just go for it, all but yanking you into his lips, which eagerly take hold of yours. Explores a lot, but doesn’t always want to get too messy, just wants to feel every bit he can. His hands will be sliding over your hips or rubbing your shoulders, just one or two extra points of contact because it’s never enough for him, he just can’t resist. Likes to throw in little nips between collisions of your lips, your reaction to which always has him smiling that much more. Also enjoys pulling your tongue in with his.

Wonwoo: Leans in suddenly, but you usually have a little clue it’s going to happen by how he looks at you. Likes to brush your hair out of your face before keeping his hands there, yours resting flush against his chest. Not as much of a tongue guy, but every kiss Wonwoo gives you is so full of love it has your heart soaring. He adores your expression of pleasant surprise whenever he takes you off guard with a sudden kiss.

Woozi: Giggles a little at first, but kisses you so passionately it’ll turn into a satisfied smirk when he pulls away. Likes to have a hand on the small of your back to pull you in, maybe even run his nails down. Rather than a bunch of little ones, he likes to keep you for one long kiss, you two separating just far enough to get some air and them coming back all the way together. Everything you do blends together and you don’t know how much time passes, but neither of you seem to mind much, either 😉

DK: Always has to give your cheeks some appreciation first. Kissing Seokmin often starts with his lips traveling over your cheeks before finally falling onto yours, smiling into it when you pull him closer. He may accidentally get messy if you smile into it too because his heart races and he gets so excited because you’re adorable and he’s so lucky he gets to kiss you and oops, since when was it going at this pace?

Mingyu: Fast. Once he latches on, you’re in for a ride. Kissing Mingyu practically feels like exercise, but it adds a certain fire you haven’t felt before. The more you try to keep up, the more he’ll stay at it. Has the biggest smile on his face when you guys inevitably separate for air, especially if you look as messy as he feels. The whiplash you get when he kisses you like that then rubs your noses together when he pulls away 🤕

The8: Hugging Minghao turns into kisses, his arms sliding forward a bit from your back to your sides as you both lean in. He also likes running a hand through your hair as your lips connect. Every kiss is soft, taking its time to show you how beautiful you are and that Minghao would hold you forever if he could. Not much of a French kisser most of the time, that’s messy and a difficult kind of intimate he’d prefer to save for another setting. He’ll kiss your cheek after each kiss.

Seungkwan: Cups your face gently in both hands almost every time you kiss. Kissing Seungkwan also almost always starts with peck after peck before he finally captures you, unaware how eager it always makes you for him. You feel his surprise at how quickly you pull him in, but his hands tighten their hold on you ever so slightly. Every kiss with Seungkwan radiates love; even when he’s exploring your mouth you can feel him smiling into it. Rest your forehead against his afterward, he absolutely loves it.

Vernon: Lazy, sometimes even nonchalant kisses. “I’m bored, let’s kiss” vibes. He’s not usually very messy, but likes French kissing, so he’ll casually slide in there after a bit. Likes to have one arm around you as he kisses you or you two are laying together, one on top of the other. When you and Vernon pull away, he gives you a cute little smile like he didn’t just tongue wrestle you.

Dino: Pulls you by your waist into him as close as he can possibly get you, your foreheads touching before he turns and closes the gap between your lips. Passionate but slow, his lips moving thoroughly over yours as his hands slide up and down your sides. Lowkey highkey loves it if you make the move to slip your tongue along the seam of his lips. If you whisper any sweet nothings when you guys are done, spoiler alert, you are not done, Chan is going to attack you with another kiss you don’t understand he must.

[mikimakiboo]

Time Travelers AU - The Box™

The idea of the TV comes from @ancha-aus and it was too funny to be left in a reblog, so I had to write it :D

First

Prev

Next

ALSO because I forgot to say it in the first drabble- Nightmare doesn't have his tentacles summoned because it's a waste of space and it makes his back hurt so he only summons them in very rare occasions

Dust woke up with the sound of metal kitchenware falling on the ground. He sighed.

- Please be a cat...

He pushed the covers aside, grabbed his jacket, put on his sweatpants, and walked to his bedroom door, stopping right before grabbing the handle. What if he went back to bed ? He heard metal clanking.

- Oh for God's sake.

He opened his door and was met with Cross holding Killer by his arm, the roman was sitting on the ground and holding a fork in his hand, the other kitchenware laying on the ground with the drawer they were previously in being opened. Dust stared at the two, and they both stared at him. It was nine am. Dust didn't want to deal with that at nine am. He turned to Nightmare to ask him if he could tell Killer to stop looking through his stuff but he stopped himself when he saw that the noble was still sleeping. Strange, he thought that nobles woke up early ? He was almost ready to see him judging him for sleeping in to be honest, but it seemed that instead he was the last one still asleep as Dust could see Horror looking at them from outside. Right, he should probably go open the door for him, not sure the viking knew how to open a sliding door.

He let Horror in and closed behind him, he saw Cross letting go of Killer who quickly assembled all the kitchenware to put them back in the drawer, because looking was a thing but making a mess was another, and Dust was his host, it wouldn't please the gods if he made a mess in his host's house. Dust was really wondering how Nightmare managed to sleep with all that noise.

- So, uh... ya'll slept well ?

As expected, none of them understood. Dust went to grab his phone that had finished charging overnight and went back on Google Translate, using the vocal command for French and Latin and letting Horror read the Old Norse as there wasn't any vocal sample for that. They all nodded.

- Good. Well.. I'll just make myself some coffee, and uh.. and we'll see from there, I need coffee first.

He declared as he went to the kitchen.

- Move.

He said to Killer, pointing at the livingroom. The roman looked at him for a minute before understanding and going back to his corner in which he apparently installed the lava lamp to make it more cozy. Dust sighed and turned the coffee machine on while he opened the cabinet above the sink, but before he could climb on the counter Horror grabbed a cup, by simply lifting his arm, and handed it to him. He didn't notice him following him.

- Oh, uh.. thanks ?

He said, quite confused, but took the cup to pour the coffee in it. Did Horror do that because he felt bad about last night ? He had made thumbs ups, he thought he would have understood it meant no hard feelings... well, at least he didn't have to climb his counter this time.

He looked through his cabinets as he sipped on his coffee, he was low on food, it was enough for him but he had five mouths to feed now, and what he had clearly wouldn't suffice. He'll need to go grocery shopping, which meant either take them with him or leave them alone in his apartment, and he didn't like neither options. He couldn't take them with him though, because monitoring them here was a thing, they couldn't go too far, didn't have much to do, didn't have to worry about people, but monitoring them outside ? In the middle of a crowded store ? When no-one spoke their language and they surely didn't even know what a store was ? Dust would die from stress before he could grab a cart. Plus he didn't have any clothes to lend them, the only ones being roughly his size being Killer and Nightmare, but he doubted Nightmare would agree to take off his fancy clothes and Killer didn't seem to know what pants were and Dust really didn't want to dress him up. He also didn't have the money to buy them all a new set of clothes, so he'll have to leave them here. Maybe he could put on a movie for them to watch ? That would keep them untertained.

He put his empty cup in the sink and went back to the living room to look through the drawers under the TV, searching for long movie so he would have time to shop in peace. He had a five hour long movie about the French Revolution but he doubted it would have been a good thing to show Nightmare, he didn't want to give him, well, nightmares, so he eventually settled on The Lord Of The Rings, which was three hours long, with the shop being fifteen minutes away, that left Dust with two hours and a half to shop, which was more than enough.

He got up to put the DVD box on the table and noticed that Nightmare had woken up and sat up straight. Saying that he looked disoriented would have been an understatement, his mind was clearly foggy. Dust checked the time, it was almost ten, Nightmare must have been exhausted to sleep that late. He went on Google again, just in time for Nightmare to speak, still sounding quite sleepy.

- Pourquoi ne pas m'avoir réveillé... ?

He asked. "Why didn't you wake me up ?" The translation said.

- Why would we ? You were tired, so you slept, 's as simple as that.

He answered, using the vocal command so Nightmare could hear it in French. He looked up at him confused, like he didn't understand that sleeping was made to rest when tired and not just to pass the night. That made Dust wonder at what time he usually woke up ? Surely around seven am, when the sun rises. Did they have alarm clocks at that time ? Or did his servants, because he surely had some, wake him up every morning ? Did he ever sleep enough by the way ? Maybe that would explain why he slept in and why he got so confused on why they didn't wake him up. Well, good for him, Dust thought, at least he got to rest.

Dust looked at the time again. If he went to the store now he would come back near one pm, so he would have time to cook and they could eat between one and two pm, which wouldn't be too late, and he would have the afternoon to make more researches.

- Okay everyone here !

He called, gesturing for the four to come closer or simply listen to him.

- I'm going to grab some food, so you will stay here and watch a movie on the TV while I'm gone, do not make a mess and do not fight.

He first translated in into French, then into Old Norse, which had some words missing because they didn't exist in that language, such as TV and movie, but Horror still understood that Dust would be out, probably hunting, and they had to stay here and be calm. Dust looked at Nightmare, waiting for him to translate for Killer, Cross having understood the general idea already. Nightmare rubbed his eye and focused for a bit before coming up with a translation, not knowing either what a movie was, but he figured the "TV" was this big flat black mirror behind Dust.

- Emit cibum et rogat nos ut hanc nigram cistam videamus dum abest.

Dust wanted to steal his knowledge, just open his head and take it, how was he so fluent in a language that had been dead for centuries ?!

He decided to leave it for now, having more important things to do, and just put the cd in the player before turning the movie on and going to put on his shoes to go outside. Cross looked at him for a few seconds before letting him get out of the apartment.

Dust sighed when outside, finally being alone. He grabbed his headphones and put on some music on his was to the store. French songs. To try and learn some words. Maybe choosing L'Assasymphonie as a starter song wasn't his best idea as it had quite a lot of complicated words, but the song slapped, so he kept it anyway.

It was the first time in his life that Dust had been happy to go grocery shopping, and also the first time it took more than two hours, he really wanted to appreciate some time away from everything, but he had to come back now, the movie was almost done and he didn't want them to make a mess the second they would be left without a distraction.

He opened the door with one hand, the bags in the other, and was surprised to see that Cross wasn't standing guard anymore. Well, surely he had joined the others to watch the TV. Dust came in, and just had the time to close the door before Killer litteraly jumped at his feet to hold onto his waist.

- Wh- ?!

- Quaeso ne nos in arca pone ! Bene erimus ! Promitto !

He begged as if his life depended on it. Okay what happened ? Dust looked up, inspecting his appartment, but everything was in order, the credits were rolling on the TV, Nightmare was on the couch, Cross was standing next to it, Horror was standing near the bay window, and, oh... they all looked at him frightened. Did he put a horror movie by accident ? He was pretty sure he grabbed the right box but the cds could have been mixed up. He recognized the names of the characters on the credits though, so he did put the right movie. But why did they look so scared then ?

- Killer, let go.

He pushed him, but Killer tightened his grip around him. He sighed, picking up his phone again to ask Nightmare what happened.

Nightmare flinched when Dust "talked" to him. Weird. He looked at him for a while before answering, seeming unsure.

- Allez-vous nous emprisonner dans cette boîte également... ?

Dust looked at the translation with incomprehension: was he going to lock them in the box too ? What box ? Why would he lock them in a box ? He looked up at them again, then at the TV.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Of course they didn't know what a film was, of course they would think it was real people, hell even he thought that when he was a kid, before he learnt about special effects and cgi, he thought it was all real, that people were really dying, so of course these four would think that real people were trapped in there, the only thing they knew was theater ! What Dust just did was basically show them his collection of enslaved people in boxes who he forced to perform elaborated scenarios where they would get hurt and possibly die. That couldn't be more terrifying and if he had been in their place he would have felt very threatened.

He quickly typed an explanation and translated it in all three languages, praying that the translation would be correct, to tell them it wasn't real, that these people were actors and these were simply the images of what they played, that they weren't trapped here and they weren't really getting hurt. He saw them relax a little, but they still seemed quite chocked, which was understandable.

- I'm, uh... going to make food then.. ?

Dust said awkwardly as he managed to make Killer let go of him, but the roman still followed him in the kitchen to sit by his feet. He didn't chase him, thinking that chasing him now would just make him think that Dust would lock him in the TV, or the box as they seemed to call it, so he just prepared dinner with the skeleton waiting on the floor. He heard Cross go back to the door.

- You can take a break you know.

Cross looked at him.

- You know, break, how do you say... pause ? Arrêter ? You can stop ?

He tried to translate from memory. Cross frown.

- Eo ne poez mie. Eo doi monter la warde.

- Yeah you already said that, but that's okay, you did a very good job, uhhh.. un bon travail.. ? So you can.. you can pause ? You can stop, bon travail, take une pause.

He managed to blurt out in a broken French with a smile, so hopefully Cross would understand. The knight looked at him before quickly turning away. Dust could have sworn he saw a faint purple blush on his cheeks. He wanted to ask him but the timer went off at that moment. Food was ready.

Horror helped him set the table, putting spoons for himself, Killer and Cross, and forks for Nightmare and Dust.

Cross avoided Dust's gaze during all of dinner while Nightmare kept eying Horror who was sitting next to him, surely to make sure he wouldn't touch him, Dust thought, as the noble seemed quite cautious of the viking, even though for now Horror was clearly not the dangerous type. Whatever, as long as they didn't fight, Dust wasn't going to force them to become friends.

He had a good feeling about Horror though, he was helpful and didn't look at him weird when he came up with broken translations. He kinda liked him. If they ended up being stuck here for a while he wouldn't mind him as a roommate.

He still hoped they would be gone soon though. He really didn't have enough money for all of them.

His bank account was almost empty already, and it wasn't even past the first half of the month.

He'll need to save money. Like, really save money.

[nobodylikety]

Bear Hybrid! Minji 🐻

I continue my blurbs and thoughts of hybrid!New Jeans, and it's turn of the cuddliest teddy bear!

tags: bear hybrid!Minji x gn!reader??, fluff, hybrid AU.

Bear hybrid!Minji is the softest of soft babies, a living teddy bear! 🥺 She is warm and soft, her ears and tail are practically made of cotton <3

Bear hybrid!Minji that during her hibernation period, apart from getting super sluggy and sleepy, gets SUPER clingy. She cannot take her long naps without you giving her attention and affection first!

، ☾ ﾟ Just when you thought Minji had traveled to dreamland, she hinted you otherwise when she spoke.

"I can't sleep without a kiss," she murmured, in a whiny voice. You stopped and turned your head towards her, surprised. "Sorry?" You gasped, but Minji simply pulled a hand out of her blanket and made a grabby motion, “Kissy,” she murmured again, pouting.

Although you weren't sure, you walked back towards her and carefully leaned in to hesitantly kiss Minji on the side of her head, and obviously, her hair smelled good. Like, really good and sweet.

You'd think it would be something wild like musk, given her ursid nature, but it's definitely vanilla. Minji sighed contently before she started snoring and with that, you realized that you really liked Minji in hibernation, almost as much as normal Minji. Of course, the normal Minji was quite playful and active, but hibernating Minji is a sleepy clingy baby you just want to spoil.

Bear hybrid!Minji whose nap dates are HER kind of date 💤

+ she literally loves you so much and just wants to be around you, so she's always flopping on you when you're working, or anytime you're sitting down. So you literally sit up and before you know it, Minji is flopping down on you and wrapping you in THE BIGGEST BEAR HUG 🧸 and then, obviosly, naps on you or with you <3

Bear hybrid!Minji has a sweet tooth! she loves chocolate ice cream, gummy bears (Puppy hybrid!Danielle insists that this is, in some category, cannibalism), AND HONEY, just like Winnie the Pooh 🍯🐻 then she has sugar rushes that make her almost as energetic as Danielle, with the difference that the effect wears off quickly, and she soon flops on you to take a nap AGAIN.

Bear hybrid!Minji is prone to pouting and whining, because she's absolutely a big baby ™.

[teecupangel]

i know you have so much on your plate rn but i can't stop thinking about Ezio-era Baker!Desmond and the shenanigan layers of ✨intrigue✨ going on with Ezio and Leo thinking he’s Giovani's bastard, and Maria inviting him to the villa on a whim ’cause she thinks her kids (and Leo) like the pastries, and Desmond misinterpreting absolutely everything because that boy is a Wreck™

what comes of it, tho?? is Desmond trying to alter history more than just pre-inventing exotic baked goods? is he already having to dodge assassins around Italy while trying to protect the Auditore family, getting on Giovani's radar and spooking him ’cause he can't figure out what branch he's from? or is Desmond holed up in his bakery trying very hard NOT to change anything ’cause hey he’d already saved the world he’d like to not fuck things up bad enough to have to do it again?

does Giovani catch a glimpse of him at some point (either just in the bakery or while Desmond’s out being assassin-y), and instead of thinking he looks like himself or Ezio (since this would be before Ezio gets the scar), thinks he looks eerily like the statue of Altaïr? as another layer of shenanigan, he could come to Leonardo with the idea of time travel but thinks that Desmond is from the PAST rather than the FUTURE, and Leo spends the whole convo trying not to blurt that he thinks/knows Desmond is GIOVANI'S kid

just. the confusion of this au speaks to me, since it’s ALMOST crack-y but also these fools are canonically FOOLS, and i love the way you blend angst with shenanigans. im also shippy at heart, so would love to see your take on that in this au if you have the time 👀

(thank you for reading, i hope you're doing well! 🧡)

As long as you guys are find that your asks are getting answered a month later, I’m alright with adding more to my plate XD (just to be clear, this is a first-in-first-out basis for both asks and replies/reblogs and I’m only about to clear Oct 13 XD)

The original Desmond becomes a baker in Renaissance Italy and gets mistaken as Giovanni’s illegitimate child idea for those curious.

In this one, Desmond only went as far as stop the Auditores from being arrested by dropping key documents showing Uberto’s treachery to the Medici. He stayed as far away as he could from the Auditores and only dropped off the evidence in Lorenzo’s bedside table one day, slipping into the darkness. Anyone who saw him actually thought he was a monk since he was wearing a monk’s attire (which he burned afterwards). This does lead to Giovanni and the thieves guild looking for him after since he hasn’t done any other Assassin related stuff and was simply living his life as a baker, they’re hitting a dead end. Desmond doesn’t plan to do anything else since he believes that the Auditores would be able to handle it from here and he’s betting on Giovanni finally starting Ezio’s training after learning that the Templars are after his family.

Giovanni’s first glimpse of him is when he checked the bakery from afar since his family seemed to like it so much. He just wanted to make sure it wouldn’t post any danger to his family and maybe even talk to La Volpe into adding it to the thieves’ patrol route just so they would have eyes on the bakery at all time. It’s gotten so popular that the Medici are even thinking of ordering from them so Giovanni figured he should do reconnaissance before it got to that point. When he saw Desmond, he doesn’t see the similarities between them, he saw Desmond looking a lot like the statue of Altaïr and he freaks out. Because, unlike Ezio or Leonardo, he does have an inkling of how powerful Those Who Come Before were. He has seen the Shroud and he has heard the tales of how Altaïr had mastered one of their weapons. And… if the Shroud could heal all and any injuries then… In this case, Giovanni doesn’t think Desmond is a time traveler, he thinks Desmond is Altaïr himself who has gained immortality thanks to the ‘powers’ of Those Who Come Before.

Thank you! I honestly like writing these ideas where it’s crack but not crack enough that it’s a bit confusing XD

[happytobus]

So it looks like we will have two villains in Miraculous World: London. I originally assumed that they were the same, but they’ve both got distinct designs differences. There’s the first one, who I’m simply calling Time Guy ™. And then there’s the second, who I’m called Ghost Guy ™.

Ghost Guy’s power seems to allow the to make themselves intangible so that they can pass through objects, and sink into the floor. They appear a few times in the two trailers we got: Once delivering a mysterious notebook with Ladybug’s identity in it to Cerise/Lila’s lair, and a second time in Marinette’s bedroom, stealing all of the miraculous she had from the looks of it, and putting them on.

Now for Time Guy. He seems to be able to time travel at will, and he is seen twice as well. Once in the Agreste Repository, where he vanished before discovery and later fights Chronobug, and a second time where he dodged Chronobug trying to grab him through the Burrow. It feels safe to assume that they’re both akumatized, and are either working for Cerise/Lila, or wish to aid her. Giving her Ladybug’s identity seems like a pretty obvious way to assist her, but I’m unsure why Ghost Guy is attempting to steal all of the reforged Miraculous, as they’re pretty much useless without Gabe’s tech.

Also, Nooroo is talking to someone in the trailer, and looks pretty shocked when one of them appears, so I don’t think Lila Akumatized them. They definitely seem to be from the future. Regardless of who they are, I’m very excited to see them and what their end goal is in the special. We are so back.

[ant1quarian]

UPDATED DUSTVERSE NAMES LIST

( With Creators/People who added the Dust to the OG post )

OG Dust

Belongs to Ask-Dusttale

Ash

BS!Dust. Belongs to @/absurdumsid.

Ruins

CV Dust. Belongs to @/askquellowsans

Remnant

Also known as Quellow. Belongs to @/askquellowsans

Flumen (And Dyst)

A Swap Sans who wears the clothes of a fallen "friend", Dyst.

Created by @/rushin-safire

Dusty Crumb

Belongs to @/kredena-dark

Has been corrected ✨

Discard

Also known as Voidface Dust, submitted by @/elizakai

Reject

Tall Dust, submitted by @/elizakai

Cinder

Femme Dust, belongs to @/elizakai

Debris

Idol Dust, designed by @/safwunnz, created by @/zucchiyeni

Wilt

Bald Dust, submitted by @/swiftmitsu

Sprinkle

Friendly Dust, @/dustsansm1 Dust, essentially, designed by @/absurdumsid

Non-romanceable. A content creator here on Tumblr.

Spread

BIB Dust, belongs to @/thelunarsystemwrites

Scraps

Saejun!Dust, belongs to @/absurdumsid

has been corrected ✨

Husks

Cap-wearing Dust, submitted by @/swiftmitsu

Mote

Detective Dust, belongs (I believe) to @/switchthedragon

Fos (Fossilz)

Fos/Fossilz Dust belongs to @/safwunnz

Pendulum

Time traveller Dust, belongs to @/ksopaz

has been corrected ✨

Detritus

Biblically Accurate Dust, belongs to @/elizakai

Olyu

Olyu, Error!Dust, belongs to @/glitchedcodez

Fracture

Ivan!Dust, belongs to @/absurdumsid

has been corrected ✨

Serial

Killer-Dust fusion, belongs to @/swiftmisu

Dander

Bitty bat Dust, belongs to @/mellybabbles

Erosion

Eldritch Dust, belongs to (/submitted by) @/wr-n

Smog

Smiles, submitted by @/elizakai

Pollen

Bitty Dust, submitted by @/createbellatheartist

Miasma

Brother Dust, belongs to @/elizakai

Haze

Drugdealer Dust that's constantly high and Built Different™, submitted by @/elizakai

Atrophy

Mr Feral McStabby, submitted by @/elizakai

Talc

Limbus Company Dust, belongs to @/tuxibirdie

Webs

Mttbs Dust, belongs to @/justanidiotartist

Malaise

Nun Dust, submitted by @/elizakai

Decay

Avian Dust, belongs to Me (@/ant1quarian)

Fallout

Witherborn Dust, belongs to Me (@/ant1quarian)

Soot

Mafiadust Sans, belongs to Me (@/antiquarian)

Molt

Flighteningtale Dust, belongs to @/dragon-tamer-1

Misery

Transfem Dust, belongs to @/mellybabbles

Mites

Middleschool (Cat?) Dust, belongs to @/inkcat1987

Residue

Magical Girl Duster, belongs to @/thelunarsystemwrites

Grit

BT!Dust (Goblin Dust), belongs to @/shadowy-suitcase-herring-neck

Fuzz

Cat Dust, belongs to @/squidiott

Corrosion

Underworld Society!Dust, submitted by @/absurdumsid, belongs to @/machicoasa625 on Twitter

Malicious (Mal)

Mind's Multiverse!Dust, belongs to @/solusminds

Specks

Glasses Dust, submitted by @/elizakai

Heather

Heathers!Dust, belongs to @/a-whispering-echo

Plague

Pestilence!Dust, belongs to @/a-whispering-echo

Murmur

Ghost!Dust, belongs to @/a-whispering-echo

Crow

EtherealDreamtale!Dust, belongs to @/fictionalshippingbean

Stain

Dust!Ink, submitted by me, belongs to Ssgt. Frost or Undriel

Burgundy

Dust!Fell, who was submitted by me, @/ant1quarian

Wraith

Festivalverse!Dust, belongs to @/meimeikyu

Rust

Fiend or Foe Dust, belongs to @/liliallowed

has been corrected ✨

Closure

GOD!Dust (essentially), belongs to @/liliallowed

Melancholy

Dust-Isabella (from Encanto), belongs to @/jadethetsu

Clutter

Dust!Swap Sans, belongs to me, technically @/ant1quarian

Stardust

Dust!Nebula, belongs to @/dzasterdumpterfire

Warden

Bodyguard!Dust, belongs to @/absurdumsid

Sleuth

Spy!Dust, belongs to @/ksopaz

Snore

Snorlax Dust, belongs to @rushin-safire /silly

Loch

Pirate!Dust, belongs to Me (@/ant1quarian)

Crimson and Ashley

Gender!Swap Dragon-esque AU, belongs to @/liliallowed

Treble

Colour!Dust, belongs to @/dzasterdumpterfire

Speckle

Little!Dust, belongs to @/thelunarsystemwrites

Reform

Ref!Dust, belongs to @/sans-wannabe-wife

Popsicle

Popsicle Dust, belongs to @/liliallowed

Harvest

Dust!Reaper Sans, belongs to @/ant1quarian, inspired and sorta designed by @/pika-pika-blog

Reign

Dust!Controltale Sans, belongs to @/ant1quarian

If I have missed any Dusts, simply comment on this post or mention me elsewhere or send me an ask, and your Dust will be added :]

( Also all tags are on this post )

Credit to every single creator and submitter that added to the Dustverse!

I think that's all I've got so far!

Anyone else who wants to add Dust's can send me an ask or interact with me in DM's, because it'll be open until the story eventually finishes! (will be literal years away-)

If I've got any credits incorrect, please do tell me so that I can fix it!

[kassandrasdisciple]

~~~spoilers for all of the magnus archives~~~

How popular is the take that Melanie and Georgie were actually in a Fearscape?

I feel like this must be a common take, but it's hard to find just meta-theories for TMA, but just incase, here's how I came to this conclusion.

Melanie's Blindness

The are alot of blind people in the world. I know Melanie blinded herself under spooky™ circumstances, but nothing actively spooky was occurring other than being inside the magnus institute. Also as seen with Gertrude/Agnes, the flesh book and The Dark ritual, when you want to avoid an Entity, or several, you usually have to do some explicity spooky things.

Because of this I think Melanie is just normally blind, she herself seems to think her immunity is just because of her blindness too. Now I know Jonny hasn't always been great on numbers and scales but there are ALOT of blind people, maybe the Eye only ignores people who are completely blind and not visually imperared but still, Jon should've been seeing dozens of blindspots just within the UK in the beginning of S5. So I think it's safe to say Melanie's blindness isn't why she's "immune".

Observation Isn't Overt

We know the Fearscapes aren't constant hell, the camera is the most explicit, giving prolonged relief, but it was still a Fearscape, waiting for all that paranoia to ripen until it breaks and the fears decend. We see it in other Fearscapes like the falling titan or the medical centre where there might be hours or days of relative peace, but the fear is still there and the victims still exist to suffer. I think the camera can also explain how Melanie and Georgie weren't visible to Jon even outside the tunnels, their fearscape relies on feeling "free" to some extent.

Furthermore, Jon still knew they where alive, so The Eye knew that aswell, it didn't hunt them down to put them in a fearscape however, and that was because they already were, they were just "freeranged" and The Eye just wanted to monitor their vitals.

Lastly, Helen knew where they where. I know she was better at navigating the tunnels than Jon in S4, but we know in S5, all power comes and goes through The Eye, it's how the smitings work, if she could find them so could The Eye.

Specificity

Basira inherited Daisy's Fearscape, allowing her to travel freely, but she was still in a Fearscape, having to endure all the horrors Daisy commited and then having to carry on, viewing the Fearscapes without Jons protection. Knowing this helps plug another hole in our original theory, which is that this is quite a specific Fearscape. We know some are small, Martin's only has a few dozen, but Basira's is just hers. This I think sets the president that although Melanie's and Georgie's Fearscape is highly unique it's still possible. (Maybe The Eye chooses unique ones for its Ex kids)

Georgie's Fear

I know people will bring up Georgie and I'll have to make a much longer post eventually but I think we've only ever been told how her power works from her POV, which I think is inaccurate. If we actually look at how she acts she does feel Fear, she just displays it as worry or anxietyusally for others. I think what Georgie actually is, is what everyone else is, an Avatar, specifically of the End. We only have one other End avatar, Oliver, but we see a numbing of emotions in him too. I think she's unable to feel fear like others because she's an End Avatar and that brings a dampening affect, for further proof see the book of the damned with Gerry and Eric, both who know it feels "bad" but still have their emotions dampened. Basically, Georgie is a misidentifyed Avatar and she can still feel Fear just not like she used to be able to.

What the Fear / FearScapeUK

Now what is their Fearscape? Firstly it doesn't fit nicely into the 14 but that's okay, we know in the apocalypse Smirks 14 is largely redundant. But their fear is simply their followers, both having this crushing fear of failing them, having to be the perfect leaders, and of losing them, which they always will. Just before S5 ends we see the Cycle about to restart.

Just Melanie and Georgie -> save a few -> save even more ("get greedy") -> lose a big chunk -> lose them all -> alone again, Repeat.

They'd go through this anguish over and over until the End consumes all, it allows them freedom like Basira and Daisy but they still only exist to suffer like those in every other Fearscape.

TL;DR Georgie and Melanie weren't lucky, they're Fearscape is them watching those they're supposed to protect being dragged of to torture whilst shouldering the guilt of being "spared".

[tikvin]

For the other durges you showed a while ago, which ones accepted/denied Baal? If they denied him do they have specific reasons for why?

Well this will be long, lol. I have full descriptions of my durges I plan to post separately for each, but I'll try to cut a lot to just accommodate to the question.

Some of them aren't that close to this matter, plus I'm waiting for evil epilogue to be added, I also have a bit of a soft spot for resisting durges because of that one camp scene in act 2, so most of them are resisting durges, just differ by smaller details like what quests they do/dont and who of PCs and NPCs dies and they kill during travels.

So, sorry for my boring durges :D

Eshra - I think you can already guess.

Vice is close to accepting Bhaal, because it likes Minthara a lot (even though it didn't initially sided with her) and she's is a bad influence. It already got the slayer form, also the first to consume the astral tadpole so far. How it will all end? Who knows, Vice loves Minthara and it's a novel concept for it, hence the drow is able to sway it's opinions, but Vice also likes to have a control over it's own body. So Vice is on precipice

Evann is THE evil Bhaalspawn™ 100%. With this one, I will tell for sure, they're a cruel evil bitch-bastard, but probably doesn't fully realize that their actions are considered cruel. For them it's pure curiosity and pursuit of fun, they are not concerned when they first have the urges. Probably remembers more than other Durges. Probably had relationships with Gortash.

Jericho is the one who was terrified and disgusted from the very start. I think it was easier for her to resist, because she is a wild magic sorcerer (who I headcanon to be masterful before amnesia) and she had to be careful from the very beginning. She's skittish, in constant internal panic, a coward when it comes to perspective of getting back her memories. She was the one who tried to fix everyone else's problems just to not face her own. She had a lot of growth during the travels and now researches bhaalspawn to prevent anything happening.

With Cadere (who will later rename themselve as Ithildin) is absolutely out of question, they will not be accepting Bhaal, simply because... Karlach. You see, that's a Karlach kisser in front of you, and with all anguish that this whole shit caused to her they just cannot allow that to happen. Cadere was indifferent at the start, which caused quite a few deaths, but Karach energy just rubbed on them and they did the ol switcheroo

Thana is all about freedom. Bhaal is out of question. Freedom for herself, freedom for everyone else, freedom!!! She probably planned to defy Bhaal somehow even before the tadpole.

Thalissa - No. No Bhaal, we're having fun kicking devils' asses in hell. Has hots for both Wyll and Karlach, and their righteous do-gooder demeanor rubs on her. Not completely tho, she's quite bloodthirsty on her own, which is why she's most likely going with them to hell to justly kill shit without consequences. At least if Karlach won't sacrifice herself for Orpheus. I planned more than one play through with her, so it's undecided, maybe she will have one game where she's evil, who knows

Mortis is very power hungry, even though their overall demeanor is quite chill. They might not go completely towards Bhaal but they're sure are tempted to kill Isobel...

Jago - was a simple person, but not dumb. No Bhaal. Much like Thana, he wanted freedom, and he teared and ripped and clawed for it. He wasn't very caring for others, but he got what he wanted, without hurting too much people.

[walrus150915]

The most random out-of-order Nimona headcanons I've scrambled out of my mind and put in my notes as coherent as I could bc there's a LOTTTT

• I don't think Nimona uses specific names to label her sexuality/gender. Was she in love with Gloreth? Maybe she was. Maybe she was not. Does she like boys? Who knows, she sure doesn't. What's her gender? Nimona. That's it

• I think Ballister did try to be the cis ally™ and figure out the label Nimona would use but she'd just shrug her shoulders and say "I don't know, boss, it seems like you care about it more than I do"

• And even though she's NOT a girl, she uses she/her pronouns because 💥YOUR PRONOUNS DON'T DEFINE YOUR GENDER💥 you may use she/her and not be a girl, he/him and not be a boy, I even saw cis people use they/them simply bc they're comfortable. And that's okay!

• Although she's comfortable with people calling her he/they/neopronouns you name it. Just. Not it/its. You know the reasons😬

• Nimona is left-handed and it's CANON actually I am SO HAPPY as a left-handed person she's just like me fr💥💥

• Nimona isn't a big fan of domestic bliss Ambrosius and Ballister spend most of their time in (plus they're very sappy and very much disgustingly in love, Nimona's stoic organism can't handle their mushiness for the dear life), she's like an independent cat I think: comes to hang out, eats, spends time with her father-not-really figures and goes away for weeks only to come back again. She travels the world my dudes✨

• I think she has a bunch of photos from the places she'd been to and talks about her adventures a lot!

• Nimona also is the best cook of the fam I'm afraid. Ballister cooks, like, the bare minimum to serve himself as a functioning adult (rice, salad, pasta, some meat like you know the deal) but nothing too complicated. Ambrosius is a nepo baby who's probably lived in palaces and mansions with dozens of servants do you really think he's good at cooking😭 as he distanced himself from the Institute and moved in with Bal I think he learnt to cook, still not great at it.

• Nimona though? SHE CAN DO *ANYTHING* like she's madly good at cooking. It might look like she's burning the kitchen down only to reveal that she was putting Gordon Ramsay to shame!

Speaking of BallBros

• Ballister's experience is close to a second gen immigrant. Ambrosius's experience is close to a third gen immigrant. They can't be immigrants bc of the context of the story?? I DON'T CARE☺

• Ambrosius doesn't speak his mother tongue except for like a few words or phrases he's heard at home. His older relatives probably make fun of him for it on family gatherings. His parents didn't teach him because they didn't want him to stick out (totally not self projecting here - yeah I'm a third gen immigrant hiii)

• Ballister tho? I think Urdu was his first language but he learned English along the way

• And it kinda mixes in his head so he forgets the words from both languages sometimes and replaces them with the word from the other one (HA my experience again)

• When he's experiencing hard emotions, be it anger, happiness, sadness, or is overwhelmed, he drops English entirely and just starts bantering in Urdu

• Ambrosius didn't know Ballister was bilingual but when he learnt it? He was amazed and I think... Kinda jealous because he didn't get to learn Korean himself (self projection yeahhhhhh)

• "You know your mother tongue? Damn! I wish I did too!"

• That said, Ballister has no idea how to shorten Ambrosius's name (WHAT THE HECK IS THIS NAME BRO WHAT ARE YOU, GOD'S FOOD???), so he sticks to Urdu endearments, "luv" (in the most British accent possible) and "darling"

People who say French/Spanish are the romantic languages are wrong LISTEN TO URDU OR INDIAN LANGUAGES OR ARABIC. THAT'S WHERE LOVE IS DUDE

• Ambrosius has learnt like a few words in Urdu and tries to rizz up Ballister by saying some basic words like "jaan", "mohabbat" and just😭😭😭 fails😭😭😭 because he's a cringefail man😭😭😭

I remember trying to ask out my (NOW EX😔) gf who's Italian by writing "will you be my girlfriend?" in Italian and I used GOOGLE TRANSLATION🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️ SHE UNDERSTOOD THAT I USED GOOGLE AND POINTED IT OUT AS A JOKE BUT I CRINGED AT MYSELF SO HARD..... Ambrosius would totally do that too and Ballister would chuckle and pull him in a kiss bc he loves this cringefail man so much

• Ambrosius also serenades like I KNOW DAMN WELL HE DOES. He goes "this one's for you, Bal" with a wink and sings like the sappiest most disgusting love ballad ever and Ballister tries his best not to laugh because that's his beloved boyfriend but also like.... So cringe. So embarrassing😭😭 Nimona has more balls than her boss so she would outright say that it's cringe

• Also. I don't agree with people saying Ambrosius's a jock because have you seen this man?? He's a theatre kid. The worst kind of theatre kid. Even after not being a kid anymore he's still a theatre kid. BRO IS A HAMILTON FAN UNIRONICALLY, OF COURSE HE IS. He makes weirdass references to musicals and giggles like an idiot

• Can we agree that Ambrosius was an awakening for many teenagers because OOOOH BOY he sure would be mine. Some pop news youtube channel probably has a video of him reading the kingdom's equivalent of "thirst tweets", like yknow this type of vids😭😭

While we're on the topic of thirst tweets

• Diego the squire runs a fan page account with edits of Ballister like he's some pop celebrity

• He also may or may not write self-indulgent "Ballister x reader" fanfiction in his off duty time

• Also hc that when Ballister was on the run he saw some "WANTED" poster of him and hang up on the wall like yeah boy's crush is EMBARRASSING (can we blame him? I'm the same with Riz Ahmed)

• Todd would be on the "straight" side of their equivalent to TikTok. You know the ones with shirtless men with the same haircuts who think they're hot when in reality they're not?? That's what Todd and his friends are up to in their free time *throws up*

To wrap it all up NOT with Todd, some super random ones:

• Ballister and Ambrosius force Nimona to take her shoes off ("DO NOT bring your European nonsense in this ethnic household") in their house even though she doesn't even have boots on😭😭 it's just her skin😭😭😭 so she morphs her form to simply be shoeless😭😭😭😭

• Ambrosius knows how to tap dance. Idk don't question it I just think he does

• Nimona plays piano YEAH SHE DOES she's lived for 1000+ years man she can do anything

• Ballister's hair routine is "genetics, coconut oil n some prayers"

Yeah that's it I'll probably make a part 2 because it's not all... These characters have occupied my mind and won't let it go🧍‍♂️

[trashrattt]

The autism beast is speaking so I must explain to you why Cyn and Uzi are direct parallels to Aelita and William and could potentially be each other in a different universe

⚠️Warning,⚠️

Anyways, Copper 9 doesn't take place in any sort of digital place, we can skip that part (unless you count episode 5? But I wont)

In universe, Aelita is currently one (?) of the main characters in this story, looking for her dad that unintentionally caused a deadly self-autonomic virus to spread (him being the creator of said virus)

In universe, Uzi doesnt focus on finding her as much, but encounters her mother that knows much about a self-automic virus, even being (unintentionally) used to spread it (the virus starts spreading after one drones was unproperly disassembled)

Both help out them in their time of need, though still rarely shown in show until the near-end

(Also I have to mention they had an extremely important backstory that led up to them leaving then finding their child again)

Both Uzi and Aelita are (temporarily) possessed by the virus at multiple points in show and the virus shows itself only in their eyes

(Also not something I really need to point out but both have abnormally colored anime hair),

Near the (startish-middle?) to two people who unintentionally will cross paths with said virus

(I don't nessicarilly need to point this out they both have black messy hair, whatever I can do what I want)

Anyways the only difference between the two is that William simply got posessed while Tessa- Uhm....Got herself skinned alive and worn as a cosplay for Cyn to wear, oops

Though these events don't happen, they both pretend they're fine and dandy for a bit

(I adore Cyns constant mentioning of being human in case she wasn't selling her point across, its silly)

Both eventually reveal who they truly are (that being Xana and Absolute solver) and spends their time active by chasing said character being helped out by their lost parental figure

Alsoooo story beats aside, Cyns ability to fast travel™ is simular to Williams supersmoke...in a weird way

Who cares if this is a stretch at least one other person will get it

(Sorrey I couldn't find a gif for Will)

ALSO ALSO

Idk if it's just me but like the said virus absolutely screaming in agony by the end of the series because they're actually getting killed is so weirdly specific towards each other?????

(Aaaand also the things that led to their point of being used as a ploy to said virus had a clear animal motif, that of a jellyfish and that of a snake but I digress that isn't really imortant...)

Anyways this was my weird stretch of an analysis, I'll now go and sit and die off slowly just like Tessa did