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chimcess · 1 month ago

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Nachash || jhs

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (ft. Taehyung) Genre: Supernatural AU, Demon!Hoseok, Med Student!Reader, Smut, One night stand, Angst, Horror AU, Incubus! Hoseok, 90s AU, Yandere!AU Rating: 18+ (don’t interact if you’re a minor) Word Count: 21.4k+ Summary: After the loss of both of her parents, Y/N decided to sell their home in Florida and move back to New York City, a place that she has little memories of despite 10 years of living in Harlem. Her world begins to shift, and she starts to lose sight of dreams and reality, and at the center of it all is Hoseok, a sweet man who gives her a strange sense of deja vu, but she can’t help but wonder if he is who he says he is and why a strange bar keeps popping up in her nightmares. Warnings: Strong language, bad medical terminology (I tried), Hoseok has a demon side (like physically different), main character (somewhat) death (graphic), graphic violence, reader slowly losing her mind, heavy religious themes in a large chunk of this, explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, rough sex, manhandling, hard dom Hoseok, so much blood, low-key a yandere but not really, blood play, blood drinking, begging for life, extreme emotional manipulation, growling, over stimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it up), DARK ENDING, dubious consent (mind control/mood control/literally cannot leave Hoseok's presence), reader is severely mentally ill by the end of this, demonic possession, Stockholm syndrome, this is not a cute demon romance, read at your own risk, stopping here since there’s a lot just let me know if I missed anything A/N: After posting a teaser for this fic two years ago, I finally got around to finishing it! I’m still working on my smut skills, so I apologize in advance, but I hope you can get down with my favorite (and extremely evil) demon man. Happy Halloween (or, to my fellow Pagans, Happy Samhain)!

Prologue || Listen to the Playlist || Cross posted on AO3: here

Nachash (noun) "snake; serpent". Derived from the Hebrew root n-ch-sh.

July 1997

"How are you feeling?"

I sighed, pulling open another box. Unpacking was always the worst part of moving, like some cosmic joke designed to break you down piece by piece. Plates stared back at me from the box, and I clenched my jaw. The one on top was chipped—another thing on my growing list of replacements. I pulled it out and set it aside, determined to deal with it later. The rest of the plates went away in the cabinet. The broken one would be tossed.

"I don't know," I confessed. "Mom died. I'm everywhere."

My brother's hum of acknowledgment was all I heard. Miles had always been a quiet, distant sort, barely speaking to our parents. Their deaths hit him hard, but more so with Dad than Mom. Dad had been the stable one, while Mom was a relentless storm—never satisfied, constantly pushing, always demanding. To her, a doctor and a lawyer weren't enough. Miles had always seen her as aggressive, unyielding, and ever discontented. And Dad? Well, his complacency had its own way of grating.

Miles had moved to Oregon right after graduating from FSU, never looking back. We'd made the trek to see him a few times, but he'd never returned the favor. My stint in New York had mended our relationship somewhat. He visited frequently and spent his summers with me, and after Dad passed, he made a point to see Mom at least once a year. I didn't mind the trips to Portland; my Jacksonville home had become his family's vacation spot.

"So am I," he said, his voice betraying a hint of fatigue.

They'd been at each other's throats, arguing constantly, with his wife loathing Mom. Yet, I knew Miles held some affection for her despite their tumultuous relationship. He'd never truly made her proud, and that haunted him. I understood, but when I moved back home, the dynamics shifted. Mom used me as a weapon against Miles, making me the favored child, the one who came back. Miles was the ungrateful one who'd married the wrong woman.

Mom always blamed Trinity for Miles' "bad attitude." Dad knew better. I knew better.

"So," Miles shifted gears, "when can we come and visit?"

I smiled, "I'll be out there for Thanksgiving and Christmas. So maybe next summer?"

"That's a long wait."

I chuckled, "Well, Rory starts school this year and Trinity's pregnant. You're just as busy as I am."

I'd been the one with the most on my plate for years. Mom, a real estate agent, rarely left home, while Dad ran a plumbing company. When Miles went to college, I was knee-deep in medical school applications. During my residency, Miles was grinding through law school. When I moved back to Florida, I was buried in ICU shifts while he graduated and started his own practice. He met Trinity, and the two became inseparable. Mom despised her, but I saw how they brought out the best in each other. My career-driven life had left me disconnected, and while Mom reveled in it, I resented it.

Kids changed everything for them. Aurora was their miracle baby. Trinity had struggled with fertility for years, and when they finally had a child, it was as if their world had transformed. My brother was spent, and Mom's resentment boiled over. She was always bitter that they hadn't uprooted their lives back to Florida for the grandchild. By then, Miles didn't care. He'd made the trips for Dad but after Mom's cruel comments about Trinity's weight and their daughter being "too pretty" to be her granddaughter, Aurora never set foot in the family home again.

"Aurora is driving me crazy," Miles groaned. "She won't stop talking about the baby."

"As a big sister, I can tell you she's just being a normal kid."

"I know that," I could almost hear his eye roll. "I'm just worried. It's still early, and I don't want her hopes to get too high. Trinity's scared of another miscarriage."

It would be her sixth.

"Try to stay positive, bub," I bit my lip, surveying the cluttered room. I'd never finish today. "If it happens, it happens. But don't go into it expecting the worst."

"Between Mom and this…" He trailed off.

I understood his fear. Trinity was a few years older than me, and her anxiety was palpable. At 38, any pregnancy brought its own set of worries. Last I heard, Trinity was considering getting her tubes tied if this one didn't make it. The heartache was becoming unbearable.

"Hey," I kept my tone gentle, knowing that riling him up wouldn't help. "Keep your head up. Her next appointment is soon. Ensure she's sticking to bedrest, and you'll be fine."

"What if it happens again?"

My heart broke for him. Miles had always been the rock, the one who seemed unshakeable. Seeing him this vulnerable starkly contrasted with the angry kid he'd been in high school. Mom had pushed his buttons mercilessly, and I had vague memories of our squabbles, but they paled compared to the constant battles he faced with her.

I wondered if he ever grasped how I felt. He always thought Mom liked me more, but it was more about her being able to overlook me. While he fought for her attention, nothing I did ever really mattered. It was like a fog followed me, obscuring me from their view. Sometimes, it would lift, and Mom would acknowledge me, but then it would return, and I was forgotten.

"You'll get through it," I assured him.

We chatted a bit more. Aurora was excited about kindergarten and had picked out new uniforms. She was obsessed with Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood, and her new backpack reflected that. She'd even given her Prince Wednesday stuffed animal to the baby. It was everyday family life, but the emptiness in my chest grew. I longed for laughter and the innocent joy of children in my home.

"Trinity's calling me," Miles said, his voice muffled by distance.

"I'll talk to you later. Love you."

"Love you too, sissy."

I smiled faintly, "Later."

He hung up before I could say anything else. I glanced around the room, eyes narrowing at the boxes that seemed to taunt me with their mere existence. All of them were my own—mainly books, a few other odds and ends. The sadness that gripped me was relentless. I'd always had the most demanding job, the tightest schedule, and the deepest insecurities. Miles was angry, and I was desperate to be seen, so much so that I followed every command without question. Now, here I was, alone, surrounded by regret.

Dating felt like a cruel joke. My time in New York had alienated me more than anything else. That fog of invisibility from my childhood had returned with a vengeance. Coworkers would barely look at me for over a second; people on the street seemed oblivious to my presence and dates. They always ended badly. They weren't evil men but would forget my name within seconds. It felt like I wasn't real, like I existed on some other plane.

The only person who seemed to remember I existed anymore was my brother and his family. Dad's Alzheimer's had robbed him of any memory of us before he passed. Mom, too incoherent at Hospice, never stayed awake long enough to acknowledge my presence. Sometimes, it felt like Miles would momentarily forget me, only for my name to pop into his mind at predictable intervals—like clockwork, only calling on specific days and times, usually if he was planning a trip. It upset me more than I could recall, but now I wondered why.

"This place won't unpack itself," I muttered aloud.

I'd talked to myself so much it felt almost normal. I knew I needed to make friends, that without connections, I'd end up as lonely as my father, but the idea seemed futile. No one saw me clearly. No one ever had. When I searched my memories for anyone who had seen me, I came up empty. No one had ever really seen me. No one ever would. Instinctively, I knew this despite the facade of normalcy I tried to maintain. I had a job, a family, a house. I wasn't haunted. Or… maybe I was just being childish. I was simply forgettable, unremarkable. This I knew.

"I exist," I whispered, the words reverberating loudly in the stillness of my apartment.

The silence that pervaded my life mocked me with its omnipresence.

"How the hell do you get lost in a bar?"

"It's a lounge, sha," came a voice behind me.

What a peculiar dream. I took a bite of my sandwich, returning to the rude awakening that morning. I rarely remembered my dreams, if I had them at all. But last night had been different. I'd found myself in a dimly lit room with a man I couldn't recall clearly, dressed in white and speaking with an accent I couldn't place. I woke up before anything significant happened. The dream had been woefully uneventful.

The floor was almost eerily quiet tonight. Aside from the constant beeps and monitors scattered around and George Gilmore in room 11 watching football, no one spoke. The nurses here seemed less lively than I was accustomed to, their faces vacant, their words few. I kept to my small office most of the night, avoiding their station.

We'd had one death so far—a patient with a DNR who suffered a stroke shortly after midnight. Another woman had been pronounced brain-dead an hour ago. We'd wait until tomorrow to pull the plug, so her daughter could say goodbye. I didn't count her in my tally. The night crew had a way of seeing me even less than the others, and I didn't like them much.

"Hello, Doctor."

I jumped, startled. At least he had the decency to look sheepish. My irritation took me by surprise. I wasn't typically agitated; my feelings were either muted or overwhelming. He pushed his hair back, revealing messy chocolate brown locks, and held a clipboard stained with dubious marks.

"Sorry," he mumbled, shifting awkwardly under my gaze. I was already weary of his presence. "I was told you were new and thought I should introduce myself before leaving for the night. I'm Damon Glass, one of the anesthesiologists."

"Y/N Y/L/N," I replied, my voice flat and uninviting. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," he smiled, showing a gap between his front teeth that reminded me of my father's. It was a rare sight among people my age. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to come to me. Dr. Whitlock is on the floor, and I believe Morgan Fletcher is on call."

I nodded, appreciating the information but ready for him to leave. My distaste had faded, but I preferred brevity in conversations, especially with outsiders. I disliked the feeling of interacting with them. It was why I preferred dealing with the nearly dead; they rarely spoke, and when they did, I knew they'd be too medicated to remember much. The families were more accessible to handle than the ones back in Florida.

It was odd how my thoughts could veer into such morbid territories. Almost as morbid as my enjoyment of overseeing dying patients. It was not as macabre as my unbidden glee at my mother's death alongside my brother, but it ranked high on my list of flaws.

"Have a good night," I said, returning to my computer to refresh my emails.

Dr. Glass seemed to take the hint, leaving with an awkward smile and wave.

August 1997

I stood outside the door, the muffled sounds of grief seeping through the walls like a relentless, jagged current. The family's sorrow was palpable, a heavy fog that followed me down the hallway. I hoped to catch them in a better moment, but the cruel truth of this place was that better moments were rare. With a resigned breath, I raised my hand and knocked. The room fell silent, and a strained voice called out, allowing me to enter.

Elizabeth Fraiser had lived a life filled with grace and elegance. Once a dancer whose feet had carried her across Europe's stages, she met her husband in Paris and married him there. They had settled in New York, where her days of ballet had given way to a quieter role as a ballet instructor in Jersey. She had raised a family, and her pride in her children was as evident as her passion for dance. She spoke of them with a joy that contrasted sharply with the emptiness of my own mother's words.

Now, Elizabeth was in the late stages of lung cancer. Her family had clung to the hope of letting her pass away at home, but the relentless pneumonia and ceaseless pain had pushed them to make the difficult decision to admit her here. Her condition had worsened sharply today, and her family was struggling to cope with the harsh reality.

"Good afternoon," I said softly, a gentle murmur in the oppressive silence.

"Nice to see you," Elizabeth's oldest son, Elijah, managed a weak smile. We both knew he wasn't fond of doctors, but he tolerated me because I didn't overstay my welcome. "Mom's been sleeping for a while."

I stifled a sigh. Her body was crumbling, and delivering bad news was never easy. The small comfort was knowing she would soon feel nothing at all. We planned to increase her morphine dosage and withdraw all other medications. Her family would need to agree, but I wasn't too concerned. Mary, her daughter, had debated extending her mother's life with her brothers.

"We're really at the end, aren't we?" Mary's voice was strained, her husband's arm around her for support. Among them, she was the calmest, but the edges of her composure were frayed. Her eyes were red, testimony to her unrelenting tears. "Will she be in pain?"

I explained our focus on alleviating her suffering. She would be less coherent in the coming days but occasionally rouse enough to interact with them between doses. We aimed to ensure she had the utmost comfort and relief in her final days. The youngest Percy took the news hardest and had to excuse himself. I held Mary's hand, appreciating the warmth of human connection. I prided myself on my bedside manner.

"I know home care wasn't ideal for you," I broached delicately, aware of their crowded lives and young children. "But I'm offering it as an option. Respite care is also available, though I understand it was stressful before. It's worth discussing."

Elijah shook his head firmly. Mary hesitated, but her husband's reminder to care for herself and their baby swayed her. Percy's wife raised concerns about her own health, cementing the decision. Elizabeth would remain with us in her final days. It was probably for the best—she was too frail and in too much agony without constant medication.

"Let me know if you need anything," I said, glancing at the family. The nurses are always available, and I'm on call until six. Is there anything I can get you before I leave?"

"Mom needs a bath," Percy reentered the room. A nurse had come by earlier, asking if we were ready to step out. Let them know they could come in."

The rest of my shift dragged on. Other families were terse and uncommunicative, and their responses were minimal. I understood their grief, but it did little to ease my weary spirit. The nurses seemed as disinterested in me as ever. I had long since given up trying to connect with them.

The air outside was crisp, almost biting. I walked to the subway, the city traffic too maddening to endure. I'd trade bumper-to-bumper frustration for the quirks of the subway any day. Last week, a man in a bunny costume rapped at six in the morning. The week before, a man argued with his reflection in the window. Last night, an elderly woman beside me commented on my disheveled appearance, lamenting that men didn't like that and worrying I'd die alone. I barely remember if I responded. I hated talking on the subway; her parting insult had stung me.

Tonight promised to be different. I left the hospital later than usual, after two code blues and an injury report for a nurse. Overdue paperwork and an insurance squabble later, it was past eight when I left. My walk was short, and the wait at the terminal was OK, but the train didn't arrive until 9:30. When I finally boarded, the car was almost empty.

Then a group of men entered. They were rowdy, pushing each other, their drunkenness a stifling cloud. I almost moved when they sat too close, but I didn't want to draw attention. I could feel their eyes on me. I clutched my bag tightly, fingers brushing the can of pepper spray hooked to its strap. I was almost home. Just three more stops.

"Hey," one of the men called out. I ignored him. "Hey, you."

I hated the subway.

"Leave her alone."

That voice caught my attention. I knew it—or thought I did. When I looked up, I was met with a stranger, yet his presence felt oddly familiar. He was striking, with tanned skin and sharp features that made his brown eyes stand out under the harsh fluorescent lights. He took the seat beside mine, and I didn't stop him. The men were back to their raucous laughter, and I was forgotten. I relaxed slightly, hoping to remain unnoticed.

"Sorry about them," he said, his warm and soothing voice a gentle tenor that evoked a sense of nostalgia. "Are you OK?"

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze. Something about him tugged at the edges of my memory, yet he wasn't a celebrity, and I was sure I'd never met him before. Perhaps we'd crossed paths on the subway? My brain was playing tricks on me.

"Yes," I said softly. "Thank you."

Despite myself, I stole glances at him. I had to remind myself to breathe when I ventured past his neck. He was slender, but there was a subtle strength beneath his clothes. If he noticed my scrutiny, he said nothing. He returned to his book, but I was convinced that his eyes were still on me when I finally looked away.

I jolted awake, my body wracked with shivers despite the suffocating warmth of the blanket. The room was deathly silent, save for the moonlight streaming through the window like a spotlight on a stage set for a performance I never auditioned for. I rolled over, trying to bury myself deeper into the cocoon of my blanket, but then I heard it—a voice, soft and faint, yet carrying an unsettling authority.

“Oh, Y/N,” the voice crooned, dripping with a sinister allure. “It’s time. Come to me.”

Confusion and dread clawed at my insides as I stumbled out of bed. The room was a far cry from my own—stone walls, thick and oppressive, casting shadows that seemed to dance with malevolent glee. The floor beneath my feet was icy, a stark contrast to the comfort of my bed. My nightgown, white and delicate, felt like a mockery in this alien environment.

This wasn’t my room.

The voice came again, seductive and commanding. “Y/N, come out, come out, now. I’m waiting for you.”

Compelled, I moved to the window. Below, in the moonlit expanse of the lawn, stood the man from the subway. His face was eerily illuminated, his head tilted back as if inviting me to join him in the darkness below. His eyes—glowing a brilliant gold—seemed to reach out to me, promising unspeakable things if only I would take the leap.

I couldn’t tear my gaze away. He raised a hand, crooking a finger in a silent invitation. It was as if an invisible thread was pulling me toward him. Entranced, my feet moved on their own accord. Barefoot, the cold stone beneath me was a cruel contrast to the warmth I’d just left behind. I wandered through hallways and passages that felt simultaneously foreign and intimately known, descending into the shadows where he waited.

As I emerged onto the lawn, his smile made me shiver. He approached, his fingers brushing the side of my face—teasing, tantalizing, yet never quite touching.

“I’ve waited for you for so long,” he murmured, his voice a velvet caress. “So very long. And now, now you’re mine.”

A fragment of my mind screamed in protest, shouting that I didn’t belong to him, that I didn’t even know who he was or why I was here. But a deeper, more primal force tugged at me, pulling me closer until I was nearly touching him. His presence was unsettlingly soothing, and I took a breath, feeling the heat of his gaze.

“That’s right, my lamb, come closer,” he coaxed.

An overwhelming longing surged through me—irrational, illogical, yet so profound that I couldn’t resist. I needed him to touch me, to make the connection complete. I tilted my head to the side, exposing my neck to the moonlight.

He responded immediately, his fingers trailing along my throat, their cool touch sending shivers through me. I gasped, my body lighting up with each delicate brush.

“More,” I heard myself plead, pressing closer.

“Say it,” he demanded, his arms enveloping me in a possessive embrace. “Who do you belong to?”

“You. I’m yours.”

He cradled my head in his hand, leaning in. His lips were smooth against my skin, but his teeth were sharp as they pierced through flesh. I screamed as he drank deeply.

I awoke with a start, sitting up in bed, my hands clutching at my throat, searching for any sign of injury. The skin was intact, unbroken. I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm my racing heart that felt as though it might burst from my chest.

The lamp flickered on with a click, casting a harsh, unwelcome light that made me squint and shield my eyes. Grabbing my robe and a cup, I shuffled out of the room, the chill of the hallway hitting me like a slap. I closed the door quietly behind me, trying not to disturb the oppressive silence that hung heavy in the air. The bathroom, bathed in the sickly fluorescent glow, was as deserted as I’d hoped.

I filled my cup halfway with water from one of the sinks, then leaned against the cold, sterile tiles, watching my reflection in the mirror as I took slow, deliberate sips. The dream—the one that had shaken me awake—felt so unnervingly real.

I traced the line of my neck with trembling fingers, the blue vein just beneath the surface. What kind of twisted message was my mind trying to send me with that nightmare? It had been a full-on gothic horror—a relic of some crumbling English manor, not the kind of place I ever imagined myself visiting, unless I was buried in a pile of classic literature.

And him. The monster. Even now, as I closed my eyes, I could still see his face—a blend of dark allure and cruel beauty. His eyes, oh, those eyes. They’d held me in thrall, made me willing to surrender to any demand he made. I could almost feel his cold touch, see his smile that promised both ecstasy and agony.

Wasn’t the whole vampire-mother-stuff supposed to be a metaphor for sex? Maybe that’s what my subconscious was trying to shove in my face—sex, or the glaring void where it should have been in my life.

I studied my flushed reflection, feeling the heat in my cheeks. I shook my head, trying to shake off the nightmare’s grip.

The man sat next to me again. It had been a week since I last saw him, and my body still reacted to his presence. Today, I admired his chiseled jawline and elongated face. He was an exquisite oval with a strong profile. This time, he caught me looking and smiled shyly.

"I'm Hoseok."

The name sent a shiver, stirring something familiar and unsettling. I quickly brushed off the uneasy feeling. It was probably my own insecurity.

"Y/N," I replied, unable to tear my gaze away from him.

He resumed reading, and I focused on crocheting a stuffed rabbit for my nephew. Miles had called that morning to update me on Trinity's appointment. The toy wasn't perfect—far from it—but I wanted to give it a try.

"How would you feel about dinner?" Hoseok's voice broke through my thoughts.

I paused my knitting. "I enjoy dinner. Who doesn't?"

He chuckled, a rich, velvety sound that made me blush. "Cheeky."

I bit my lip, unsure if it was a compliment. I felt a pang of embarrassment, struggling to maintain my composure. The first date I'd been asked on since undergrad, and I was fumbling. Miles would have a field day.

"Would you like dinner with me?"

I hesitated. "Yes."

Hoseok's laughter resonated deeply within me, and I felt a jolt of warmth as he slid closer, his knee brushing against mine. He was impossibly warm. Instinctively, I shifted away, uncomfortable with his proximity. There was something off about him, an unsettling vibe that I couldn't quite place.

But then he smiled, and that soft, disarming grin evaporated all my doubts. He was dazzling. My eyes fluttered shut as his cologne enveloped me, weakening my knees. I had to remind myself to breathe. He was captivating.

"Do you like Italian?" he asked, his voice deeper now.

I nodded, struggling to steady my breath. Panic and embarrassment churned within me, but I couldn't ignore the physical response. My mind was flooded with inappropriate thoughts of Hoseok, vivid and intrusive. I gasped, feeling a flush of heat I hadn't experienced in a long time.

"Does two weeks work?"

Snapping out of my daze, I looked at Hoseok and nodded.

"I'm off on the 27th."

He smiled, and I stared at his teeth longer than necessary. They seemed different—sharper, perhaps, with redder gums. I blinked, reassured that they were just as I remembered. My sleep deprivation must be getting to me.

"Meet you here?"

We agreed to meet at six. I'd catch the 5:30 train to ensure I arrived before him. As the subway pulled into my stop, I waved goodbye and stepped out, only to realize I hadn't asked him where we were going. The thought lingered until the following day.

The voice is louder now, sharper, as if it’s cutting through the fog of my half-sleep. “Y/N? I’m waiting for you. Come to me now.”

I hear it, feel the tug of it dragging me towards him, but fear clamps down on me like a vice. My bare feet are numb on the cold, wet grass as I stumble through the twisting maze of hedges, trying to escape the invisible force that pulls me like iron to a magnet.

My breath hitches, coming fast and uneven, as I sprint around corners, the long white gown tangling around my legs and tripping me up. I’m not sure anymore if I’m searching for a way out or if I’m trying to find him.

I turn another corner, my ankle twists and pain shoots through my leg as I crash into an open space—a small, white fountain sits in the middle, surrounded by benches.

Through the flickering light of the moon dancing on the water, I see him. Not a figment of my imagination, but there he is, standing as he promised, waiting.

Hoseok walks towards me with a slow, deliberate grace. He bends, lifting me effortlessly from the mess of my tangled gown and into his arms. I feel a peculiar sense of completeness as he sits on a bench, cradling me like a precious artifact.

“Were you bringing me your gift? Or were you trying to run from me?” His voice is soft, almost tender, and yet it cuts through me. I open my mouth to speak, but no sound comes. I’m lost, adrift in confusion.

I’m mesmerized by his flawless beauty. My fingers move of their own accord, reaching towards his face. That smile returns, and I see the satisfaction in his eyes.

“You may touch me.” His lips part slightly, and I press my fingers against them. His tongue flicks out, wrapping around my fingertip and drawing it into his mouth. Before I can react, I feel a sharp bite.

I gasp as he licks the blood that wells up from the small wound. “A small treat,” he murmurs. “That’s why you came, isn’t it?”

I find myself nodding, helpless under his gaze.

He licks my finger one last time, savoring the taste before swallowing. “They told me you’d be extraordinary, worth every moment of waiting. Yet, your taste is beyond anything I ever dreamed.”

My body reacts to his words and his touch—still innocent but making my skin feel like it’s stretched too tight, like I might explode. I let my head fall back, exposing my neck to him as his tongue traces a path up the sensitive skin.

And then he bites.

I bolt awake, heart pounding as if it might burst from my chest. I fumble in the dark, reaching for the light switch, feeling profoundly alone with Rose away for the weekend.

I throw off the covers and stagger to the mirror, desperately checking my neck. There’s nothing there, no sign of the bite.

A cold shiver runs down my spine. I grab a blanket and a book, and huddle in the hall lounge, surrounded by the harsh light of every lamp and the incessant flicker of the television, trying to drive away the lingering shadows of the nightmare.

September 1997

I eased into my seat, the familiar weight of my bag pressed to my left side and draped an arm over it as if to claim it for my own. It was the first night off from the relentless grind of being on-call since mid-August and the first real night out in years. I’d never been much for the party scene, and medical school had only sharpened that aversion. The last time I went out for drinks was nearly six years ago, a fleeting memory of bar hopping that I’d abandoned early, too exhausted to keep pace with my friends.

Tonight, however, felt different. There was a nagging sense that I was misremembering that long-ago night, like a foggy half-remembered dream where something vital was missing. My life in New York had become a blur of medical texts and sleepless shifts, the grueling 24-hour days erasing the finer details of my existence. My final year had been a carousel of discomfort, but the specifics eluded me, lost in exhaustion. Perhaps a creep of some sort, some misguided doctor with a name I couldn’t quite grasp—maybe that’s what had soured my memory.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled to find Hoseok’s contact. The old SeaTAC was still a relic of the past, but I clung to it out of stubborn habit. Despite its age, it was a lifeline to the outside world, a way to escape the pager’s relentless beeping. I longed for the day when I could toss the landline, but the cost of cell phone minutes constantly reminded me of its importance. With his endless chatter, Miles made sure I burned through those minutes with alarming frequency.

“Hello?” Hoseok’s voice was silky, a comforting balm after a long stretch of clinical detachment.

“Hey,” I breathed, trying to keep my voice steady. “Just got on.”

“See you soon,” he said, his tone warm and reassuring. I could almost picture the smile on his face, and it made me smile in return. His words seemed more benign over the phone, starkly contrasting the intensity of our recent encounters. “Save my spot.”

The car was beginning to fill up, Friday night revelers claiming their space, making it nearly impossible to save a seat. I promised I’d try, even as I felt the crushing inevitability of the crowd. His chuckle was soft, almost intimate.

“Thank you, sweet girl.”

I bit my lip, the endearment both flattering and unsettling. A tiny voice in my head cautioned me, even though Hoseok had never used his terms of affection demeaningly. The voice grew louder when he wasn’t around, whispering warnings I couldn’t entirely dismiss. It was strange, this constant inner debate.

“I’m going to hang up,” Hoseok said, his voice a sensual murmur. I moved the phone away from my ear, puzzled by the seductive undertone. Was he implying something more?

Was I expecting more from tonight?

“I’m running up my minutes,” he laughed, breaking the spell of my thoughts.

“Oh,” I blinked, snapping out of my reverie. “Sorry. See you in a bit.”

The recurring dreams of him were becoming a distraction. My nights were plagued with vivid, unsettling fantasies, leaving me restless and frazzled. I wiggled in my seat, pressing my thighs together to quell the unsettling arousal. Reality would surely disappoint, no matter how compelling he seemed in my dreams. I resolved to hold off on sex for now. I didn’t want to tarnish his allure with premature intimacy.

“Why did you want to be a doctor?” Hoseok asked, his fingers entwining with mine.

The wine started hitting, and the night air was crisp against my skin. Hoseok was the perfect gentleman; the evening was a beautiful respite from my routine. I leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body, and sighed.

“I wish I could say it was for noble reasons,” I said, my voice tinged with melancholy. “In truth, I just wanted my family to notice me. I thought graduating medical school would make them see me, but it never quite worked out that way.”

Hoseok hummed thoughtfully beside me. I turned my gaze away, feeling a strange mix of comfort and sadness.

“None of us are perfect,” he said after a pause, his voice low and contemplative. “I’ve made my share of mistakes, and my choices haven’t always been noble.”

I leaned closer, savoring his warmth and intoxicating scent. Despite my fatigue, the night felt lighter, almost magical. He was mesmerizing, and I was drawn to him in a way I hadn’t expected.

“I have a hard time believing that,” I said with a soft grin, snuggling closer.

“Well,” he said, his arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me into his side. “You haven’t had me all to yourself yet.”

A shiver ran down my spine, a curious blend of fear and delight. The night had been a rollercoaster of emotions—enchantment and apprehension intertwined. Hoseok’s smile was disarming, melting away my unease, but I made a mental note to reflect on my feelings once I was alone. He seemed almost too perfect, and that nagging pit in my stomach grew again before vanishing.

“I don’t want the night to end,” Hoseok whispered, his breath warm against my ear as we waited for the train. “I’m having such a good time.”

I smiled, “What kind of girl do you take me for?”

“When can I see you again?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine longing.

“Soon,” I promised. “I’m getting the next few weekends off now that the other fellowship student is starting. My supervisor is trying to get me off every Saturday.”

“It’s a good thing my boss is flexible,” Hoseok purred, causing my heart to race. “Otherwise, I’d never get to spend time with you.”

I wanted to be annoyed by his clinginess, to remind him I wasn’t his girlfriend, but instead, I found myself grinning. His words made me feel seen and appreciated. Despite the anxiety he sometimes stirred in me, I was eager to be close to him. He looked at me so intently that I was willing to overlook my reservations. Maybe it was just butterflies?

“Where do you work?” I asked, trying to divert my thoughts.

Hoseok was a bartender at a speakeasy in Manhattan, where he’d worked since it opened. He had hinted at it throughout the evening, teasing me with its obscurity.

“It’s a smaller place,” he said amusedly. “You’ve probably never heard of it.”

“Try me,” I challenged, my heart pounding strangely.

“Dauphine.”

The name hit me like a jolt. Images of dimly lit corridors and crimson hues flashed in my mind. I was sure I’d never been there, but the name stirred a disquieting sense of déjà vu. The dream from July, the man from my dreams—there was a connection, but it eluded me.

As we stood in the bustling, well-lit area, I edged away slightly, unsettled. Hoseok was a charming gentleman, but the name “Dauphine” had ignited an inexplicable dread. Despite his humor and warmth, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something—or maybe I was just afraid of what I might find.

I stole a furtive glance at him, and it felt as though I’d known him far longer than the scant time we’d spent together. His face was oddly familiar, like a recurring image in a dream half-remembered. I had met him before, somewhere.

“No, you haven’t,” his voice cut through the night like ice. It was cold, detached, far from the warmth he’d shown me all evening. A shiver snaked down my spine, and I forgot to breathe. His grip on me tightened as though sensing my legs would buckle beneath me. “You’ve never known me before.”

The fierce scowl on his face startled me. His eyes, glowing with an eerie golden light, seemed to burn through me. Everything about him felt otherworldly like he was something less than human. A fragmented memory of a man sitting alone at a bar surged up, only to dissolve into nothingness.

“I am Hoseok,” he whispered, his voice weaving a heavy spell over my senses. “I am your boyfriend. We’ve been together a long time, and we’re in love. You just tripped and hit your head.”

A sudden jolt of pain made me wince and try to pull away from him.

“Does it hurt?” His voice was deceptively tender, and I sighed through the pain.

“Yes,” I groaned, rubbing my forehead. “Does it look bad?”

Hoseok’s grin was unsettling, a blend of fake sympathy and amusement.

“You were lucky this time. Just a barely noticeable red mark.”

I chuckled at my own clumsiness. I wasn’t usually this awkward, but my heel caught on a pavement crack. I gingerly rubbed my ankle and was relieved to find it unscathed. Even my heel had survived.

“Jeez,” I said, looping my arm through his. “I completely forgot what we were talking about.”

Hoseok’s smile broadened, clearly enjoying my disoriented state. I rolled my eyes and reached over to gently tap his chest. He responded by sticking out his tongue, which only made me scoff at his childishness.

“We were talking about work,” I said.

I nodded as if on autopilot. “How’s the bar?”

Hoseok worked at a swanky speakeasy in Manhattan, though I was trying to remember its name. Despite being together for what felt like ages, I had never been there. I was never one for bars, while Hoseok reveled in the place’s gothic charm. The name eluded me again as I tried to recall it.

“Tae’s excited,” he chuckled. “With Halloween around the corner, business will pick up.”

I hummed, my thoughts still lingering on the name. I had thought his boss was Tristan, but I must have misremembered. I shrugged off the nagging thought.

“You should stop by the bar,” I heard myself say, sounding oddly mechanical.

“Sounds fun,” he replied, his tone laced with a predatory edge.

Looking back on that night, it’s almost laughable how easily he swayed me. The way he possessed me was undeniable; soon, he would own every inch of me. Those dreams of him were his twisted way of showing love—how much he craved to touch me, to keep me bound to him. It’s sick and vile, and the thought of what we’d become makes me nauseous, yet to him, it’s love.

“Let’s get you home,” he said, his arm wrapping possessively around my shoulders.

I remember leaning into his side, kissing his cheek as if I was floating. His presence was intoxicating. Even now, I can feel the ghost of his touch and his body's heat. It’s a twisted sort of longing I have for him. This place is cold and dark without him, without his reminders of how much he cares and wants me to scream for him. Here, time stands still, and life continues in a strange loop. I can’t say whether I’m alive or dead, but I know it no longer matters. Once I entered this world, my life ended and began anew. Hoseok made me feel both alive and dead simultaneously.

And as I write this, my heart aches for him. My fingers tremble at the thought of him returning to claim me again. The pain he inflicts makes my heart pound and my stomach clench. I miss him.

It both sickens and excites me.

October 19, 1997

My bones groaned and cracked like ancient floorboards beneath my weight as I fought to catch my breath. Sweat slicked my skin, and I began patting myself down, half-expecting to find something tangible to anchor me to reality. My surroundings slowly came into focus. The harsh fluorescent lights above stung my eyes, but their sterile brightness offered an odd comfort. I was at home, cocooned in thick blankets that had twisted themselves around my legs. The bed beneath me creaked with the effort of supporting my restless form. I sighed, flopping back down, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare that still clung to me like a shadow.

The dreams had become relentless, evolving from vague echoes of past terrors into something far more insidious. These weren't fueled by mere fear but by an overwhelming, consuming desire that felt dangerously close to swallowing me whole. The weekends were the worst, and after seeing Hoseok, they had turned almost infernal. He was always there in my dreams, his skin smooth and flawless, his deep brown eyes burning into mine with an intensity that left me gasping for air.

Every time I closed my eyes, his image flickered behind my eyelids like a dark, seductive film. The scenes always ended the same way: I would climax, my body convulsing in a fevered rhythm, while I looked up to see his face contorted in ecstasy. His deep, guttural groans would reverberate through me as his grip tightened on my skin. He would finish inside me, and my spent body would collapse beneath him. He would drape himself over me, showering my chest with tender, lingering kisses. The setting varied—my bed, a chilling, unfamiliar void, or a dimly lit lounge—but the conclusion was always the same.

With a sigh, I fumbled for my phone, my fingers brushing the cool surface. An email from Hoseok awaited me, and a smile crept across my face despite the haze of exhaustion. He was the epitome of a perfect gentleman—never pushing beyond my boundaries, never demanding more than I was willing to give, always accommodating his schedule to mine. Even in matters of intimacy, something many men would aggressively pursue, he always respected my pace. In the hectic blur of the past month, we hadn’t had a moment alone. He hadn’t even broached the topic. As I thought about it, I couldn't recall the last time we'd been intimate outside of these dreams.

From: Hoseok Jung Subject: All Hallows Eve Date: October 19, 1997: 03:05 To: Y/N Y/L/N Good morning, love, I'm sorry for the early message, especially since this is one of your rare mornings off. I hope I didn't wake you. I'm heading home from work and couldn't stop thinking about you. Taehyung is throwing a simple Halloween party this year, and luckily, it falls on a Friday. Would you like to join me? I think it could be a lot of fun. I love you. Hobi

I grinned and began typing my reply.

From: Y/N Y/L/N Subject: RE: All Hallows Eve Date: October 19, 1997: 04:15 To: Hoseok Jung Hobi, Don't worry, you didn't wake me. I was tangled up in strange dreams and was deep asleep when your email arrived. Sadly, I doubt I'll fall back asleep anytime soon, so I plan on catching up on Buffy or Beyond Belief—whichever's on. Hopefully, I won't get stuck with reruns of Seinfeld, not really my thing. Lucky for me, I'm working mornings this week. I'd love to come to your party. Call me when you wake up. Love you, too. Y/N Y/L/N, M.D. Palliative Care Physician, New York-Presbyterian Hospital

It barely registered that, to my knowledge, I had never said "I love you" to him before. I had never really pondered the oddity of our relationship. My memories of our time together were a disorienting blur, but I never questioned it. It wasn't entirely my fault—he had ensnared me, body and soul, and any unresolved threads might make it harder for him to maintain control. Regardless of our tangled history or how elusive it seemed; I was simply glad he wanted to see me at that moment.

I lay huddled in my bed, my body a coiled spring of anticipation, each nerve ending tingling with the foreboding that had stalked me all day. His voice had been a persistent whisper, a sultry hum that turned my name into a haunting lullaby. It was a melody wrapped in an insatiable longing, a caress of words that promised more than I dared to imagine.

Tonight, I wanted to resist. I tried to muster the strength to ignore the insidious pull, that relentless tug drawing me toward him like a moth to a flame. The very idea of defying him churned my stomach with a nauseous dread. But the threads of his influence were woven so tightly around me, it felt like trying to escape from silken chains.

Then it came, cutting through the murkiness of my thoughts like a scythe. His voice, now sharper, more insistent, shattered the fragile veneer of my resistance.

“Y/N. Come to me now.”

With a sudden jolt, the pretense of defiance evaporated. I threw off the blankets as if they were chains, leaping out of bed and flying through the darkened hallway. My feet barely touched the ground as I hurtled down the stairs, each step propelled by an unrelenting force, dragging me inexorably toward him.

He waited for me in the foyer, bathed in an eerie glow that made him look like an apparition from a fevered dream—or perhaps a nightmare. His smile was both welcoming and chilling, a promise wrapped in malice. When he took my hand, his lips brushed against my fingers with a cool, electric touch that set my entire body aflame.

The intensity of my reaction embarrassed me, but he tilted my face up to meet his gaze, shaking his head with a look of almost pity.

“Your blood knows what it wants, my lamb. You must let your mind follow.”

My face burned with fierce heat, but the compulsion pulling me to him was too overpowering to resist. He guided me through the meticulously manicured gardens to a secluded alcove framed by dense, sculpted hedges. He seated himself on a bench, drawing me onto his lap with a practiced grace that made me feel both cherished and helpless. His eyes, dark and unfathomable, never left mine, promising secrets I couldn’t begin to comprehend.

“Are you ready, my lamb?”

Without a second thought, I bared my neck to him. The desperate craving for the bliss and torment of his bite had consumed me completely; waiting was no longer an option.

He lingered, his tongue tracing a tantalizing path along the delicate skin of my throat. The sensation was almost unbearable, and I found myself begging with a voice that sounded alien, strained.

“Please.”

And then he bit.

I shot awake, my heart a frantic drum in my chest. I had fallen asleep hunched over my desk at the hospital, my neck stiff from the awkward angle. Rubbing away the ache, I cursed the book that had plagued me with such vivid nightmares. I needed to talk to my brother again; this couldn’t be anything but a cruel trick of the mind.

The glowing digits on my alarm clock mocked me with their late hour. I stood up, stretching and feeling my heartbeat slowly return to normal. I changed into a t-shirt and shuffled toward the bed, determined to banish the lingering unease.

As I passed the window, something froze me in place. I looked down into the parking lot and saw him standing under a flickering lamppost, his gaze locked onto mine with a predatory intensity that made my blood run cold.

It was Hoseok—or at least, it looked like him. But the resemblance was grotesquely twisted. His eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, a sickly luminescence that cut through the night like a malevolent beacon. His skin was peeling away in ragged strips, as if he were shedding himself like a decaying husk. This was no longer my Hoseok. He was a creature of nightmares, a monster forged from my darkest fears.

My fingers clung to the windowsill as I stared, my body paralyzed by the overwhelming urge to run to him, to give in to the magnetic pull of his presence. I watched as his lips moved, shaping a single word that seemed to echo through the chill of the night.

“Soon.”

I gasped, my breath catching in my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the vision to vanish. When I opened them again, the parking lot was empty, the lamppost casting its pallid light over a sea of unmoving cars. I rubbed my eyes in disbelief, snatched my blanket and pillow, and stumbled back to the on-call room, desperate to escape the sinister call that still haunted the dark corners of my mind.

October 28, 1997

"What should I do?" the nurse asked, her name slipping from my mind like a shadow lost in the night.

"Give them some space," I replied, my gaze fixed resolutely away from the room across the hall. Elizabeth had just passed away, her DNR a cold, ironclad barrier that left no room for last-ditch efforts. Her family needed their final moments with her while we waited for the body to be transported. Mary was still wailing into her husband's chest, and Elijah looked like he'd been dragged through a storm, barely able to stand. Percy stood like a marble statue, his eyes glazed over while his wife clung to him. The sight of Percy’s frozen, unseeing expression twisted my gut in a way I couldn’t ignore. It reminded me too much of what I feared—and I needed to escape the suffocating atmosphere of grief.

"Should we get them out of the room?" another nurse asked, her thick southern drawl hinting at Memphis. "Seeing her like that can’t be good for their mental well-being."

I shook my head. "Let them have their last moments in peace. Offer condolences and check on them regularly."

I fiddled nervously with my ID card, the familiar unease gnawing at me. My wounds from the day seemed too fresh. Miles surfaced in my thoughts again, and I resolved to call my brother on my way home tonight. Hoseok wasn’t working tonight, so he wouldn’t join me on the subway.

"I'm going to check in with 211," I murmured, watching Percy leave the room, clutching his phone like a lifeline. "I’ll be back in 5-10 minutes to see if the family needs anything. Just make them as comfortable as you can."

"You got it, doc."

The subway ride home was a silent affair. My headache throbbed like a relentless drum, and my stomach churned uneasily. The day had been heavy with more deaths than usual. Elizabeth’s family had eventually calmed down, but their kindness on their way out hadn’t eased the knot in my chest. I knew their pain intimately.

I called my brother as I made my way to the subway. Despite his complicated feelings about our mother, he was always supportive. The conversation ended abruptly when Aurora entered the room, demanding his attention. Miles had never truly understood my emotions; I doubted he ever tried.

The short walk home from the subway was a blessing, though the cold night air bit at my skin. I was grateful for the proximity of my apartment, but the streets were alive with noise—tourists laughing, gang members shouting outside their apartment complexes. I was relieved to escape the chaos, though my street wasn’t entirely free of foot traffic. My old apartment in East Harlem had been more of a hustle, with late-night carpooling with a coworker whose name eluded me. I knew it started with an 'A,' but the memory only worsened my headache. I set the thought aside for another time.

After selling the family home in Florida and vacation properties scattered across the country, I’d managed to buy a house on Astro Row at 100th and 30th Street. It was an old building—too expensive for its size, and initially, it seemed far from beautiful. But over time, it grew on me. I loved the brownstones, the front porches, the grand trees, and the quiet streets. I couldn’t imagine leaving. Even the renovations I’d planned were postponed. The charm of the old place had won me over, and I’d made peace with its quirks. I even got along with my neighbor, a small but welcome relief.

Tonight was quieter than usual, and none of my neighbors seemed awake. I missed the old man at the end of the street who used to sit on his porch, sipping coffee and waiting for dawn. It was nearly 4:30 AM. I shrugged and continued; my mind focused on the comfort of my bed.

Fumbling for my keys, I cursed quietly when my pockets were empty. My purse, a cavernous mess of clutter, swallowed everything. As I dug through it, a sudden burst of laughter behind me made me freeze. Two women strolled down the sidewalk, their laughter echoing off the walls. They were both stunning, their pale skin glowing under the moonlight. One of them locked eyes with me, her gaze piercing through the darkness. She looked at me as if she’d seen a ghost, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew me.

"Hello," she said, her voice as light and tinkling as a bell.

"Hi," I replied, feeling strangely off-balance.

The other woman seemed perplexed. Her beauty was almost ethereal, with blonde hair as pale as her skin and eyes as dark as night. Her gaze swept over me with an unmistakable disdain, her teeth bared in a slight sneer. Yet, despite her apparent coldness, she was undeniably beautiful.

"How are you?" the first woman asked, her voice soothing.

"Fine," I responded, my throat dry. "And you?"

The nagging headache intensified as I tried to make sense of the encounter, a sense of déjà vu wrapping around me like a tightening noose. The women moved on, their laughter fading into the night, leaving me with a lingering unease that clung to me like the shadows of my dreams.

She studied me, her face a shifting canvas of emotions before settling into a look of genuine confusion. I tried to place her but struggled. There was something crucial I needed to remember, something just out of reach, but my mind remained stubbornly blank. A frantic urge to call Hoseok seized me.

The realization hit me like a cold slap. Why did I think I needed him? I tried to convince myself I could handle this alone. But deep down, I knew I needed him here. He could make this headache vanish, soothe the gnawing anxiety that had taken root in my chest. I missed him. I loved him. I needed him…

“What's your name?” she asked, her smile both disarming and unsettling, making my thoughts scatter like leaves in a storm.

“Y/N,” I replied, feeling dazed and disconnected.

“Cold night, Y/N,” she purred, her gaze never wavering. “You should get inside.”

I nodded absently, my words failing me as I fumbled with my keys. The blonde woman's giggle, filled with an eerie excitement, made me shiver. I wanted to retreat, to escape this strange encounter. I shoved the key into the lock, eager to shut out the unsettling night.

“Y/N,” the first woman’s voice halted me, her tone chillingly smooth. Neither of them had moved since they stopped. The blonde’s smile remained fixed, and I couldn’t bring myself to meet the other woman’s eyes. “Be careful out here. You never know who’s wandering around.”

I nodded, turning the doorknob, but her voice stopped me again.

“I work at a bar in Midtown,” she said, her words snagging my attention like a hook. I had always known she worked at a bar, but why was it important? “It’s called Dauphine. Ever heard of it?”

Yes, I wanted to say. That place haunted my nightmares, a dark shadow that clung to the edges of my memory. But I couldn’t piece together why. Hoseok would know. He’d make everything better. No, my mind screamed—he’d only make it worse. I couldn’t say how I knew this, but I wanted to listen to the little voice inside me tonight. Something was very wrong.

“You should come by sometime,” she offered. “We’re on 1st and East 54th in the far corner of the Diamond District. If you need anything, just ask for ‘Bootsy.’”

Bootsy…

“Are you okay with cherry liquor?” she asked.

I let go of the doorknob and turned to face them fully. I couldn’t meet either of their eyes. The sensation was all too familiar. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the answer I didn’t want to hear.

“Do you know Hoseok? He’s my boyfriend.”

The blonde hissed sharply. Bootsy gasped, her face a mask of surprise and something darker, more shadowy. It was clear that Hoseok was connected to these people, tangled up with my memories of New York, the root of all my confusion. I missed him. I loved him. I needed him…

No, I shook my head. Was that what he wanted me to believe? I wasn’t sure anymore.

“Yes,” Bootsy finally replied. “I’ve known him for many, many years.”

Before I could second-guess myself, I slammed the door shut and locked it. The blonde finally moved, stepping away from Bootsy and muttering something I couldn’t catch. She disappeared down the street, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.

“What’s wrong with me?” I muttered through the door, my voice tinged with desperation.

Bootsy’s response came through with a sorrowful edge. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, my headache pounding with such intensity that I could barely keep my eyes open. “It’s him, isn’t it?” I asked, my voice breaking. “I don’t understand what’s happening. It’s like I remember things but not really, and everything goes blank every time he’s around.”

Bootsy’s eyes, a deep crimson, darted around nervously. They seemed to glow faintly, like a cat’s eyes in the dark. Her dark hair framed her face perfectly, glossy and sleek. Bootsy wasn’t human. What she was, I couldn’t say. But she was somehow tied to the nightmares that plagued me, and Hoseok’s shadow loomed larger than ever.

“He’s a demon,” she whispered hurriedly, her words laced with a fear that seemed almost tangible. “I can’t tell you exactly what he’s done. I’ve never known him to keep someone around for this long, but whatever you’ve done to make him want you seems to have spared your life. You should have died back in ’92 with your friend.”

A friend? Someone else had been involved? Hoseok was a demon? The fragments Bootsy offered were like pieces of a shattered mirror, reflecting a reality I could barely grasp. I believed her, though. I had no reason not to. My memories felt like they were being twisted, distorted by Hoseok’s manipulations.

Then I thought of the creature outside of the hospital and felt my knees go numb. I hadn't hallucinated anything. It was real. It was him. Oh my God.

“We can’t talk for long,” she said, a look of pained urgency on her face. “He won’t sleep for much longer.”

“What can I do?” I begged, clutching my head as if I could squeeze out the pain. It was unbearable. “God, it hurts.”

“Nothing,” Bootsy’s voice trembled. “Hoseok wants you, and he’s never lost a game. It doesn’t matter where you go or what you do; he will win. Whatever you’ve been doing has kept you alive this long, but I don’t know how much time you have left.”

Her words hit me like a tidal wave, crashing over me and dragging me under. I had been a pawn in Hoseok’s twisted game, my life manipulated by his cruel whims. What did he want from me? My body? My soul? The realization was suffocating.

“Go to Dauphine and find Taehyung,” Bootsy instructed, her voice carrying a chilling finality despite its almost maternal tone. “He had a soft spot for you back then. If you’re lucky, he might be able to change you, make you like us. That might be enough to satisfy Hoseok.”

Taehyung. The name cut through the fog in my mind like a beacon, easing the throbbing in my head, if only for a moment. He had haunted my dreams, his image vivid: a white button-up shirt, his gentle hands, his voice firm yet tender, saying he didn’t want to share me. He had left me in that bar, but the details were fuzzy—how or why I had ended up there was a blur. All I knew was that I was lost, and he had once been my guide.

She paused, her eyes darkening with a weighty empathy. “You’d be luckier if Taehyung agrees to end your life before the demon does. I wouldn’t wish this half-life on anyone, nor would I be glad to see you die, but those are your choices. I can’t guarantee you’ll make it through this.”

“What happened in ’92?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper, thick with desperation.

Bootsy shook her head, her expression darkening with sorrow. “He killed your friend and tried to lure you away. That's all I know, and I don't have time to explain the rest. The sun’s about to rise, and your demon will be waiting for you to fall asleep. Don’t fight it. Let it happen. If he knows you’re aware of him, he might decide to kill you.”

It felt wrong to just let it happen. What would this mean for me in the end? Would knowing about his influence change anything? I couldn’t be sure, but if I wanted to buy myself time, I had no choice but to take the risk. I needed answers, a plan, anything to regain control.

“Y/N,” Bootsy’s urgent voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. “Your memories won't come back unless he wants them to. Let it go. Either way you'll be dead.”

With those final, haunting words, Bootsy vanished as quickly as she had appeared. The weight of my predicament pressed heavily on my shoulders, my impending doom looming like a dark cloud. I stumbled back to the porch, unlocked the front door, and sought refuge in the sanctuary of my bed. Bootsy’s grim mantra echoed in my mind as I tried to push aside my troubling thoughts about Hoseok, grappling with the uncertainty that lay ahead.

He appeared to me then, in a vision that was both intoxicating and horrifying. His eyes sparkled with a predatory thrill, his touch setting my skin ablaze, igniting waves of pleasure that crashed over me with ruthless intensity. His worship was ceaseless, his lips warm and insistent, as if trying to devour every shred of my resistance. I was swallowed by him, lost in a whirlwind of passion that twisted the love I once felt (at least, I believed I felt) into something darker, more insidious. I missed him. I loved him. I needed him…

Bootsy’s words had struck me like a death knell, sealing my fate in an irreversible descent. She had unwittingly set my downfall into motion, transforming innocent affection into a ravenous lust that consumed every corner of my mind. When I awoke late in the evening, the decision to call off work for the rest of the week came with a grim resignation. The struggle to stay awake was in vain; it was becoming starkly clear how deeply Hoseok’s control had embedded itself within me. The inevitable was no longer a distant threat—it had already begun to unfold, dragging me into its dark embrace.

October 31, 1997

I tugged nervously at my skirt, my fingers trembling despite the cool night air that should have been a relief. The address that had arrived this morning was burned into my mind, glaring at me from the top of the paper—Dauphine, the bar Bootsy had mentioned. My plans were clear: find Bootsy, get directions, speak with this Taehyung, and figure out my options. But the gnawing truth was unavoidable—no matter what I did, it felt like my life was already slipping through my fingers.

Sleep deprivation had become my relentless tormentor. My eyelids felt heavy, weighted down by leaden exhaustion, and my attempts to feign illness to dodge work had morphed into a grim reality. It was a battle to stay awake each day, and I feared that simply making it to this bar would be a Herculean task.

I stared at myself in the mirror, trying to adjust the wig perched precariously on my head. I’d opted for a lazy Halloween costume—a half-hearted Cher from *Clueless*. The yellow plaid blazer was a thrift store find, the skirt a serendipitous discovery. But the wig made me look more like a grotesque caricature than a character. Frustrated, I yanked it off and tossed it onto the floor. I’d have to go without it.

Yawning, I fought the overwhelming urge to collapse back into bed. My cab was on its way, and I had to be ready. I gathered my essentials—purse, house keys, phone, and a spare outfit—preparing for a night that could very well be my last. I steeled myself for the confrontation, even if it felt like a hopeless, losing battle.

My daily struggle with myself had turned into a monotonous grind. My feigned illness had kept Hoseok at a distance, but it had only given me more time to spiral into despair over his influence. My mind was a battleground, where fragments of my past life clashed with the twisted desires he’d implanted in me. Every morning, I awoke to a gnawing need, a desperate craving for him that left me feeling sullied and repulsed.

I stepped outside and drew a shaky breath of the crisp night air. Calling my brother was both a comfort and a torment. There was a chance this could be the last time I spoke to him, and the thought tightened my chest like a vise. I fought back tears as I dialed his number.

“Hello?” Miles answered, his voice warm and familiar.

“Hey,” I forced a cheerful tone, though it felt hollow. “Still out Trick-or-Treating?”

“We just got back,” he said. “Rory wants to talk to you.”

My heart ached at the sound of my niece’s voice. “Hi, Auntie,” she said, her voice sweet as ever. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby,” I sniffled, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah!” Aurora’s excitement was a bright spot in my darkness. “I was Katerina, mommy was Miss Elaina, and daddy was Daniel Tiger.”

“That sounds amazing,” I wiped away my tears. “What about your baby brother?”

Aurora’s voice took on a scolding tone. “His name is Corbin, Auntie,” she said as though I should have known better. “He’s still in mommy’s belly, so he wasn’t anything. Mommy’s giving him candy.”

I laughed, though it was tinged with sadness. “How’s your mommy?”

“She says ‘Hi,’” Aurora replied. “We got the best candy! A lady was giving out big Starbursts. Daddy’s letting me have all the pink ones because I’m special.”

“You are special, sweet girl.”

A painful thought intruded—would Hoseok make them forget me if I asked him? The idea was almost too agonizing to bear. He’d kept me alive for five years, a perverse form of flattery that I struggled to appreciate. My self-loathing deepened as I thought about the life I was about to leave behind.

“Daddy says I have to go,” Aurora pouted. “Bye, Auntie.”

“Bye, Rory girl,” I choked out, my voice cracking as the tears welled up. “I love you.”

“Love you more,” Aurora’s sweet voice drifted through the line, a beacon of innocence in my storm of dread.

I gasped, the floodgates opening as I fought to keep my composure. “Impossible,” I managed to whisper, my throat tight with sorrow.

“Why?” she giggled, her innocent curiosity slicing through my resolve.

“Because,” I said, my voice barely a whisper, “I love you more than the world.”

Aurora’s laughter began to fade as she handed the phone back to Miles. The sound of her giggles and her mother’s laughter echoed in the background, a cruel reminder of the life I was about to lose. My heart clenched painfully at the thought of never hearing those sounds again.

“What’s up, sissy?” Miles asked, his tone tinged with concern.

“I was just heading out,” I said, forcing a tremulous cheerfulness into my voice. “Thought I’d call before my cab gets here. I’m leaving a little early.”

There was a heavy pause on the other end, a silence that spoke louder than words.

“Everything okay, Y/N? You sound upset.”

“No, no,” I hurried to reassure him, biting my lip to keep from sobbing. “Just tired. You know how it is.”

“You sure?” Miles pressed, his concern palpable. He was always too perceptive for his own good, but he never pushed too hard. I hoped he wouldn’t miss me too much.

“I’m positive, Bubba,” I said, my eyes darting to the cab pulling up to the curb. “My ride’s here. I love you.”

“Love you too, sis. Call me later?”

“I’ll try to remember in the morning,” I said, attempting to sound upbeat despite the crushing weight in my chest. “I know it’s late for you guys.”

I closed my phone with shaking hands and stuffed it into my purse, the weight of my decisions pressing down on me. The cab driver approached, his face a blur through my tears.

“Where to?” he asked, his voice a lifeline in the growing storm of my fear.

“1st and East 54th in the Diamond District,” I replied, offering a weak, strained smile.

“Dauphine?” The driver’s eyes flicked to me in the rearview mirror, a hint of something unsettling in his gaze. “Ever been there before?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, trying to steady my breath. “I don’t remember it all that well. Guess I had too much fun last time.”

“Watch yourself,” the driver said, turning on the radio with a slow, deliberate movement. “That place is crawling with freaks.”

“Welcome to New York,” I muttered, more to myself than him.

He chuckled, his voice a touch too jovial. “Been here my whole life. My name’s Jimin. Call me if you need a getaway driver.”

The car rumbled with the low hum of R&B, Jimin fiddling with the radio as if trying to mask the creeping anxiety that gnawed at my insides. I mouthed the lyrics, trying to drown out the terror that threatened to consume me.

My thoughts were a twisted mess of fear and longing. The image of Hoseok, tainted by his manipulation, flickered through my mind. The desire to escape him was overpowered by the suffocating grip of my own confusion. Taehyung was my last, desperate hope—a fleeting chance at redemption. But deep down, a gnawing realization settled in I was already damned, teetering on the edge with no way back.

The mantra echoed relentlessly in my head: I miss him, love him, and need him…

I was spiraling, caught in a web of my own making, and the thought of facing what awaited me at Dauphine was almost too much to bear.

“We’re here,” Jimin's voice cut through the thick fog of dread that enveloped me.

“Thanks for the ride,” I muttered, my fingers trembling as I fumbled with the cash. I handed him a generous tip, a feeble attempt to cling to some semblance of normalcy.

The alleyway stretched before me, a grim path between the upscale buildings of the Diamond District. It looked less menacing than I’d imagined, but its familiarity offered no comfort. Dim street lamps cast weak pools of light that barely touched the encroaching darkness. I hoped—prayed—that Hoseok wasn’t already here. The fading daylight gave me just enough visibility to navigate, and the murmur of voices outside the bar was a small, shaky comfort. I clung to the hope that these voices belonged to ordinary people, potential witnesses if I needed to make a quick escape.

As I approached, the group of people outside fell silent. My stomach churned violently, and bile rose in my throat, threatening to spill. I couldn’t bring myself to turn and face them; their gaze was almost a physical presence, making my skin crawl even though I never looked directly at them. A low, sinister snicker from one of them sent a shiver down my spine, amplifying my fear. I hadn’t even seen their faces, yet their mere presence was enough to make me quake.

The bouncer at the gate eyed me with a scrutinizing glare.

“Password,” he demanded, his voice flat and unyielding.

“I-” I stammered, my mind racing to recall the password Hoseok had given me. “Audubon.”

The gate creaked open, and I slipped past the security guard, my heart pounding like a drum. Despite my nervous bravado, the bouncer’s indifference did little to soothe me. Once inside, I felt a fleeting sense of relief, escaping the unsettling stares.

I gripped my bag tightly, knuckles white, and started searching for the bar. The interior was starkly underwhelming—plush couches and private booths scattered haphazardly, with red neon signs pointing to the restrooms. The oppressive red and black color scheme was heavy, but thankfully devoid of any overtly horrific scenes. I had no desire for strobe lights or dance floors; the thought of walking into a trap was more than enough to keep me on edge.

Navigating through the dimly lit space, I felt like I was moving through a maze. The long hallway ahead seemed to stretch into an abyss, the darkness intensifying with each step. The oppressive gloom and the eerie silence made my nerves jangle. The jazz music that had been softly playing in the background had faded, leaving me in a disquieting void.

At the end of the hall, the emptiness was almost a relief. The silence was oppressive but meant I wasn’t walking into a room full of hostile eyes. Perhaps this was how I’d met Bootsy—wandering aimlessly until she had found me and guided me out.

The bar seemed to stretch on forever, an architectural labyrinth that added to my growing sense of dread. I held my breath as the walls seemed to close in, my anxiety a tangible weight pressing against my chest. The high ceilings and claustrophobic spaces combined to create a sensation of being trapped. My heels clicked sharply against the linoleum, the sound echoing eerily in the silence. The place felt more like a mausoleum than a bar. Every step heightened my unease, and the hairs on my neck stood on end as I glanced around, trying to ignore the creeping terror that threatened to overwhelm me.

“Hello?” I called out, my voice trembling as it cut through the oppressive silence. “Is anybody here?”

The sudden sound of a voice behind me made me jump, my heart racing as I spun around with a gasp that morphed into a shriek. My balance faltered, and I slammed into the wall, scraping my arm against the rough surface. The sharp sting of pain was immediate and searing. I clutched my injured arm, the pain and the shock making my vision blur. I turned to face the figure who had startled me.

He stood there, his white button-down shirt contrasting sharply with the dim surroundings. His tall, lean frame was framed by broad shoulders, and his long fingers seemed to move with an effortless grace. But it was his smile that made my blood run cold—a wide, boxy grin that stretched unnaturally across his face, his eyes glinting with a mischievous, unsettling light.

“My apologies,” he said, his voice dripping with a smooth, honeyed tone. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

I glared at him, struggling to steady my breathing and regain my composure. “It’s fine. It didn’t kill me, did it?”

He chuckled softly; a sound that felt more sinister than soothing. “You’re bleeding,” he said, his gaze dropping to my arm.

I looked down and saw blood seeping through a tear in my blazer. The sight of my own blood was like a cruel reminder of my vulnerability. The pain, combined with the sight of my blood, pushed me to the edge. My hands shook as I raised them to my face, tears welling up uncontrollably. The enormity of my situation crashed down on me like a tidal wave. Everything felt chaotic; my life had been turned upside down, and the relentless pounding in my head was unbearable. I should have stayed home. At least Hoseok’s presence, while twisted, had been a semblance of comfort.

The despair was suffocating.

“Are you okay, sha?” His voice was soft, but his touch on my arm was disconcertingly gentle.

I laughed, a hollow, despairing sound. “Does it look like it?”

“No, you look upset,” he replied, his eyes glinting with an unsettling mixture of sympathy and amusement.

“You don’t say?” I snapped, rolling my eyes and jerking my arm away from his touch.

Despite my evident distress, he remained unnervingly calm, his smile lingering like a dark shadow. His pleasure at my discomfort was unsettling, and the aura around him felt eerily similar to the disquieting presence of those outside. His attractiveness was overshadowed by a deeply disturbing quality that made me want to flee. It was as if fear had paralyzed me, pinning me in place.

Suddenly, a chilling realization hit me. As I forced myself to examine his face more closely, I recognized him from the shadows of my past. He was strikingly beautiful in a haunting way, like Bootsy. His pale skin was almost luminescent, and his eyes, once hidden in the darkness, now revealed flecks of red that seemed to glow with a menacing, otherworldly light. They were mesmerizing yet horrifying, a dangerous allure that made my skin crawl. The spell he cast was broken as quickly as it had begun, and I struggled to look him in the eye again.

“You’re looking for me, aren’t you?” His voice was a silky whisper that seemed to wrap around me, tightening with a sinister intent.

Embarrassed by my earlier outburst, I nodded slowly. My hope of finding help felt increasingly elusive as the night grew darker and more menacing. All I wanted was to escape, but the hope that things might improve clung stubbornly to me. Taehyung exuded a disorienting blend of warmth and menace, a mix of comfort and dread that left me feeling more lost than ever.

“I’m sorry for being snappy,” I said, my voice quivering as I wiped away a tear. “I don’t remember you all that well.”

Or at all, my mind whispered in the encroaching darkness. The more I looked at him, the more I felt Hoseok’s oppressive influence tugging at my thoughts. Images of Hoseok’s touch, his voice, his eyes—each one flared in my mind with an insidious intensity. He misses you; he loves you, he needs you…

“Requiem was wrong,” Taehyung murmured, his fingers chillingly cold as they cradled my face. “You’re too far gone.”

“Who?” I managed to ask, my voice trembling and my head spinning. His touch was both numbing and intoxicating.

“Bootsy,” he cooed, his breath a mix of cotton and sweet pine needles. “She said you had a chance, but she was mistaken. My friend has already completed the bond.”

“W-what?” I whispered, dazed and confused. The throbbing ache in my head resonated with Taehyung’s presence. “What bond?”

“Maybe not,” he whispered, his proximity making my pulse race.

When his lips met mine, they were like ice, yet the jolt of electricity that surged through me made my knees buckle. His laughter was dark and twisted as he wrapped an arm around my waist, his tongue brushing against my lips. I mewled, clutching his shoulders as the electric sensation overwhelmed me. His groan sent shivers through my entire body, and the echo of Hoseok’s voice in my head was relentless. He misses you, he loves you, he needs you…

Suddenly, I shoved Taehyung away, gasping for air as a searing pain exploded in my head. It felt as if a sledgehammer had struck my temple. My vision swam, and I collapsed to my knees, tears streaming down my face as I sobbed uncontrollably.

“Poor child,” Taehyung crooned, kneeling beside me. His scent, soothing yet oddly comforting, did little to ease the tremors wracking my body. “I’m so sorry, but I cannot help you.”

“I’m going to die,” I sobbed, my voice cracking under the weight of my despair.

“Yes,” he said calmly. “The pain will lessen once you accept it; accept him.”

“What does he want?” I managed to choke out.

“Can’t you see?” Taehyung’s eyes glittered ominously in the dim light. “He believes he’s in love with you. It’s a pity, really. I want nothing more than to keep you, but I can’t risk angering him. He would destroy Requiem for revealing his secrets; she is my most cherished friend. Do you understand?”

Numbly, I nodded. I’m going to die. I miss him. I’m going to die. He loves you. I’m going to die. I need him. I’m going to die. I love him. He needs you. I’m—

“Your eyes look just like his,” Taehyung marveled, his gaze softening. “He’s bound to you in a way I’ve never seen before.”

As I stared at Taehyung, my vision began to blur, and the voices in my head whispered louder in the dark corners of my mind. Their weight pressed down on me, my eyes rolling back until all I could see was a void. When I came to, I was horrified to find vomit splattered across Taehyung’s pristine white shirt. His expression twisted in horror and pain as he watched me unravel.

A dark, malevolent presence loomed near, its acrid stench of soot and kerosene overwhelming my senses. My head throbbed as if it had been cleaved in two, and a grotesque, pecking sensation gnawed at my exposed, vulnerable insides. Taehyung’s icy touch against my rigid form offered little comfort as I lay helpless against his chest, terror seeping in with every passing second.

“There’s my girl!” Hoseok’s voice cut through the haze of despair, and just like that, the pain evaporated.

I exhaled, sinking into Taehyung’s embrace. His body felt like ice against my fevered skin, a chilling contrast that brought an unexpected relief. His cool fingers traced my scalp, their touch a soothing balm amidst the chaos.

“I hope you understand Bootsy’s decision,” Taehyung’s voice was as cold as his touch, carrying a weight of finality. “She thought you were still playing games. But she was wrong.”

A deep, resonant rumble filled the space, and Hoseok’s voice emerged from the darkness like a spectral echo.

“Requiem has every right to her judgment,” Hoseok said, his voice a smooth caress laced with menace. “If it were anyone else, I might not care. But Y/N’s suffering is a consequence of her meddling. I had hoped to keep her alive.”

“Why?” I croaked, the question barely escaping my lips.

“You’re my special girl,” Hoseok purred, his voice dripping with a twisted, cruel fondness. “So innocent, so malleable. You’re perfect.”

A strange calm enveloped me as I lay against Taehyung, the tumult of emotions and pain fading to a low murmur. Hoseok’s presence hung over me like a dark, oppressive cloud, his words a cruel mockery of the comfort I desperately sought.

Taehyung’s fingers moved through my hair with a cold, almost clinical precision. “You’ve been chosen,” he said softly, his voice carrying an unsettling calm. “It’s a rare bond that neither Bootsy nor I can undo. I wish there was something more I could do for you.”

My vision blurred, shadows of past anguish swirling around me. Hoseok’s voice echoed in my mind, a haunting lullaby that twisted my insides. “You’re mine, Y/N. No matter how you struggle, you are woven into my essence.”

The room seemed to constrict, the walls inching inward, shadows elongating and darkening. A biting chill settled over the space, the whispers of the damned intertwining with my deepest fears. I could almost see their forms, spectral and menacing, reaching out from the darkness.

I struggled to my feet, the world spinning dizzily around me. My head throbbed with a relentless ache, my heart pounding like a trapped bird. I stumbled away from Taehyung’s unnervingly composed presence, my eyes darting frantically for any sign of escape or salvation.

“Y/N,” Hoseok’s voice was a dissonant blend of soothing and threatening. “Don’t run from me. You belong here, with me.”

My breath came in ragged gasps, the overwhelming urge to flee battling with a stubborn thread of hope tangled in my despair. My thoughts were a chaotic mess, clinging to the faintest possibility of survival amidst the encroaching darkness.

I turned to Taehyung, my gaze pleading, desperate. “Is there no way out? Is there any hope left?”

Taehyung’s expression softened with a mixture of pity and sorrow. “Try to enjoy your final moments.”

Footsteps echoed ominously down the corridor, each step deliberate and foreboding. My heart leaped as a figure emerged from the gloom. Bootsy. Her presence was both a flicker of reassurance and a shadow of dread.

“I’m sorry,” Bootsy’s voice was a murmur of regret in the darkness.

I looked at her, then back at Taehyung, and finally at the encroaching shadows that seemed to reach out with a ravenous hunger. The weight of the choice, of my impending doom, pressed heavily on my chest, threatening to crush me under its gravity.

With a shuddering breath, I steeled myself. “I can’t let this happen to me,” I said, my voice trembling but resolute. “I don’t want this.”

The room seemed to hold its breath, the darkness thickening. Hoseok’s laughter echoed through the void, a low, mocking sound that sent icy shivers down my spine. “Of course you do. You wouldn’t be writhing on the floor if you didn’t.”

The shadows deepened, the walls closing in as if reality itself was warping to ensnare me. A cold grip tightened around my soul, a force dragging me back into the abyss I had fought so hard to escape. An aching chill settled below my diaphragm, squeezing the breath from my lungs. My head spun again, his voice a soft whisper in the recesses of my mind. I miss you. I love you. I need you…

Don’t leave me.

Taehyung’s expression hardened into one of grim resignation. “You’re already bound to him. The bond is too strong.”

As I fought against the invisible chains tightening around me, the futility of my struggle became all too apparent. The darkness swallowed me whole, dragging me back into the depths I had desperately tried to escape.

“Please,” I whispered into the void, but the darkness consumed my plea. “Please, no.”

Hoseok’s voice filled the void, smooth and victorious. “Welcome home, darling.”

The last glimmers of light vanished, leaving me in an eternal night, a prisoner of my own choices and the dark forces that had ensnared me. My mind fractured under the weight of the consuming darkness, and as the final remnants of my resistance crumbled, I faced the harrowing truth.

There was no salvation. No escape. Only the endless, consuming dark.

And in that darkness, I was utterly, irrevocably alone.

I don’t know how long I’ve been trapped in this suffocating darkness—hours, days, months, or maybe even years. Time has become an abstract concept here, slipping through my grasp like the thin veil of reality that separates me from the void. The only link to the world beyond this prison is Hoseok, a ghostly presence who appears with a gleam in his eyes that chills me to the bone. His voice, carrying the weight of a thousand tortured souls, always asks the same haunting question: How are you feeling?

We were never friends. Each passing day has sharpened my memories into a cruel clarity. I don’t know where my physical body is—doubtful it’s anywhere near this place. The ink and paper I use to write materialize out of nowhere whenever I need them, appearing and disappearing like phantoms in my disturbed mind. This place defies all logic and reason.

Initially, I fought Hoseok with every ounce of my being. Each refusal brought excruciating pain that felt like it would tear me apart. My screams echoed back at me from the oppressive void, unanswered and ignored. Hoseok would slip into the darkness with a silent, predatory grace, his hot hands roaming over my shivering body before I even knew he was there. I would scramble away, howling and begging him to take me home, but he always left without a word.

Eventually, I gave up the fight. I accepted that escape was impossible, even though my soul still ached for my old life. The pain eased only when I surrendered, and Hoseok’s visits grew more frequent. They were filled with idle chatter about his plans for me. I learned he was a demon, and I was destined to become one too. The possession would erase most of who I once was, but when I awoke, we would be forever linked as master and shade. My freedom would only come after I took my first human life, but that day seemed impossibly distant. Hoseok savored every bite of my soul with a mournful delight.

What I felt for Hoseok wasn’t love—it was an obsession, a malignant force that had seeped into every corner of my being. “A natural reaction of a shade to its master,” he said. I was bound to him, and escape was nothing but a cruel illusion.

The first signs of my unraveling appeared when Hoseok vanished for days on end. In the infinite darkness, where time had no meaning, his absence was a torment of its own. Despite his power to bend reality, he chose to leave me here, dependent on his presence for any sign of change. I began talking to myself, my voice the only sound in the oppressive silence. I spoke for hours, my throat raw and hoarse from the effort, desperately trying to fend off the encroaching madness.

I felt like an addict in withdrawal. I don’t recall when hallucinations began, but soon I was conversing with a phantom chorus of voices. Deep down, I knew it was Hoseok orchestrating these illusions, but my fractured mind twisted reality into something I could barely comprehend. My hatred for him only served to cloud my already distorted perception.

As time dragged on, I grew weary. My speech turned into riddles, convinced I was a prophet receiving divine revelations. Raised Catholic, I had long drifted from faith, but the darkness reignited an obsession with God. I clung desperately to fragmented Bible verses. Hoseok, ever the manipulator, provided me with a Bible. If I weren’t so far gone, I might have questioned his uncanny ability to fulfill my twisted needs.

When I told Hoseok about my religious background, he laughed, and the darkness morphed into a cathedral. For the first time, there was something tangible to focus on during his absences. It was both a prison and a gift. The pews were filled with spectral congregants, and every day became Sunday. I feverishly wrote sermons, warning of the apocalypse. Hoseok attended with a devotion bordering on reverence, but he always left too soon.

The withdrawal pangs paralyzed me, but incessant talking kept the crushing loneliness at bay. I remember the first encounter after becoming accustomed to this madness. My body trembled with need, yet my mind remained alert. Each denial of release brought physical agony, and Hoseok’s visits grew more frequent and prolonged. My breakdown was inevitable.

On the day of my final descent, I felt his presence before I saw him. My struggle had reached its nadir. Despite my lingering hope for escape, Hoseok’s presence shattered my resolve. I became an all-too-willing participant in his dark designs. Even now, as I lie prostrate in my despair, I can’t escape the haunting reality of my existence.

The words of the prayer rolled off my tongue like a ghostly murmur in the dim, solemn church. Each syllable was a desperate plea, a sacrament of my crumbling faith:

“Soul of Christ, sanctify me.”

“Body of Christ, save me.”

“Blood of Christ, inebriate me.”

This prayer was a twisted sacrament, a litany of sacred pleas that felt increasingly like cries into the void.

“Water from Christ’s side, wash me.”

“Passion of Christ, strengthen me.”

“O good Jesus, hear me.”

I bowed my head, eyes squeezed shut like a child hiding from monsters under the bed. My hands gripped tightly in a futile attempt to hold onto my sanity. I prayed not just for absolution but for a distraction, for him to stay away, for the sinful thoughts to dissipate like smoke in the sun.

“Y/N,” a voice whispered, spectral and insistent, urging me to rise, to accept, to finally bend to its will.

Reluctantly, I dragged myself to the pulpit, my legs trembling. I focused on the Gospel before me, the rhythm of my breath, the rehearsed words of today’s homily. I could hear murmurs of anticipation swelling in the pews, bouncing off the stone walls like echoes of forgotten promises.

Did they know? Did they sense the darkness creeping into my soul?

To be honest, I was unsure if anyone was really there or if my mind was playing tricks on me. This place had a maddening ability to distort my perception. I steadied myself, nodding to the organ player, offering a fleeting smile to the choir’s children—figments of my fractured mind. Their eyes, hungry for guidance, believed in my wisdom, though I felt utterly unworthy. Their gaze was a reflection of my own inner torment.

My eyes locked on a figure in the front row, right side, five seats in. My breath hitched, caught in my throat, as I beheld him. Jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket—an irreverent defiance slicing through the sanctity of the church. His gaze was a burning, unholy fire that cut through the darkness with unnerving clarity.

In that moment, the last vestiges of my sanity crumbled, leaving me exposed to the consuming darkness that had become my prison.

I steadied myself, nodding to the organ player, and offered a fleeting smile to the choir’s children, who I no longer believed were real. My gaze wandered over the congregation, each face a testament to a faith I felt unworthy of. Their eyes, brimming with expectation, seemed to pierce through me, demanding guidance I could no longer provide. I questioned my own sanity, wondering if anyone in that room could see how profoundly empty I felt.

I once had everything figured out. Before this… before him.

My eyes locked on a single figure in the front row, right side, five seats in. My breath hitched, caught in my throat. There he was: jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket—a casual defiance that sliced through the church’s sanctity like a blade. His legs were crossed, hands poised by his sides, eyes ablaze with a fire that seemed to burn straight through my composure.

No holy book in his hands, no righteous smile on his lips—just an unspoken, rebellious challenge. His presence was a magnetism that pulled me toward a pit of temptation and sin. I forgot my sermon. I forgot the vows and promises etched into my soul. The solemn pledges made to men of faith and to God. Promises I had written daily to stave off the creeping insanity.

Those promises now felt like distant echoes, overshadowed by him. His eyes, his lips, his rebellious aura—an inferno of forbidden heat that ignited a longing I could no longer contain. I closed my eyes, desperately trying to escape the searing image of him. Abs, legs, an all-consuming heat that seemed to draw me into its vortex.

When I opened my eyes again, the fire remained. A cough from the crowd jolted me back to the present. I tugged at my collar, the symbol of my childhood and a cruel gift from Hoseok. It used to offer comfort, a sign of belonging, but now it felt like a noose tightening around my neck.

The faces of the congregation were a sea of silent, unspoken questions. Their eyes bored into me, filled with unvoiced suspicions and judgments.

Shit.

My fingers trembled as I gripped the edges of the pulpit, trying to anchor myself amidst the spiraling chaos. The eyes of the congregation felt like spectral judgments, each one a reminder of my spiraling failure. Hoseok’s presence, fixed in my peripheral vision, was a constant, unsettling pull—a dark promise of chaos just beyond the edge of reason. It pressed heavily on my chest, a suffocating weight threatening to collapse my fragile sanity.

I forced my gaze back to the Gospel, attempting to focus on the familiar lines of scripture, hoping they would restore my fractured resolve. But the words on the page blurred and twisted, tangled in the storm raging inside my head. Each verse felt like wading through molasses, and a bead of sweat trickled down my temple, mingling with the cold sweat already gathering at the base of my neck. I cleared my throat, trying to regain control, but the sound emerged as a strangled rasp.

The whispers grew louder, like rustling wings pressing against the walls of my sanity. My heart pounded like a funeral drum, each beat a reminder of my mounting desperation. I could almost hear the devil’s laughter, mocking my feeble attempts to maintain a façade of righteousness.

Hoseok’s gaze was unwavering, a predator’s gaze that seemed to sear through my composure. His movements were fluid, deliberate—like a hunter preparing to strike. My mind raced, desperately searching for an escape from this hellish vortex. I glanced at the crucifix behind me, its hollow eyes and outstretched arms now a pitifully inadequate shield against the encroaching darkness. The sacred symbol that once offered solace now seemed like a cruel joke, highlighting how far I had strayed from purity.

The murmurs of the congregation grew insistent, a chorus of impatient whispers that echoed like an unholy chant. The church, once a sanctuary, now closed in around me, its weight suffocating. I took a deep breath, summoning the last remnants of my willpower. I forced myself to meet Hoseok’s gaze again, confronting the fiery rebellion in his eyes. He offered no sympathy, only a silent taunt that echoed my own guilt.

With a trembling hand, I reached for the microphone. My voice cracked as I began to speak, the words spilling out in a disjointed stream. I struggled to reclaim my authority, but with each passing moment, my grip on sanity slipped further. The congregation’s expressions shifted from curiosity to concern, then to alarm. Their faith faltered under the weight of my unraveling composure.

Hoseok’s gaze remained fixed, a dark star in a sea of light, drawing me inexorably towards his gravitational pull. My voice faltered, becoming increasingly erratic, reflecting the chaos within. The church fell into a tense silence, broken only by the rustling of the congregation’s uneasy shifting. I felt every eye on me, their silent judgment a palpable force.

My final words came out as a barely coherent murmur, a defeated whisper lost in the oppressive silence. I stumbled away from the pulpit, my mind a tempest of confusion and dread. As I retreated from the glaring scrutiny of the congregation, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was stumbling towards some dark, inevitable reckoning. Hoseok’s gaze followed me, a constant, unsettling presence as I fled the sanctuary.

I collapsed into the shadows behind the altar, my breath coming in ragged gasps that echoed through the oppressive silence of the church. The darkness around me felt like a living entity, wrapping itself around my chest and squeezing, threatening to suffocate me. Hoseok's eyes lingered in my mind, their haunting intensity a constant reminder of the sin and torment that had become my existence. The certainty of my spiraling downfall felt inescapable, and every breath I took seemed to deepen my dread.

The pews had emptied in an instant, leaving the room cloaked in a suffocating silence. My heart pounded as I watched Hoseok move toward me. The man before me was no longer the mortal guise he had once worn; his true form emerged, dark and unnervingly compelling. His eyes, once warm and inviting, now burned with a shadowed hunger that quickened my pulse with a mix of terror and something I couldn’t quite name.

“Y/N.” His voice, soft and reverent, seemed to carry a sacramental weight that sent an icy shiver down my spine. There was a truth hidden in those syllables, a meaning only he understood. As his nearness intensified, confusion and fear danced across my features. His calm, deliberate hand cradled my cheek, the touch both tender and overwhelming. The heat of my skin seemed to beckon to him, an invitation that terrified and enthralled me simultaneously.

"You're so lovely," he whispered, his voice a gentle murmur that barely masked the wild intensity in his eyes. His touch guided me backward with a grace that felt almost otherworldly. The church seemed to dissolve around us, melting away into a space that was unsettlingly familiar—a fragment of my life from New York. The red brick of the two-story house brought a strange, bittersweet comfort, like a fragment of a life I had once known. It calmed my racing heart with its eerie familiarity. He led me to the front door, his touch both comforting and possessive.

The lock yielded effortlessly, and as we crossed the threshold, the gravity of the situation settled like a stone in my stomach. The house, once a sanctuary of normalcy, now felt like a prison, its walls closing in with a menacing intimacy.

"So perfectly lovely," he murmured again as he closed the door behind us. I stumbled back, my nerves crackling with an unsettling energy. It wasn’t just fear anymore—it was something darker and more confusing. A part of me ached for normalcy, for escape, while another part was drawn to him with a desperate, confusing need. The line between terror and an inexplicable, forbidden desire blurred beyond recognition. I clung to the last shreds of my sanity, even as I felt myself unraveling under the weight of my own conflicted emotions.

"Why are we here?" I asked, my voice trembling with a mix of breathlessness and an unspoken longing. My heart pounded with a confusing blend of fear and desire. It was as if clarity had returned to me for a fleeting moment, yet I was still tethered to the confusion Hoseok had woven into my days. His promises of relief had begun to erode the pain, even as they wrapped around me like a vice. I remembered the dreams he'd planted in my mind, their seductive whispers blurring my sense of reality.

"I thought you might feel more at ease here," he said softly, his tone smooth and soothing as he followed me through the cluttered living room. Each backward step I took seemed to draw him closer, his presence an inescapable shadow. "Do you like it?"

I hesitated, glancing around at the artifacts of my past—family photos, treasured mementos, relics of a life that now felt so distant. The room was a museum of a future slipping away from me, and Hoseok's eyes seemed intent on taking it all. "Yes, I do," I whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. The room, once a sanctuary of normalcy, now felt like a stage for his dark play.

"I'd like a drink," I said, placing a hand over my racing heart. I clung to the pretense of normalcy, desperate to maintain some semblance of control. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt a flicker of my old self. "Is there anything here? Surely you would... like one... as well."

Hoseok, having long since discarded any pretense of humanity, closed the distance between us with unsettling swiftness. His movements were almost too fluid, his presence too intense. His hands, warm and steady, framed my face with a possessive grace, his gaze fixed on the pulse in my neck, the rich, inviting blood beneath my skin.

"Oh, Y/N, my sweet, innocent little lamb." His voice, a velvety murmur, sent a shiver down my spine. His touch, trailing down to my neck, felt both magnetic and maddening. His eyes lingered on my flesh with a hunger that was almost palpable, a craving that seemed to consume him as much as it did me.

I trembled in his embrace, my conflicting desires mirrored in his touch. A soft moan escaped my lips, my breath warm and trembling with a heady mix of fear and desire. His smile widened, a predatory glint in his eyes as he encircled my waist, his touch moving possessively lower, tracing the curve of my hips and thighs. The tension between fight and flight heightened the charged atmosphere, leaving me both desperate and disoriented.

His eyes traced the flush of my lips, a reflection of the flush between my legs. The scent of my arousal mingled with my anxious heartbeat, a call to the beast inside him. His senses seemed overwhelmed by the promise of my warmth, the floral sweetness of my skin, and the earthy musk of my desire.

"You don't want... a drink?" I stammered, struggling to grasp the situation, to find a shred of reason amid the chaos of my emotions.

"Oh yes, Y/N. I very much desire a... drink." His smile was amused, his lips hovering just above mine. The taste of his breath, mingling with his tantalizing scent, sparked a deep, primal hunger within me. I was alive with all these unfulfilled needs, caught between an overwhelming desire and a paralyzing fear.

I inhaled shakily, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. "What... would you like?" The question was a desperate plea for clarity, a tenuous grasp at the last vestiges of control in a world that had become a tumultuous blur of lust and dread.

A low laugh rumbled in Hoseok’s throat as he brushed his lips over mine, savoring the teasing trace of my flavor. "I want you, Y/N. I want to drink you." His honesty was laced with a raw, consuming need, a plea that mirrored the chaotic mix of longing and fear surging through me. It was clear he had no intention of letting me escape—not now. His tongue traced the corners of my mouth, and his body pressed against mine, making his heat seep through every layer of fabric that separated us.

I trembled, caught in a storm of conflicting emotions. The scents of my home—the cheap cotton sheets, synthetic pillows, and lingering traces of my perfume—led him with a haunting familiarity. He lifted me effortlessly, carrying me with a purposeful stride, and placed me gently at the foot of my bed. The moonlight offered only a weak shield against the encroaching darkness that seemed to swallow us whole.

My heart raced, feeling like a delicate butterfly trapped in a predatory web. As he dropped his coat to the floor and drew me into a deep kiss, my earlier uncertainty dissolved into a raw, electric need. Each touch of his fingers against my body made me shiver, a mix of anticipation and dread coiling tightly within me.

The bed was unmade, its disarray a silent testament to my disordered state. His scent lingered in the tangled sheets and blankets as he lowered me onto them. My sweat-dampened palms gripped his hair, my fingers exploring the nape of his neck and shoulders. The buttons on his shirt came undone beneath my trembling hands, my desire growing bolder despite the icy grip of fear that clenched at my chest. His groan as his teeth grazed my throat made me arch my hips, pressing closer, driven by a need I couldn't fully understand.

My clothes fell away under his hands, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. His eyes devoured every curve of my body, his gaze as palpable as his touch. His mouth descended on mine, hungry and insatiable, and I was enveloped by him, lost in a swirling tempest of our shared desire. His touch became a language, one that read my body with an intimate knowledge I was helpless to resist.

As he explored my secret places, my soft sighs turned into desperate pleas. His searing touch brought goosebumps to my skin, but I pressed closer, overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving me. I was caught between wanting more and the creeping dread of losing myself entirely.

"Y/N," he groaned, his voice a dark promise. "I want to consume you." His words were a growl, a warning wrapped in seductive desire.

"Yes, I want you to. Do it. Take me," I panted, clutching at his shirt sleeve. My body spoke louder than words, arching upwards in desperate need. I knew I didn't fully understand what I was asking for, but the awareness was drowned out by the intensity of my longing.

His hands covered my breasts, his fingers finding my nipples. I gasped, pushing closer as his mouth found each tip, his low growl sending shivers through me. My heart raced beneath his lips, the rush of blood whispering of more delights to come. I arched again, my body twisting off the bed, craving more.

His mouth sucked at my nipple, his tongue flicking to heighten my pleasure. His thigh pressed between mine, the fabric of his jeans rasping over my nakedness, igniting a desperate heat. I moaned and bucked against him, my fingers digging into his arms as I convulsed beneath him, reaching the peak of my desire. The exhilaration of the moment was punctuated by the fear that clawed at the edges of my consciousness, a persistent reminder that I was teetering on the brink of something both irresistible and terrifying.

The climax left me gasping, trembling, caught in a whirlwind of confusion and overwhelming need. Each wave of pleasure only heightened my fear, and my body’s reaction seemed to betray my mind's desperate protests. His touch, relentless and insistent, found a rhythm that both seduced and terrified me. I cried out, unable to stop the sounds that escaped my lips, but a part of me wanted to resist.

I tried to pull away, my hand grasping his wrist with a frantic intensity. "What... what are you doing to me…?" My voice was a ragged whisper, trembling with a blend of confusion and fear.

He looked at me with a dark, hungry smile, his eyes alight with a dangerous fire. "Y/N, don’t lie to yourself," he said softly, his fingers curling in ways that made my body shudder. "You’re not overwhelmed. Your body is telling me you want this. You’re close to coming again. I can feel it."

My protests dissolved into incoherent moans as his touch stimulated a spot deep within me. The pleasure was a cruel paradox, blurring the line between ecstasy and dread. I could barely think, my mind clouded by the intensity of his actions.

"No, Hoseok, it’s too much," I whimpered, struggling to catch my breath. "I can’t..."

His mouth moved to mine, his lips teasing, his breath warm against my skin. "You’re a beautiful little liar," he murmured. "It’s not too much. You crave this. You know you do. Beg for it."

The force of his command broke through my haze of desire. "Please, Hoseok...," I gasped, my will crumbling under his dominance. My words felt like a betrayal, but I couldn’t stop myself from begging. "Please, just... take me."

His satisfaction was palpable, a dangerous hunger in his eyes. His touch grew more urgent, driving me to the brink of madness. I was lost in a maelstrom of sensation, my mind screaming to pull away, but my body’s response only seemed to draw him closer.

The moment of his thrust was jarring, a mix of pain and pleasure that overwhelmed me. My body reacted instinctively, my hips rising to meet him even as my mind struggled to grasp the reality of what was happening. The intense pleasure was intermingled with a profound fear, a dread of losing myself completely.

His movements were urgent, almost desperate, as though he were chasing an elusive climax. I was limp in his arms, my breathing ragged, torn between an unbearable desire and an escalating terror.

Despite my growing fear, I clung to him, my hands fumbling for some semblance of control. My kisses were desperate, seeking to anchor myself amidst the chaos. His touch was relentless, and every stroke seemed to heighten the conflict within me.

He pressed closer, his hands exploring with a possessive intensity. My body’s reactions were at odds with my thoughts, creating a tumultuous storm of sensation and fear. My mind raced, grappling with the realization of what was happening, but the pleasure was so consuming that it blurred the line between consent and coercion.

As the moment approached, I felt his breath on my neck, a chilling reminder of the danger that lurked beneath his seductive veneer. The final act was a blur, my fear mingling with an overwhelming rush of sensation.

I was a walking paradox—caught between heaven and hell, life and death, sin and redemption. His presence was a fiery furnace, consuming me with the heat of stolen life he had been deprived of for so long. My body clenched around him, a pulsating rhythm that seemed to drive him to the edge of his sanity. His pleasure was overwhelming, a torrent of sensations that painted the world in a chaotic blaze of colors.

“Hoseok, please…” I whispered, my voice a fragile breath against the overpowering cacophony of sensations. I wasn’t sure if my plea was for him to stop or to continue, a desperate cry from a place deep within me that I couldn’t fully comprehend. My fear was a gnawing presence, clawing at the edges of my desire, but the confusion of what I wanted and what I was willing to accept blurred together.

His eyes were dark with a twisted satisfaction as he sensed the last of my climax and my blood draining from me. The thought of taking me to the brink of death both exhilarated and haunted him. His grip tightened, and with a guttural snarl, he pulled away from my neck, his fangs retracting with a mixture of frustration and reluctant restraint. The rush of his thirst roared inside him, but he forced himself to temper his need.

I was an indulgence he wouldn’t be denied again, a forbidden pleasure he was determined to claim. He gently laid me back on the disheveled sheets, my heartbeat weak and fluttering. He licked the last drops of blood from my skin, his breath ragged and uneven. Each touch was deliberate, sealing the wounds with a final, lingering caress—a practical necessity for a demon who wanted to savor every part of me.

“Mine,” he growled, his voice a low, dark promise that vibrated through my core. “You are mine, Y/N. From now until death claims you, until I claim you.” His breath was warm and heavy against my face. My eyelids fluttered, barely able to focus, but his words penetrated my haze. “If any other man dares to touch you, I will tear him apart. Remember this, my beautiful little lamb. Remember who you belong to.”

“Hoseok,” I murmured, my voice a faint echo of surrender. His satisfaction was palpable, a twisted delight in my obedience and submission. He rose and slipped out of the room, leaving me tangled in sheets and blankets. From across the street, hidden in the shadows, he watched and listened, his gaze a persistent weight on my fragile state.

As dawn’s first light crept through the blinds, it painted the room in a sickly, eerie glow. I lay amidst the tangled sheets, each twist revealing new bruises and bite marks—a grotesque map of the night’s events etched into my skin. The aftermath was a haunting blend of pleasure and torment, an unsettling reminder of what had transpired.

Hoseok’s presence lingered in the room like a shadow that refused to lift. The darkness he brought with him clung to the corners, an inescapable reminder of the nightmare I had just lived through. My mind, once a storm of fear and confusion, now spun in a twisted acceptance—a deranged serenity that felt as liberating as it was unsettling.

The door creaked open like the groan of an old house settling into its own despair. Hoseok reappeared, his eyes still gleaming with that predatory glow, but now softened by an unsettling tenderness. He moved towards me with a deliberate grace, each step imbued with a dark reverence that made my heart pound with a blend of fear and reluctant desire.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice a low, seductive murmur that slithered across the room. “Do you understand now? You are mine, every inch of you.”

I looked up at him, my smile a grotesque reflection of the twisted contentment that had taken root in me. It was not a smile of joy or freedom but a shadowy acknowledgment of a reality I could no longer escape. My old life had withered into obscurity, replaced by the suffocating reality Hoseok had imposed upon me.

“Yes,” I breathed, the word barely escaping my lips. “I belong to you.”

The truth of my submission felt like a heavy, warm blanket, pressing down on me with an oppressive weight. Despite the enormity of what I had given up—my freedom, my chance to reclaim any semblance of my old life—there was an undeniable satisfaction in surrendering wholly to him. The pain and loss had twisted into a perverse form of fulfillment, filling the void in my chest with a dark semblance of love.

Hoseok’s smile widened, a dark curve that spoke of unyielding possession. He reached out, his hand caressing my cheek with a gentleness that clashed violently with the ferocity of his claim. The room seemed to close in around us, the air thick with a palpable tension, as if the very walls bore witness to my surrender.

“You will never leave me,” he murmured, his eyes locked onto mine with an unbreakable determination. “You are mine, forever.”

I nodded, the movement small and almost imperceptible, but it was enough. It was a surrender, a relinquishment of my will to the dark force that was Hoseok. He pulled me into his arms, and I felt my resolve melt away, my body becoming a canvas for his power, intermingling with the strange warmth of our shared connection.

As his darkness enveloped me, I felt a disturbing sense of belonging. In the shadows of the night, under his control, my fears and desires tangled together, creating a new reality that was both terrifying and intoxicating. In that moment, I understood there was no turning back. I was his, bound in body and soul by the twisted threads of fate and desire.

Hoseok’s eyes softened as he pulled me close, his cold skin a stark contrast to the feverish heat of my own body. His embrace was a strange sanctuary, a place where I felt both ensnared and cherished. My mind, once a battleground of conflicting emotions, had slipped into a state of blissful madness. In Hoseok’s dark embrace, I discovered a twisted joy that defied all rational thought.

“I’ve given you everything,” he murmured, his breath cold against my ear. “We are bound now, Y/N. Forever.”

His words were a chilling promise that resonated through the marrow of my bones, a haunting echo that left me trembling uncontrollably. I clung to him, my grip a mix of desperate need and profound terror, as a disturbing form of happiness took root in the darkest corners of my mind. The loss of my old life, the sacrifice of everything I had once held dear, seemed like a fevered dream compared to the unsettling contentment I felt in his arms.

As the first light of dawn filtered into the room, casting long, distorted shadows that twisted and writhed, I looked at Hoseok with a gaze that was both adoring and disturbingly fractured. The vibrant world I had once known had dissolved into a distant memory, replaced by a nightmarish existence defined by the twisted love and passion we shared. My heart swelled with a love so profound it overshadowed any lingering regret, even as my mind spiraled further into chaos.

Hoseok’s final words were a chilling promise wrapped in disturbing tenderness. “Remember, Y/N,” he whispered softly, his voice a ghostly caress in the dim light. “You are mine, in every sense—in your heart, in your mind, and in your soul.”

As the door creaked shut behind him, the morning light seeping in like a reluctant witness, I was left enveloped in the oppressive embrace of the darkness we had forged together. My smile, twisted and unnatural, reflected the bizarre, unsettling happiness I had found in the abyss. I was forever bound to the night, my soul tangled in the shadows of Hoseok’s dark desires.

The room seemed to breathe with the remnants of his presence, each corner cloaked in an oppressive stillness that mirrored the void he had filled within me. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the cacophony of fragmented thoughts that raged in my mind. Now, there was only the echo of his words, the haunting promise of a future forever intertwined with his darkness.

I lay there, wrapped in the aftermath of our twisted union, my body marked by the evidence of his possession. Each bruise, each bite mark was a grotesque map of the new life I had been forced into. The pain was now a distant echo, overshadowed by the profound and disturbing contentment that gnawed at my chest—a contentment born of both surrender and madness.

As the minutes ticked by and the morning light grew stronger, I found myself replaying his final words in my mind, my thoughts fracturing with each repetition. “You are mine, in every sense—in your heart, in your mind, and in your soul.” The truth of those words reverberated through me like a haunting mantra, a binding contract signed with my very essence, even as my grip on reality slipped further away.

There was no turning back, no reclaiming the life I had once known. I was irrevocably his, a willing participant in the dark dance we had begun. The thought brought a grotesque smile to my lips, a smile that spoke of a happiness found in the shadows, a contentment born of surrender and madness.

At least, I wanted to believe it was madness alone that made me forget how afraid I was.

October 31, 2024

The house had become an enigmatic beast, its former guise of normalcy utterly transformed. From the street, it looked like any other home—silent and shadowy against the midnight sky. But within its walls, it was something else entirely. The shutters were clamped shut, keeping out any unwelcome glimmers of daylight. The curtains, heavy with dust, obscured the outside world, making everything inside a surreal, dreamlike blur.

Within this labyrinth of darkness, the house seemed like a twisted echo of a familiar nightmare. The air was thick with the mingling scents of old incense and stale dreams, creating a heavy, almost intoxicating atmosphere. Flickering candlelight cast eerie, jittery shadows that danced and twisted, as if mocking my attempts at normalcy. Silence pressed down on me, almost alive in its oppressive weight.

Days blurred into one another, each indistinguishable from the next in a fog of disorientation. Hoseok’s routines had become my own, though I couldn’t quite remember how or when they had taken over. My existence revolved around small tasks—cooking, cleaning, and performing acts of devotion—that had evolved into a kind of ritualistic pattern. It was as though each action was a silent offering to the enigmatic darkness that had enveloped our lives.

When I glanced in the mirror, the person staring back was a ghostly apparition of my former self. My face, serene to the point of being unsettling, bore a look of eerie contentment. I was a wraith, drifting through my days with a confusing mix of dread and satisfaction.

As night fell, the house came alive with an almost palpable energy. Hoseok’s presence was overwhelming, filling the space with his dark, commanding aura. His arrival was always marked by the ritualistic locking of doors, a subtle reminder of his control. The sensations of pleasure and pain that accompanied his touch had become a surreal symphony, a haunting reminder of the path I had chosen.

One particularly cold night, as the moonlight filtered through the grime-covered windows, Hoseok and I stood together, looking out into the void. The world outside was a distant blur, an irrelevant expanse that felt disconnected from my reality. The sky stretched above us, a vast, unyielding black, reflecting the emptiness of my existence. We were bound together by something primal and deep, though its true nature remained elusive.

Time inside these walls seemed to warp and distort. The house, once a symbol of normalcy, had turned into a crypt of our peculiar existence. The outside world had faded into obscurity, replaced by the certainty of Hoseok’s presence. I had found a strange form of happiness in this eternal night, where the terror of the outside world had been replaced by the dark, enveloping comfort of Hoseok’s embrace.

As I settled into my favorite worn leather chair, the house seemed to pulse with anticipation for Hoseok’s return. My knitting supplies were spread around me, with a scarf for Hoseok in progress. I hummed softly, my heart beating with a sense of calm and eager expectancy, as if I were awaiting a beloved dream to resume.

I replayed our last conversation in my mind, Hoseok’s words lingering like a haunting melody. “An old friend is coming for a visit,” he’d said, a hint of mischief in his voice. “She’s good at dealing with werewolves.”

I couldn’t suppress a bubbling laugh, the sound rising unbidden. “Isn’t she the one Namjoon’s obsessed with?”

His kiss on my temple had been darkly tender, sending shivers of pleasure through me. “Clever girl. It will be fun.”

I teased him playfully. “Don’t cause too much trouble.”

His laughter resonated through me, sending a thrill down my spine. “When have I ever been nice, lamb?”

“Nice to me,” I’d replied, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Very, very nice.”

Settling back into the leather chair, the hearth’s flickering light casting long, shifting shadows, I resumed my knitting with a serene focus. Each stitch felt like a small act of devotion, a testament to my growing obsession. I hummed softly, my heart a silent witness to the peace I had found in this twisted, eternal night. The lines between fear and love, sanity and madness, had merged into a strange, intoxicating tapestry that I no longer fully understood.

Hoseok said I was perfect. His praise was a balm to my disoriented soul.

I smiled, pushing away any lingering doubts about my sanity. I was fine. I was perfect.

Pager Codes:

110 307 - Go To Bar

209 - On My Way

08 - OK

420 - You’re in trouble

3011 - Be Careful

221 - Where are you?

419 - I don’t understand

100 - Come Back

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just-another-author-i-guess · 2 years ago

Note

More Judd smut?

More Judd smut yay (,:

Tags: fem! Reader, porn with a little plot?, what the fuck is hormone monster dialogue, everyone is horny fr, Nick and Andrew are creeps, but also scared of Judd, and very curious, questionable babysitting?, smoking, participating in the act of “getting stoned”, smoking inside, use of the word simp un-ironically, Judd gives super useless dating advice, not so safe sex, please use protection! please do not read if you’re uncomfortable with smut(,:

Summary: you and Judd are the designated babysitters for the night.

Read my OG Judd story? Here

Author’s note: hi gang (,: I remember when I was like “mental illness funny haha” but it’s really not funny anymore 🥹 I know I disappear all the time,, and I don’t even wanna apologize this time lol. But anyways, this has been brewing in my docs for like MONTHS and now I’ve come back, humbly offering you another Judd smut since the other one is surprisingly popular. Eat well, my children

The one where Judd gives dating advice

4,4K words

(Note, Judd is so cute and I love him :,)

“I don’t care about those horny little shits, I’m just saying they’re old enough to fuck off and do whatever they want. I don’t want my pissstain of a brother hanging around you, your sister is also fucking weird—“

You gently elbowed him. “—You’re fucking weird, Judd. And the kids aren’t really that bad, you’re a bit dramatic, babe,” you said, and he angrily grumbled something in response as he slammed the microwave shut. The microwave made a noise, and you watched the third batch of popcorn slowly expand and start to pop.

Unfortunately for Judd, your parents had collectively decided to go out the day you had promised him a date. Mr and Mrs Birch got a coupon for a recently opened Thai restaurant and decided to invite yours, Missy’s and Andrew’s parents out for dinner, making you the designated babysitter of the night. Leah had ditched the whole ordeal, and Judd was planning to ditch as well until you sent him a picture of your tits and told him he could still come over if he behaved.

With Maury clouding his judgement, there was no fucking way he could say no to that.

So now, he was stuck making popcorn for a bunch of middle schoolers. Not to mention he had a pretty bad track record with the kids, they were all absolutely terrified of him. Except of course Jessie, who was deeply in love with him. He grunted in annoyance, turning around to face you with his arms crossed over his chest.

He had been muttering complaints under his breath ever since you started setting up for the movie. He was absolutely livid that the kids stole away his one-on-one private time with his girlfriend, but for you (and your boobs) he tried to somewhat restrain himself.

“Judd, baby, look at me,” you stepped out in front of him, reaching up and gently rubbing his cheek, forcing his attention on you. “I know this is not ideal. But, if you play nice, I have a little something for you when the kids go to bed,” you purred, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

He grabbed your waist, kneading the soft flesh in his big hands. Even though he looked intimidating as all hell, not to mention he absolutely towered over you, he was wrapped around your pinky finger.

He leaned down and buried his face in your neck. “It better be good, slut..” he grunted, brushing his lips over your neck. You slapped the back of his head, feeling him frown against your skin. “I said behave, bitch-boy.” Your tone was sharp, and he knew not to push you any further.

“Fine, alright. Whatever.” He grumbled, hugging you closer to his body.

It was precisely 7’oclock when the kids arrived. Jessie was still in her room, not wanting to hang out with you and Judd alone; she had refused to come out after your parents left.

Surprisingly, Judd was the first at the door. He grinned evilly. “Welcome to purgatory, you little shits.” He said, looking down at the 8th graders menacingly. “Bitch! Your sister's dumb friends are here!” He called over his shoulder.

You huffed audibly. “Are you gonna let them in or what, numbnuts?” You called back to him, pouring the last packet of popcorn into a bowl.

He frowned and stepped aside, letting the now pretty frightened kids inside. Missy walked in first, smiling nervously at Judd, then came Andrew and Nick.

Nick was about to step inside, when Judd put a hand on his shoulder. The younger boy stopped dead in his tracks, praying to whatever god he could think of that his brother would let him off easy. “I didn’t do anything! Judd, I swear, please let me go!” He shouted, voice breaking multiple times.

A ghost of a smirk crossed Judd’s face. “Don’t try shit, or I will rip your tiny dick off and force it down your throat. Got it, asslicker?”

Nick swallowed thickly, frantically nodding his head. Of course Judd had picked up on his brother's crush on you, as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world.

“Y-You got it, Judd!” He confirmed, panicked chuckles escaping him.

“Judd. Let him inside.” You stomped up to them, looking so livid you scared Judd back into being nice as you crossed your arms over your chest. Nick looked away quickly, a pink flush covering his face and neck.

Judd pushed Nick inside with a frown, once again not being able to refuse you. The kids looked on in bewilderment as the intimidating teen seemed to slightly cower under your glare, complying to your will. He looked down at them with something akin to shame, before following after you like a lost puppy.

The kids were in complete shock. Had Judd been fucking possesed?

You called out to Jessie, telling her to come out of her room, before dragging Judd back into the kitchen.

“Y/nnn! Can you start the movie already?” Jessie whined loudly.

A bit of shuffling could be heard in the kitchen. ”I-In a minute! We’re just fixing some drinks!” You called out, voice slightly shaky.

“.. do you really think they’re getting drinks?” Missy asked, after an agonising minute of silence. The kids sat stiffly on the couch.

You had told them to make themselves at home, but none of them were able to really calm down with Judd in the house.

Jessie scoffed. “Does it sound like they’re getting drinks? My sister's kind of a slut if you haven’t noticed.” She spat.

Nick rolled his eyes. “So is Judd.”

The two of them weren’t able to get over their jealousy of your relationship, somehow not yet registering that they didn’t stand a chance with high schoolers.

“Come on guys, that’s not a very nice thing to say,” Missy said nervously, glancing at the kitchen door.

“Jessie, do you think it’s possible I can get a glass of milk? I feel very dehydrated right now,” Andrew muttered, wringing his hands.

Jessie sighed and Nick immediately began explaining in detail how Judd would murder him. But ultimately, after a long and intense discussion, the kids decided to venture into the kitchen.

“You promised to be nice,” You said over your shoulder, holding Judd’s hand as you pulled him to the kitchen.

“I am nice.” He huffed, letting go of your hand and instead reaching out to grab your waist. He gently lifted you, setting you down on the counter top before stepping in between your legs. For a moment you thought he would lead it somewhere, but your face morphed into a gentle smile when he buried his face in your neck, hands gently rubbing up and down your sides.

You softly stroked his hair, making the angry agent of chaos visibly relax as he melted into your touch. “You didn’t even last ten seconds,” You muttered, immediately recognizing his actions as jealousy.

He breathed out against your neck, and you couldn’t help but softly laugh at the tingly feeling. “It was nice enough for me to make the popcorn, do you want me to fucking hand feed them too?” He grumbled, straightening up so he could glare down at you.

You rolled your eyes. “Calm down there, Mr. grumpy-pants. All I ask is that you remain civil for the night, or at least until the movie’s over,” You gave him your very best puppy dog eyes, reaching up to gently brush your hands over his jaw again. Reluctantly, he leaned into your touch, fighting to keep his angry glare.

Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t deny how absolutely soft he was for you. Your touch calmed him like no other, not even horror movies or tormenting the neighbourhood made him feel as gleeful as when you touched him.

He hummed in response, not really registering what you said, too focused on your touch. His own hands travelled from your waist to your thighs, gently squeezing. You let out a soft little sigh and instantly Maury appeared.

‘What? What’d I miss? You’re gonna fuck?’ The hormone monster asked, observing the situation. ‘Oooh! You should totally have a quickie, let’s see how many fingers you can stuff in her before the kids find out!’ He grinned, shaking Judd by the shoulders.

“Shut the fuck up.” Judd growled, making Maury let out a series of horse laughs. ‘Oh ho ho ho! At least get a good feel of her boob, we need something to get through the movie!’ He said dramatically, before patting Judd’s head and walking off in search of new entertainment.

Judd thought about it for a moment, before slowly sliding his right hand up your tummy until he could palm one of your tits.

“Judd,” You said, placing your hand over the one he had on your chest, but not removing it. “You gotta behave, alright? Just for tonight. And you can touch aaall you want after, I promise,” You said, finishing the sentence with a long kiss to his cheek.

“Fuck. Okay, fine.” He relented, removing his hand from your boob and intertwining his fingers with yours instead. He leaned in, pressing a series of wet kisses to your jaw and neck.

You hummed happily, half closing your eyes until you caught movement somewhere over Judd’s shoulders. You immediately straightened up, opening your eyes fully only to make eye contact with four completely stupefied middle schoolers.

The kids were too stunned to speak, literally.

Andrew was stammering incoherently, Nick seemed to find the ceiling very interesting, Missy and Jessi had both turned completely red in face but for very different reasons.

“Oh. Hello,” You said awkwardly, pushing Judd away and jumping off the counter quickly.

Your boyfriend in question let out a disappointed grunt, murderously glaring down the kids but keeping quiet. You all stood in complete silence for a few, agonisingly long seconds, until Andrew finally spoke up.

Still wringing his hands, the preteen stepped slightly closer to you. “Y/n, I’m very sorry to interrupt. But could I maybe get a glass of milk? It would really help with my nervous stomach—“ You cut him off before he could go into further detail about his digestive system and smiled warmly at him.

“—Of course. Why don’t you follow Judd back into the living room, he’ll start the movie for you and then I’ll be right out. Okay?”

If looks could kill, you’d be six feet under.

Judd bore holes through your back with his eyes, as you turned to open the fridge. “O-okay! Once again, thank you Y/n,” Andrew said, seemingly relieved.

Slowly the kids turned to walk out the kitchen, drizzling out one after the other. Jessi bore a somewhat mischievous smile, walking a bit slower on purpose in hopes she could walk next to Judd. Your boyfriend sighed heavily, uncrossing his arms and following after the kids. He was slowly coming to realise that he had no other choice, than to be a slave for a gang of middle schoolers.

The kids were again stiffly seated on the couch, this time with Judd sitting in the far end. Jessie had glued herself to his side, shamelessly sitting as close to him as possible. He was sure he would accidentally hit her if he moved his arm just the slightest.

He was holding the remote, quickly flicking through movies on netflix as the kids fought over what to watch.

“Shut the fuck up.” He barked. “I’ll find you a good movie,” And by “good movie'' he meant the absolutely goriest horror flick netflix had to offer.

Judd grinned sinisterly as he chose a movie, looking over to see the kids all sporting comically shocked expressions.

Andrew carefully glanced at Judd. “Excuse me, Judd, but are you sure this movie is suitable for children?” He asked.

“Y-yeah. Doesn’t that say you have to be sixteen..? My mom said I shouldn’t watch scary movies until I feel ready,” Missy added.

Nick didn’t say anything. He was scared enough of his brother already to disagree openly with him, and he also didn’t want to seem like a wimp in front of Jessi.

“It’s about time you little pussies grow up. Be quiet and just watch the fucking movie,” Judd said, as mischievously as his monotone voice would allow him to sound.

Jessi nodded gravely. “Yeah, guys. Shut up. It’s just a movie,” She said, looking up at Judd with big eyes for approval. He only grunted, pressing start on the remote.

Within the first few minutes, Andrew and Nick were clinging to each other. Missy was curled in on herself, watching the movie through her spread fingers. Judd grinned evilly, satisfied with his choice as he started digging through his pockets.

He was quick to dig up a lighter and half a blunt. A bloody jumpscare in the movie made Jessi jerk and grab onto Judd’s arm, slightly shaking. He sighed deeply, annoyed, but let it slide. He lit the blunt, throwing his feet up on the coffee table and tilting his head back as he inhaled deeply.

“Judd, I told you not to smoke inside,” You grumbled, returning to the living room with drinks and even more popcorn. Judd raised his head slightly, cocking an eyebrow at you. “Shut up,” He simply said, gesturing to the way Jessi was clinging to him.

You had to stifle a laugh, quickly setting the snacks on the coffee table and handing the milk to Andrew, who reached out to take it with a shaky hand, refusing to look at the tv.

Upon noticing the lack of space on the couch, Judd beckoned you to his lap. You happily sat down, Jessi giving you a disturbed look as your body gently pushed hers away.

“What the hell are we even watching?” You asked, Judd shrugged. “Dunno. Summer camp massacre something,” He said, handing you the blunt as you got comfortable on his lap.

You took a long drag, nuzzling into Judd as his hands came down to hold your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Guys,” Missy suddenly whispered, eyes glued to you and Judd. “Is that.. Marijuana.. As in drugs?”

Judd chuckled, you could feel him move beneath you as you struggled to keep from laughing yourself.

You said the only appropriate answer you could scrape from your brain; “Well.. Yeah.”

Missy’s eyes grew to sorcerers. “You can’t do that! Marijuana is a gateway drug! It could mess up your brain- Oh fudge! It could mess up my brain from inhaling secondhand!”

This time you couldn’t conceal your giggle, handing the blunt back to Judd as you leaned forward. You smiled softly at the younger. “Don’t worry about it, Missy. You’re way too smart to be corrupted by secondhand smoke,” You said. Missy nodded reluctantly, a small smile appearing on her face as she accepted the compliment.

“Mom will actually kill you,” Jessi mumbled and you fondly ruffled her hair. “She won’t if you keep your mouth shut.” You teased, as she scowled at you. Her eyes quickly left yours, to blatantly stare at Judd as he blew clouds of smoke out his nose. He truly looked like an angry dragon, staring at the movie screen with furrowed brows.

Jessi went bright red, looking away immediately when Judd turned to meet her gaze. You grinned, ruffling her hair again before relaxing back into your boyfriend. Judd gave another annoyed grumble, but soon relaxed himself.

Somehow, the kids managed to be quiet for the duration of the movie as you finished the blunt and most of the snacks.

Jessi fell asleep against you, having ended up clutching your hand for safety (probably from the masked killer on screen). Missy fell asleep against Andrew, the two huddled in a pile. Nick had slid down from the couch, attempting to hide from the movie but ending up sleeping under the coffee table.

By the time credits came on screen, you and Judd were the only ones awake. Pleasantly hazy from the smoke session, you turned your head to smile at him.

“You were so good. I like nice Judd,” You muttered, leaning up to press a soft, slow kiss to his lips.

He immediately deepened the kiss, claiming his price. In a horny daze, his hands migrated to your butt and his tongue invaded your mouth. You sighed, a bit too loudly and let your own hands wander. Over his shoulders, rubbing down his chest and abdomen till eventually they rested just over his belt.

The hiss that escaped him as your hands pressed to his crotch, definitely did not go unnoticed and you responded in kind by moving from his lips, messily gliding wet kisses down his jaw and neck. You bit him playfully, but still hard enough to leave indents in his perfectly smooth neck.

‘Oooh, baby!’ Right on time, Connie appeared at your side. She purred like a cat, curling around you and Judd on the couch. ‘Why don’t you hurry and jump right on up on that delicious dick of his? You know he can make you feel reeeeeaaaal good,’ She drawled.

Barely acknowledging her, you dumbly nodded in agreement.

‘Hurry, dumpling! Don’t got much time before the kiddies wake up,’ She urged you, poking Jessi with a long fingernail, and indeed, your sister was starting to stir.

You could only let out a frustrated huff. Judd had your hair fisted in one hand and your hip clutched tightly in the other, helping you rut yourself against his growing bulge in long, hazy strokes. He felt good, you felt good, everything felt so, so good and moving away from the heavenly friction could not be more of a bother.

You leaned forward a bit, which came with resistance considering his tight grip on your hair, and whined lowly in his ear.

Gently, you nosed at his cheek. “Judd.. the kitchen. C’mon,” You breathed.

He retaliated by grinding up into you, much harder than before, allowing you to feel the entirety of his now, very hard, length. You moaned loudly in response.

“We need to.. the kitchen— they’re waking up,” It was a difficult task to form the right words, with the increased amount of pleasure, so you scratched his shoulders, gently, to get your point across.

Leaning in, he captured your lips in a hard kiss, licking into your mouth with such fervour your head was spinning. He let go, biting down on your bottom lip and dragging it back before pulling away completely.

“Stupid fucking kids,” He gritted, tongue swiping over his lips, plump from kissing.

Heaving, you bit your bottom lip and batted your eyelashes at him in a most sultry display that was sure to make Connie proud. A sinister grin spread across his face, when he got an idea and he let go of your hair in favour of kneading your ass in both his hands.

“I’ll fuck you on the table, slut, be grateful.” It was a demand, but you didn’t mind because right at that moment, nothing truly sounded more pleasing than getting railed on the dining table in your mothers kitchen.

A shudder went through you at the thought, warmth slushing in your belly and still, you grinned coyly at him. “Only because you were so well behaved. I’m starting to think you actually like them, Juddy-Wuddy?” You said, motioning to the four kids as you cooed at him.

You got him with that one. Watching with glee as his jaw clenched and he sent you a look that could only mean one of two things; he was going to kill you or plow you until you could no longer walk. You highly suspected the latter.

Your boyfriend scoffed. “It’s almost cute how damn smart you think you are, huh? You fucking bitch.” He glowered. He despised when you called him that, one of the many terrible nicknames you had overheard his mom call him, and he always fell right into your trap.

Before you could start to respond, he was rising from the couch, hands manoeuvring under your thighs to lift you up with him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, legs tighter around his waist to keep his clothed cock pressed up against your core, and nuzzled your face into his neck.

His hands were warm on your thighs, so big they almost covered them entirely when he spread his fingers. You latched onto his neck again, engraving lots of little purple marks, just how he liked it.

His response came as a strained grunt, as he barreled into the kitchen and dropped you on the corner dining table.

The table was cold, you squealed as your thighs dragged along the cool surface and Judd wasted no time, leaning over you and pushing your skirt up to expose your panties.

A sinister grin spread across his face when he found your panties were already damp and soaked, his award for being a prime example of a boyfriend this evening.

You bucked your hips, mewling for attention and hoping he would be quick to relieve you of the throbbing between your thighs.

He laughed, low and husky as he watched you writhe on the table beneath him. Your lips were swollen and plump, a deep blush covered your cheeks and your hair was messily spread out over the table’s surface. His dick ached.

‘Boi-oi-oi-oing!’ Maury was right behind him, a wild smile split his face and he let his tongue hang out, looking more like a rabid dog than a hormone monster.

‘C’mon! Shove your fist inside her, she obviously wants it!’ Maury barked, shaking Judd by the shoulders. The teen shook him off, grumbling a threat as he returned to the task at hand.

You heaved in a breath, tongue coming out to wet your lips again. “Judd, I swear to god, do something—“ You pleaded, desperately.

“— have patience. And shut the fuck up.” Judd grunted, long fingers creeping towards the wet patch on your panties. Then, he pressed down, right in the middle of the wetness where your much neglected clit sat.

Gasping, you reached out to grasp his bicep. He pressed down again, keeping his thump there and swirling it in circles. You gasped and whined his name softly, the wet fabric glided over your most sensitive part so well it was hard to think about keeping quiet.

He was quick to silence you with a kiss, however, as his left hand finally, finally, left the wet patch to pull your panties off. You helped him shake them off, too focused with the cool air blowing on your hot core to notice how he crumbled up your panties and stuffed them in his back pocket.

You begged for him again, whines disappearing into his open mouth as he kept it slotted over yours.

He shushed you, putting his weight on his right hand as he leaned in further between your legs, suddenly stuffing two fingers into you, in one smooth motion. You cried out so loudly and desperately that not even Judd’s wet kisses could conceal it, he gave you another rough thrust of his fingers in retaliation.

Your eyes were half closed, lips forming an ‘o’ as he pulled away from your mouth to bite at your neck. His fingers reached a depth that your own could not, hitting a softer, mushier spot in your pussy that had you seeing stars each time. He was so rough with his thrusts too, working quickly and effectively to bring you to ecstasy and making the table rattle slightly. You could only pray that the slight scraping on the tiled kitchen floor could not be heard in the living room.

What was much louder, however, were your own loud gasps and breathy moans of your boyfriend's name. The closer you got, the louder your pleas became.

Judd bit your neck again, hard enough to turn the skin purple. “I said, be quiet, bitch.” He groaned into your neck, panting slightly as the pace of his hand increased.

You tried, but really couldn’t. The lewd squelching sound and the rapid stroking of his two fingers against your g-spot had you mewling and bucking against him. And it certainly didn’t help, when his thumb pressed down on your clit as well.

His slender fingers didn’t create much of a stretch, but you knew he was preparing you for his monstrous cock and because his fingers were so deliciously long the waiting time was never disappointing.

You could vaguely hear Connie bustling about in the background, shouting her encouragement and coaxing you to tell Judd all sorts of lewd things. You didn’t listen, you couldn’t when you were so, so close to your breaking point.

With your body on fire, liquid pleasure in your veins, your toes curled and you tilted your head to allow Judd better access to the unmarked parts of it. He graciously took the opportunity, returning his grip on your head to position you just how he wanted.

Your thighs clenched around Judd’s arm, lip trembling as your eyes crossed in pleasure. “Judd..!”

And then he was pulling away, you whined desperately in the process, only to be silenced with a large hand slapped across your mouth.

“I told you to be quiet, bitch.” He snarled, his voice now so deep and feral it made you shiver. He squeezed your cheeks together, a bit of drool escaped your mouth and smeared on his hand, as he pulled you to a sitting position. “Didn’t I?”

Your pussy throbbed, clenching around nothing at both the rough treatment and being so suddenly void of stimulation.

With your cheeks squished together, you couldn’t respond, so you opted for frantically nodding your head, softly whining out for him. You needed him inside you, and it had to be now.

You rutted yourself against the table, slick following you and making a trail on the wooden surface, it felt good, but definitely not as good as Judd’s cock would feel.

“Pw-pf..a..e.. Pwase!” You begged him, hands wandering towards his belt, feeling him up and unbuckling his belt buckle. You gasped quietly, he was so hard it had to hurt and the feeling of him pressed to your palm made you clench around nothing again. Despite the layers of clothes between you.

He moaned, but reached down to gather both wrists in his free hand and pinning them together. “You think you think you deserve that? After all the fucking noise you made?”

You cried out and nodded. Judd grinned sinisterly. “You’re so pathetic, you little slut. You know that?”

You wanted to kick him, or at least insult him back but the throbbing in your cunt and the fact that his words only made that throb so much worse, made it quite hard to do so.

Then, he leaned in, resting his chin on top of your head and inhaled your hair deeply. “You’re my little slut.” He grunted and, oh, you could have cum right there.

You nuzzled into him, burying your head where his neck became his chest and started leaving small, wet kisses.

He didn’t let go of either your wrists or mouth, instead he barked one simple order; “Off.” and brought your bound wrists towards his crotch again.

You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately getting to work and shoving both his pants and underwear as far down as your position would allow you to grab at his dick.

Hissing in pleasure, he pulled you closer to him. He was throbbing and warm in your hand, heavy and so swollen the head had almost turned purple, you tried lifting yourself up, tried to get just the tiniest bit of friction.

You pumped him slowly, he was sticky with pre-cum already and he dropped his head into your hair again, burying his face into you with a strained groan. He, too, was close to his breaking point.

Letting your wrists and cheeks free, he opted to grab under both your hips, lifting them up to hover above his dick. You let go of him, fingers coming to scratch at the table as he did the remainder of work for you and you fell back on the table.

“This what you want?” He grunted, thrusting experimentally and nudging his cockhead against your swollen little pearl.

“Yes.. yes, yes! Please, Judd, it hurts, I need it..!” You blabbered, cheeks puffy and face screwed up as you felt your empty pussy ache with anticipation. Only your boyfriend's dick could ease the twang in your lower belly.

He inhaled sharply through his nose, face set in stone and brows drawn together as he finally thrusted into you, filling you so completely in that one thrust, that you suddenly felt too full.

The bit of pain from the wide stretch you felt melted into white-hot pleasure almost as soon as it appeared and when Judd pressed a bit more into you, his hip bones meeting yours, you came instantly.

You cried out, overwhelmed by the sudden and immense pleasure. Judd cursed, rather loudly and tried pressing further into you, holding you flush against him as you clenched uncontrollably around him. You were even tighter now, so tight it almost hurt and so he waited for you to ride out your orgasm, breathing heavily.

“Shit.. fuck you! Ah!” He nearly whined at the feeling, blunt nails digging into the plush flesh on your hips.

Panting, sobbing and sighing, you slowly came down from your orgasm, not at all ready when Judd suddenly started thrusting again. You were already overstimulated, but the wide stretch and feeling of his cock inside felt so heavenly.

You couldn’t help the never-ending mantra of his name that escaped you, matching each of his violent thrusts. He wanted you to feel him as deep as possible, you knew, and he made sure of it. Leaning in over you to hit you at a deeper angle, pressing down on your belly as he fucked you to see himself bulging through.

“Judd, m’so full,” You slurred, digging your nails into his shoulders, as deep as they would go. He grunted a response, sweat gathering on his dark brows; “You gotta be quiet, baby.” He was strained as he spoke, teeth clenched and warm breath fanning your face.

Then, he squeezed under your thighs again, sliding you towards the edge of the table. “Spread your legs.” He demanded gravelly, and you easily complied. He pressed himself to you further, barely pulling out after each thrust, but doubling the force in which he thrusted.

The table scraped loudly against the floor, you whimpered and tried to quiet yourself, face heating as the room filled with squelching sounds that definitely didn’t leave anything to the imagination, should anyone overhear.

Already, you started to tighten around him again, your thighs quivered as you did your best to keep them apart. Judd noticed almost immediately, bringing his thumb down upon your puffy clit.

“C’mon pretty girl, cum for me again,” He panted and you followed suit, before you could cry out, though, he captured your lips with his own, chest pressed to yours.

You sobbed into his mouth as his tongue licked flames into you, clutching him to you. His thrusts became irregular, driving you into the table until he couldn’t hold out anymore. He moved to pull out, but you stopped him, keeping him pressed against you. “Don’t.. they’ll see— in-inside.” You panted into his mouth, and almost immediately felt a slush of warm liquid fill your lower belly.

Judd grit his teeth tightly, jaw fully clenching and breath heaving. His green eyes were dark and glazed, he straightened up a little, raising himself on his forearms to look down at you.

You were drooling slightly, makeup a bit smudged as you laid out on the table, revelling in the feeling of complete satisfaction and Judd’s cum filling you.

He waited a while to pull out, watching with interest as your tummy swelled ever so slightly from the combining force of his dick and his spend.

“You’re fucking horrible at being quiet,” He eventually stated.

You puffed out your cheeks, sitting up and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “It wasn’t me who made the table move,” you countered.

Judd’s hands ventured up your back, holding you to him. “You whine like a bitch in heat,” He countered, monotonously, in the most endearing way he could possibly put it. Because honestly, he loved the sounds you made.

Maury clapped him on the back and barked something at him, reminding him that the two of you were indeed not alone and he pulled out of you. You sighed as he slipped out, feeling your combined liquids leak out a bit as well.

He was quick to pull his pants and boxers up, turning from you to fetch a roll of paper towels. As he always did, he insisted on cleaning up for you.

You had asked him about it once, getting the lame response of; “I like to keep my things clean.”

Fixing your skirt to cover yourself, you found that your panties were nowhere in sight and fixed Judd a look.

Your boyfriend shrugged. “This is your house, just get another pair.” You blew a raspberry at him. “I’m actually gonna run out of underwear because of you.”

He didn’t care, it was quite obvious, so you kissed his jaw and jumped from the table, to get yourself a new pair. Judd didn’t miss his chance to roughly squeeze your ass as you walked past him.

Nick awoke to a strange sound. The loudest being the scraping of something on the floor, then he heard you cry, loud and continually as though you were in pain.

Immediately he sat up. The room was dark and the tv static, he drowsily looked around, his four friends sleeping soundly on the couch. Andrew moved his foot, coincidentally pinning Nick down with it. Groggily, he sighed and pushed Andrew off him.

He swayed a bit as he stood up, rubbing his eyes to get the sleep out of them. His brother and you weren’t anywhere to be seen, the spot where you previously was sitting now occupied by Jessi, sleeping in a starfish position.

That was when he heard the sound again, the scraping and then the desperate gasping. This time, though, he heard his brother’s raspy voice as well. What the hell was going on?

‘Judd and Y/n are wrestling,’ Suddenly his temporary hormone monster, Tyler emerged from the kitchen with a disturbed look.

“What?” Nick was way too tired to process something like that.

‘They’re rolling around on the table! Like this!’ Tyler got on top of the coffee table, and started intimidating something that definitely did not look like wrestling.

Tyler noticed Nick’s confused expression. ‘Yeah! And she keeps crying and saying his name— like, like this!’ The monster proceeded to do an utmost terrible impression of you calling for Judd and Nick cringed. ‘— and then, Judd told her to shut up and called her a slut! I think he’s gonna get her in a chokehold. I wouldn’t put my money on Y/n, though, she’s not even trying to fight him off—‘

“— Yeah, I don’t think they’re wrestling, Tyler.” Nick deadpanned, cutting the deity short. He felt his face grow increasingly red, as your sounds grew. Now, even he could hear you beg Judd for all sorts of lewd things.

‘Oh.’ Tyler blinked a couple of times. Nick shivered, he definitely did not need to hear his brother bone his girlfriend (on whom he had a crush) or explain the situation to his hormone monster.

The two of them remained in uncomfortable silence for a while, Nick pacing back and forth to clear his head of any inappropriate thoughts that Tyler was coaxing him into, once he had figured out the situation.

Eventually, Nick settled on waking Andrew.

“Andrew,” He pushed his friend and whispered again. “C’mon, wake up, Andrew,”

The latter mumbled something incoherent, adjusting his glasses in his sleep. Nick groaned and shook him, not relenting. “I never peed in that pool!” Andrew woke up shouting, and Nick tumbled back in surprise.

“What?” Nick hissed. Andrew looked about wide eyed, seemingly as groggy as Nick. “I— what?” Andrew repeated. He blinked at his friend slowly, not yet aware of the circumstances.

He pulled Andrew from the couch, and put a hand over his mouth. “Listen,” He whispered, and watched as his friend's expression turned from annoyed, to confused, to very very startled.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god!” Andrew stammered. Nick removed his hand. “Is that— are they?” His head snapped from Nick to the kitchen entrance and back again.

The shorter nodded once, stiffly. “What do we— do we do anything? We could go back to sleep before Judd— oh god, what if they find out we heard?”

Nick turned to his panicking friend, determination clear in his eyes. “We need to go see for ourselves.”

Andrew’s eyes grew impossibly larger, to the size of sorcerers. “What? No! No, no, normally I come up with those kinda terrible ideas— are you okay, Nick?” He put a clammy hand to Nick’s forehead, fauxingly checking his temperature.

Nick clicked his tongue, annoyed, and waved his friend’s hands away. “Think, Andrew! You have a crush on Y/n, I have a crush on Y/n, haven't you imagined her like that a lot of times, anyway? We can just look, really quickly,”

“Uuhh, I— I don’t know,” He stammered, eyes flicking to the kitchen door.

Nick sighed. “I’m going to go look.” His statement was final, as he marched off. Andrew wrung his hands, definitely not unaware of his own desire to see what his two designated babysitters were up to, and his legs seemed to follow after Nick all by themselves.

The two stopped by the door, neither daring to actually peek inside yet.

“Judd, m’so full,”

Both boys stiffened at the sound of your voice, breathy and begging and definitely not how you usually spoke to them.

Then, Judd grunted; “You gotta be quiet, baby.” Followed up by a harsh command of; “Spread your legs.”

Nick swallowed, and Tyler pushed him further towards the door, squealing at him to look. Suddenly, his previous courage had completely disintegrated and he looked at Andrew, panicked.

The other was just as alarmed, sweat beating his forehead as the scraping sounds picked up and they realised the weight of the situation.

They stood there for a while, completely perplexed, having been so scared off by your vulgar statements that neither dared to move. Andrew shut his eyes tightly, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he heard Maury in the room as well. He was barking orders at Judd, all of which went completely ignored, and cheering the two of you on.

Then, after what felt like aeons, the noise quieted down and the two preteens listened as you had a quiet conversation. Judd was way less mean, when he talked to you in private, they both noted. Only when you went off to get another pair of briefs, did they realise their mistake. But it was too late for them to move, instead they both stood there with rapidly beating hearts, faces bathed in red with sheepish expressions as you exited the room.

You stuck your head out the entrance first, yelling in surprise when you caught sight of the two boys. “Oh my god.” You breathed, then realising that they probably heard most of what just went on.

Caught red handed, you couldn’t bear to look neither of them in the eyes. You straightened, quickly walking past them and holding your skirt tightly around your bottom.

Levelling your voice the best you could, you called to them over your shoulder; “Judd’s in the kitchen, if you need anything,” You squeaked, bounding upstairs to your room before they could properly take in your dishevelled appearance.

Nick panicked, now they had to go in the kitchen, or suspicion would surely arise. He grabbed onto Andrew’s sleeve, willing his legs to move and take the final few steps into the kitchen.

Into the dragon's den, where Judd, the dragon resided.

“H-hi. Judd.” Nick stammered. Judd had his back to them, raiding the fridge for anything to drink. You had only stocked up on diet sodas.

The older teen acknowledged them with a grunt, not bothering to turn before his drink-mission was complete. The two boys stood awkwardly in the middle of your kitchen, waiting for whatever reign of terror Judd would have prepared for them; but none came.

Judd slammed the fridge door shut, and to their total surprise, threw each boy a Diet Coke. “Need anything else?” He drawled, sauntering to the table and slumping down in a chair. He opened a coke for himself and got comfortable in his chair, downing almost the entire can in one go.

Andrew and Nick shared a glance, and simultaneously inched towards the table. The two of them sat down quietly, still waiting for Judd to scare them away.

But he was completely out of character, for once, he looked kinda relaxed. Albeit a bit sweaty and tousled, but as calm as Nick had ever seen his older brother. His eyes lingered on Judd’s neck, where he bore a collection of teeth indents, smudges from your lipstick and hickeys.

The three sat in silence for a bit, listening as the light under the cabinets buzzed and eventually Judd got up to fetch another soda.

“You want any more?” He asked the two, and they politely declined. He shrugged and returned to the table with a new can.

Nick fiddled with the top of his can, eyes flitting around the room nervously. “Judd. Can I ask you a question?” He dared not look up as he spoke, keeping his eyes planted on the table.

Judd grunted, his way of saying ‘go ahead.’

“Why are you being so nice to us?” The question visibly caught Judd a bit off guard, he stopped drinking for a brief moment, thinking the question over before his stoic exterior returned.

“Y/n wants me to be nice to you. She likes you small assholes,” He shrugged.

Andrew looked at the older bewildered. “Y/n told you to be nice to us?” He asked, voice cracking as if he couldn’t believe his own ears.

Judd frowned. “That’s what I said, wasn’t it?” He snapped.

Andrew swallowed thickly. “Y-yeah. Sorry,”

“But— I mean, why? She’s not even here, and, you usually don’t listen to anyone,” Nick was unrelenting, now past the point of caring if Judd would beat him up for asking questions.

A pregnant pause wove through the room, as Judd thought about the question. He still looked considerably less angry than usual, but his features were set in a frown and his brows drew together and made it look like he was planning something sinister.

“I do what she says because I love her.” He said eventually, glaring off into space as he thought his answer over.

Neither of the two boys could believe their ears. The Judd Birch had just declared his love publicly. It must have been the post-nut clarity.

When they failed to respond, he continued on; “Sometimes you gotta do dumb shit, even if it’s fucking annoying, to keep a girl.” He mumbled, still deep in thought. Had the situation been different, Nick would have found it quite funny to hear Judd talk about such tender things in his gruff voice.

Andrew leaned over the table, adjusting his glasses. “Is— Is that how you get a girlfriend?”

At that, the corners of Judd’s lips moved upwards ever so slightly. He turned fully to them, a wicked look in his eyes. “That’s how you get laid, numbnuts.”

Then Nick cut in; “But what after? What if I like this girl, and I really wanna touch her boobs, but I also want to talk to her. I mean just talk. Because she’s smart, and funny, and really nice,”

Judd dug through his back pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and opened the window on the wall behind him. He stuck one between his lips, and offered the pack up to the boys.

“We’re twelve.”

Judd merely shrugged and lit his own cigarette. “If you wanna touch her tits, you gotta talk to her first. And don’t be a little creep. Charm her and shit,” He explained.

Nick deadpanned. “Charm her?” Judd was everything but charming. It would forever remain the greatest mystery to him, how his brother managed to pull any girls at all.

Andrew pushed up his glasses. “Actually, what Judd is saying is true. You need to make her feel as if you care about her—“

“—I do care about her!” Nick protested.

Judd flicked a bit of his cigarette off over the window still. “Then it’s easy. Just talk to her, pussy.” He inhaled a long drag. “If she’s into small pricks, you’ll be just her type.”

The younger pouted. “Not funny, Judd.”

Judd cackled, lowly, sinisterly. “Then, how do you know if a girl likes you?” Andrew asked.

“She lets you touch her tits.”

Nick sighed. “C’mon, Judd! There has to be more to it— I mean, you have a girlfriend, so you obviously know.”

The eldest grunted and exhaled smoke through his nose. He thought for a bit before replying; “I was at a party, and I saw this girl, Y/n, and she was really fucking hot. Is really fucking hot,” He fixed the two middle schoolers a pointed look. “So I talked to her, turns out she’s really fucking sweet too. And when you meet a girl like that, all the rest comes naturally,” He finished his explanation, a bit smug as the two boys looked at him in wonder.

“Not to offend, b—but haven’t you dated lots of girls? How’d you do that?” Andrew asked.

Judd put his cigarette out in his, now empty, coke can. “Sure I have. You can also just fuck girls, but it’s a lot more fun if you like them,” He said.

“How do I do that, then? Do I have to talk to her too, even if I don’t like her?” Andrew was a bit eager now, but Nick had to admit that he was also itching for answers.

“No matter what, you gotta talk to her. Maybe not for long, and if you just wanna fuck, you have to say the right things,” He said, and then quickly added. “But don’t do that. I don’t want you two turning into little dicks,”

“Then.. What if you’re already friends with her?” It was a bit of a jump in topic, but Nick had to get answers, and right now was probably the only time he had the opportunity to ask.

Judd snorted. “You want to fuck one of your friends out there?” He cackled, motioning to the living room.

Nick turned red very quickly. “No.”

“Fuck, you’re a little simp!” The eldest was finding Nick’s personal troubles a little too funny, and he huffed, glaring at his brother. “But all the rules still apply. Be charming, talk to her, and don’t be a creep.” Judd eventually added, nodding at his brother.

“Thank you, Judd.” Nick muttered, and he meant it.

“Yeah, thank you, Judd,” Andrew echoed.

Judd grunted. “Yeah, whatever. But don’t, ever, spy on me and Y/n again. I mean it. Or I will gut both of you like fucking fish.”

Hi, hello,, thank you of making it this far!

Originally, I wanted to label this “16+ do not interact if you’re younger” but honestly I ate shit like this tf UP when I was 13 💀 idk if I made Judd a little too OOC, sorry big mouth writers ☹️✋ I hope you enjoyed, though

Small rant + update; tumblr has been acting up on my phone lately, idk what I did to make it so laggy lately, but I have to post from my computer now ),: ALSO I’m so mad I keep forgetting that the cursive I make in Google docs doesn’t work in tumblr ahhhhHHHH so I had to go over the whole thing again, I’m pressed

And anyways, I’ve been working on a really big project for a while now, it is literally my baby, and it’s a Loki x reader because I finally watched some marvel movies lol, I’ll wait with posting it till it’s completely done bc rn it’s kinda a mess (and not nearly done) but if anyone would be interested in beta reading the first 5 chapters please don’t hesitate reaching out to me!

You are wonderful! Thank you for reading <3

Request something? HERE!

Tags? @dlfvrr (this was the only instance I could find of someone wanting to be tagged in my Judd stuff, please reply to this if you do want to be tagged)

#big mouth #judd birch x reader #judd birch #judd bitch fr #judd birch smut #i hope this is okay #hormone monster #I love Judd #mental illness awareness #author needs sleep

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victoriansnakearts · 14 days ago

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Finally got some art to post! Here’s a redesign of Moxxie and Millie! I’ll share my thoughts below!

So honestly I think moxxie and Millie have pretty good designs! I think most of the imps are well designed, my only complaint is that they have way too similar shades of red and black and sometimes have too many little details.

So for my designs I tried to focus on shape language, I made moxxie rounder to show that he’s a more friendly and approachable and Millie more boxy to give a more clear idea that she’s the muscle of the group.

I used different shades of red just so it’s easier to read whos who’s who when the characters get clumped together (the black and red in the original designs sometimes makes it really hard to tell)

I gave Millie and more southern look to reflect her wrath roots, I don’t really like the goth scene look she has in the show. Also I took away the eyelashes (I’m sorry they just don’t fit her and she looks like she can fly away with each blink 😭) and gave her a few scars

Moxxie will still be from greed but I’m gonna remove the mafia plot from his story ( it’s doesn’t seem too important to the main plot anyways and we have enough daddy issues)

I’d imagine he just an odd imp who’s more timid and happens to have a knack for shooting.

People are probably not gonna like this but if ever rewrite helluva, I don’t think moxxie and Millie would be married at least not right away.

I would think hell doesn’t really do marriage considering it’s more of a Christian thing anyways. I think it would be a cute idea if they learned about marriage from the living world and thought it would be fun to do lol. Ill probably make a separate post for my ideas for hellborns and the hellscape but I’ll save that for another time

Sorry for the ramble but if you guys have thoughts or criticism feel free to comment or send any asks!

#helluva boss critical #helluva thoughts #tumblr ramble #redesigns #asks open #helluvaboss redesign #imps #moxxie and millie

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deadbeat-motel · 8 months ago

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ᕼᑌᔕK ᗩᑎᗪ ᑎIᖴᖴTY ᖇEᗪEᔕIGᑎ

Deadbeat father with his baby-leashed daughter.

I believe these are the last of the designs that will try to follow the original design as best as it can because looking at my sketches right now, Alastor, Cherri Bomb, and Pentious (and Crymini) goes a different direction than their counterparts.

You know how this works, thoughts below:

My issues with their Original designs:

Niffty:

Man, I only have two things to critique about this one since she's also a solid design:

What is the purpose of the scarf? It comes out of nowhere for the design, what is the connection/purpose of having it? Genuinely asking since it does bother me a bit.

She barely is a bug, there is no feature in the design that gives us any idea that she might be a bug (Or even an alien since apparently Cyclops are just a normal sinner type in this hell). Looking at the Wiki, I think the only reason for the alien aspect is that it came from a song? Either way, she doesn't showcase any of either in her design.

Husk:

GOD THE WINGS. DEAR GOD THE WINGS. IT'S SO UGLY AND CLUTTERED AND THE PATTERNS BARELY MAKE ANY SENSE. It's so awful ewwww. Every scene that didn't have them closed looked extremely rushed and ugly. It could've benefitted from just copying how actual feathered wing patterns naturally are.

His eyebrows are not a problem for me (It's my favourite part of him) but the unnecessary two black stripes are.

He's probably supposed to be a tuxedo cat, but he legitamately looks like the cat in the hat with his entire face being white.

The thought process for these two:

Niffty:

Personally was not into the whole Cyclops thing, especially when there are no hellborns (that I can recall at least) in Helluva Boss that posess a singular eye. She's got 2 eyes now because.... reasons.

The mismatched eyes was my solution to removing the Cyclops sinners of this world. Plus it's a neat little character detail that her insecurity of some kind of eye defect manifests as this odd eye shape.

Her hair is a bit neater because as much as I enjoyed how her original hair looks, It's kind of silly to think a person who's obsessed with cleanliness would have such an unkempt haircut? (Specifically talking about that scene kid-esque bangs she has.)

While I kept the maid aspect with her clothes, I made it a lot more flowery so that it reads more like a child's outfit mimicing a maid's.

I gave her one fucked up antennae since in the rewrite ill be doing, she's very easily lost and thus became homeless, drifting to any place that would allow her to stay for a little while long until they kick her out.

Bug wings and the spurs on her arms and legs are just to sell the bug aspect a bit more.

Hopefully, it was clear enough. But her arms are made of two arms conjoined together to create a singular arm.

Admittedly, I did not choose a specific bug for Niffty. Insects are not something I'm interested in and I got lazy with this aspect.

Husk:

MADE HIM A LOT FATTER AHAHAHAHHA. Husk feels like he could've ended up as a bara if Vivzie's twinkif-y ray didn't hit him.

Specific fluff areas as well as a red mustache make him look older and do more to make you understand he's much more aged than the rest of the cast.

Genuinely enjoyed the hair that they gave Husk in his flashback, it looked handsome on him. Why Vivzie didn't put that in his actual redesign is beyond me, but here it is on him now

Since his wings barely play any role in the story, I shrunk it and de-cluttered the poor thing.

The red suspenders are there to simply put a pop of color on his already muted colors.

Despite the running joke that Vivzie's characters all have a bowtie, kept it on Husk since I think it would be cute that he probably keeps it on because Niffty made it herself for him.

This is just personal, but I wanted to give him an actual cat's pattern because I saw Husk from the headcanon voices video and thought that he was a sloth for some reason.

#deadbeat motel redesign #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel redesign #deadbeat motel niffty #deadbeat motel husk #hazbin hotel critical #vivziepop critical

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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year ago

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PART 2 - Genshin Impact SAGAU / Isekai: Gifts to Give Your Allogene!

ELEMENTS HERE: Dendro, Hydro, Cryo, Geo

Part 1 / Part 2 (you're here!)

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them only)

Planet: General SAGAU / Isekai Stuff, Platonic Cuteness

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, a couple sentences for each

Stars: a little bit of everybody as of Baizhu/Kaveh update! including rare beloveds like Aloy! (I hope I got them all… at least the playable ones… ) Please understand that some characters are more “foreground” characters and have more screen time so I may have written some more for them because I knew them better!

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: weapons for gifts?? 16+ Older Teen Audiences Advised, light cussing

☆

& Trigger Warnings: None Known.

☆

Edit 1/1/24: Hey I expanded on this in my Eldritch Fanfic Post Part 2, but I just wanted to vet the old posts and say I did do a form of exoticism by including the word "Huangdi" throughout this.

I've since replaced it for better readability with "Emperor" but I didn't want to erase my mistake like it never happened. I'm genuinely sorry about this, I never had ill intentions by including it, but regadless of intentions that's the impact of my actions. I'm absolutely going to be looking out for kind of thing in the future/get a sensitivity reader/a beta read from that culture to check me.

I hope you still enjoy my writing and can understand.

Dendro Allogenes:

Tighnari = with some help again to put magic into it, you give Tighnari some head coverings you sewed together that have the power of Cryo in them! So now he can actually see what plants are out in the desert, visit Cyno, or just enter the desert to his heart’s content, which, yes, his tail started unconsciously wagging after you explained what it was. “Oh! For me? Well I’ve taken to avoiding the desert if I can because of… wait a minute, you say it has cryo in it? What? How does that work?? You think it’ll genuinely help me in the desert?? You made it???” Tighnari’s ears are all twitching with excitement, and he’s holding the covering (that matches his clothes/dark green) like it’s a new plant for study, omg he pulled out his magnifying glass and everything-

Collei = so she’s actually a really good seamstress, and makes plushies a lot, esp for kids! but one day you found one of her first attempts, a ragged looking sort of pale pink bunny… her first attempt at a plushie Baron Bunny!! so you decided to mimic her design (still baron bunny but with a sort of Sumeru-like clothing on it), and sew her one! You made a whole day of it, eating together, going to the best spots to sightsee (for as long as Collei was up for it/not too tired) and then gifted her the plushie Baron Bunny! She accidentally let out a small scream that startled both of you tbh, and then snatched that shit so quick lmao, kicking her feet on the picnic blanket and everything! With your permission of course, Collei then tackled you for a hug lol, she ranted about all the little details and made you tell her several times over how you made it so she could make some more in the future too! She may or may not have talked about missing Amber and teared up… but then you redirected her attention to the bunny saying, it’s like a gift from Amber and you really! (you also added a function where, if you squeeze the Baron, it’ll dish out some healing power and some heat! …Collei tackle hugged you twice for that one)

Alhaitham = what a hard person to get gifts for, he’d probably be like “thanks” no matter what you got him 😭, he means it tho, it would just be underwhelming… but on the bright side, he definitely seems like he’d show a deeper appreciation for handmade gifts! Since you learned how to make one for Yoimiya, you decide this calls for another handmade hammock (also bc Teyvat doesnt have hammocks)! You painted symbols like green crystals and geometric patterns, but also lions and a golden Palace of Alcazarzaray for Kaveh, and your symbol, the eight point star (like the four point but with flare/not like the jewish symbol with equal points lol)!! So that way he can keep lazing away, and avoid people more comfortably lmao, and also if he is going to do that, he doesnt have to sit on rocks or hard structures for hours reading, and you hope it’s encouragement for him to spend time outside/take a break and nap! (Haitham knows that’s part of why you gave him this, even if you didn’t say it, and so he makes a point to do that more often to make you happy, take the advice for his health) oh look, after thoroughly looking at your craftsmanship for 10 minutes, you got a smile in addition to a “thanks”, damn, that’s actually how you know he likes it a lot <3 :)

Nahida = you remember vaguely from Nahida’s storylines/friendship levels that she loves games, and so you collect her a nice deck for Genius Invokation TCG! You also made her a cute bag and container for it, her bag is a rose maple moth crocheted bc really this was an excuse to just make the cutest character in Sumeru look even cuter, (like this, i tried very hard ok, bc this doesnt exist yet, im shocked) The first image is most correct, (imagine the face and stuff is cuter/simpler) as that’s also the backpack part! Her eyes were so big when you handed it to her, (you honestly were shocked they even could get any bigger lol). She jumped up and down excitedly with the backpack on (ur fucking heart, just like you intended, the wings flapped around and everything <333) you are also currently working on a luna moth (the pale green moth) in case she wants it to match her outfit more! even tho Nahida insists something handmade once is enough, you can see the childish yearning in her eyes, like a kid trying to say no to a toy that’s being offered right in front of them lmao

Kaveh = pretty girls deserve pretty things, and you were definitely feeling the pressure to make something high quality enough for Kaveh, tho u know he’s sweet enough that he’d appreciate anything you’d take the time to handmake (and tbh.. it sounds a little arrogant, but ur hoping something so cared for by what he, or at least most people see as some kind of all-powerful god above the archons, will boost his self-esteem/confidence in his own worth more, or at least let him know one more person cares about him…) so you didnt make it super detailed, and you put a note on it too to let him know your not as great at that as he would be, but you made a model of the part of the teapot house you’re going to design for him! Like a sort of sneakpeak, you made a small lookalike of Alhaitham and his house, but filled it with decor like if Howl didnt hoard all the cool shit in his room in Howl’s Moving Castle, but instead spread it out, and sort of used your modern taste for layout, (not the ugly ass corporate aesthetic) and a small garden. You also made nearly all the decor and stuff something interesting (like some primogem strings, they can be pretty small, for string lights, lampgrass from Mondstadt that he’s never seen etc.) and while you very shyly handed him the model at first, he was practically vibrating with excitement!! “You made this?! Oh of course I don’t expect perfection, it looks wonderful so far, especially if this was your first attempt!!” Kaveh has like sat down, and is delicately holding it and looking around, and when you tell him it’s an actual space, meant for him, he gently sets down the model and grabs you by the shoulders, “Show. Me. Now. …please?” looking at you with very determined puppy dog eyes lol

Yaoyao = …idk what you expected. It was so obvious. A crocheted bunny backpack. brown, so it matches her, since her basket was brown, or you could leave off the feet, whichever u prefer, and anyway, Yaoyao is always doing things for others, so the little girl was so cute and pink when you actually gave her something instead! (once again, using ur old trick of making the person think u need something then shocking them with a handmade gift instead hehe) She IMMEDIATELY switched it out for her basket and has pretty much converted to using it full time! (tho when she needs the more solid one she’ll still wear it, she just alternates, esp if there’s some occasion she’ll deffo wear the bunny backpack, it’s her “fancy god-made bunny backpack!”)

Baizhu = the doctor isn’t one to talk about himself a lot, so you weren’t sure what he would like other than some new tea… but you wanted to make it yourself so while you were a little disappointed it was just a basic pet gift, you wanted to maybe put a little extra into it so maybe Changsheng will use it and Baizhu will think it’s cute! You crocheted a little pet pod/cave for her to hang out in (imagine this but a Jueyun Chili hehe) and it also has a little crocheted vine rope so the little Jueyun Chili cave can be hung from things, or even tied onto Baizhu’s apron/hold it like a purse! That way Changsheng doesn’t always have to drape across his shoulders/has somewhere to retreat! When you shyly showed Baizhu and Changsheng, he literally clapped, so did Qiqi lol (he usually does those tiny smiles… but this one was the brightest most genuine you’ve ever seen, even in game…!!) You find that Baizhu’s eyes look like that type of person’s eyes were they just look like “happy”, like there’s a little fond sparkle in his eye. Changsheng was all like “about time I got something instead of him! I’m basically an assistant too y’know! …thank you very much, my Emperor.” (if you’re NOT squimish of snake pics, pls look at this cute smile Changsheng would give)

Hydro Allogenes:

Barbara = …so even Barbara was a little hesitant at first, but came around to the idea after some convincing, and some encouragement (and showing her she was capable of it) but you basically ….may ….or may not have… found a loop hole for her being a catalyst? So, thru a lot of persuading Barbara to train with you and Childe (who also thought it was amusing to see such a young girl who’s literally a nun and a singer do this) you got Barbara to make water bombs! Like her circle of notes that float around her when healing, she sings and gestures and similar to her ult, (but like Childe’s E-skill it just switches between the two), the notes fly out and explode in the direction she sings/aims! You wanted to remind her of her old dream of being recognized, and wanting to help in battle in a more combat way, and besides, you’re sick of women getting regulated to the healing magical role in games/anime fantasy, so yeah. You and Childe are literally evilly giggling to each other in the background as Barbara sends quater notes and lines of music that explode (like how water can sharpen and cut things like Childe’s blades? Yeah he taught her that) so intensely that it cuts into the Pyro Lawlachurl, bringing it to its knees- Barbara accidentally cuts its head off as the finishing blow. While she gasps in a little fear, but mostly shock, Childe jumps up and down and starts cheering.

Mona = got sparkly eyes, nearly snatched the gift out of your hand, you made her some awesome earrings from the character banner wishes! All pretty ombre pink and blue they swirl and look so pretty framing Mona’s face, she only wears them on special occasions despite your claim of everyday use, they also help her figure out where the clearest view of the night sky each night but glowing brighter and brighter when she gets closer to seeing clearly, Mona is almost? weirdly envious?? for her past self that had to suffer thru all the inconvenient cloudy nights lmao

Childe = like anon said, a new pair of knit gloves, using the fur from the snow king boar! he’s amazed they never wear out now, and he totally uses them as an excuse to hold your hands all like “I just can’t get over how soft they are, feel them, you did amazing comrade! even better than some Snezhnayan shops!!”, exactly what you expect he’s leaning into your face and everything- 🙄

Xingqiu = an ao3 account you had a hard time with Xingqiu’s, afterall, he’s from a wealthier family, so he can get mostly what he wants, and you don’t wanna just get him another book… so you kidnapped him to Inazuma! (idk if this is canon, or happened in an event or smth I missed idfc) So, you also kidnapped Albedo for this trip, so that Xingqiu could actually see the impact his writing made overseas! While you intended for this trip to make Xingqiu feel better abt his writing, (and to help Albedo feel appreciated too, despite him not expressing much low self-esteem in his art, compliments heaped upon him def cant hurt, plus u can see him go pink too hehe) you also wanted to surprise him with a author book signing! If he was up for it, of course, which he “I absolutely, definitely, certainly am, my liege!” Kid’s practically hopping in place, as you get him all ready for his book signing (and not rlly Albedo bc he’s always fucking perfect, u dont have to do shit, even his messy hair looks nice 💀) …you also may or may not have given him some hair decorations (to help his asymmetrical cutting, not that it looks super bad, but for a change at least)

Yelan = …it’s official. You are intimidated. It’s only pretty hydro women and Ayato from here on, on your “Gift List”. Needless to say, like a few other allogenes, you wouldn’t know shit about this woman if you didn’t read her lore… it’s not a fine replacement, you don’t think, but with (lots of almond tofu, and osmanthus wine too) dev access to help you, you created another bracelet for Yelan. Inscribed (just like the heirlooms) inside simply says “You Are Not Alone”, with your eight star symbol following after (like a four star but with some flare, and also not the Jewish star lol), it glows an otherwordly gold, a contrast to the bright blues of the other bracelet. Its function is a geo shield, to protect Yelan and any teammates nearby when it’s activated, she can also leave the shielded area in one spot, so she can do her e-skill and still protect people. You’d just casually asked her to meet up with you one day in that teahouse you know she runs for intel, and when you presented her the bracelet, she held it delicately, saying nothing as she examined it, reading the inside. A small smile tugged her lips up, and she slips it on as she sips her tea, “…Well, I’ll have to show this to present this one to the family shrine, I think this more than makes up for the heirloom I failed to keep. A replacement from the Guide of Teyvat themselves… Thank you, my Emperor, for this handwrought gift you bestow upon a mortal such as me. …and thank you, for not leaving me alone.” Yelan bows a little in her seat, sharp blue eyes more softened than you’ve ever seen her, trained on yours. Her hands are together in that same praying motion that gives you the weirdest sense of deja vu…

Kokomi = so you don’t know much about her, as the it seems the character lore for Kokomi you can remember was… lacking, to say the least. Hoyo definitely plays favorites, BUT YOU DON’T!! At least when it comes to gift givining so everyone feels appreciated, you got a pretty book (handmade or bought) and got it/made it kinda small, like the size of the book in her idle animation, bc turns out that’s her diary of sorts. You know the priestess feels if she expresses any opinions that her people will just take her side, or her word as… well, a divine priestess, the weight of her title you suppose. She also keeps track of how many spoons she has! Like what things drain her, and what things make her feel better (big social interactions vs. reading a war treaty book by herself for example) So you made her a bullet journal! (here’s one of my favorite bullet journal youtubers, here’s a flipthru of her completed journal) you didn’t fill out the whole thing, just some example pages, to show her the possibilites! …you were kinda worried bc she turned away at first after delicately accepting it, and since it was just you two, she allowed herself turn back around and start excitedly chatting your ear off as she leaned in- and wow. Kokomi’s eyes really are, dreamy, like cotton candy… and they’re so much prettier when she smiles…

Ayato = …you know exactly what to do. Interrupting his busy schedule (and only actually taking one day out of it actually bother him so he can have the others as a secret vacation hehe) to come over to the Kamisato household and homemake some boba drinks for him, Ayaka, and Thoma to try! Mostly Ayato tho, you got all the syrups, the milks teas, the boba, and luckily, were able to get some help from Xiangling in experimenting in making… popping pearls! (they’re edible boba pearls that are actually filled with juice/syrup flavors and burst on your tounge when you barely bite them! they’ve very sweet, and Inazuma definitely didn’t have any different pearls other than tapioca, those squishy black pearls you see in his regular boba tea) …Ayato is literally holding your hand like he’s about to drop to one knee, this man is down bad for boba (and you) and… are those tears?! Is he tearing up?! “I can’t believe… THE Akitsu Mikami… blessed me, personally, with boba?? With NEW boba teas and pearls I’ve never even seen?! …Thank you, my beloved emperor!” Mans has quite literally gotten on his knees, but bc he’s so tall, he can still comfortably hold both your hands in his bigger gloved ones …Thoma is desperately trying to get Ayato up, Ayaka is getting onto her brother in the background.

Candace = it’s not exactly a traditional gift… but the reason Candace doesn’t wear a lot of her jewelry or finery is because of the hard job she has as a Guardian/in the desert, so you figured giving her more things she can’t even really wear wasn’t the way to go.. So instead! You gather a journal or advice from Ningguang, Keqing, Yelan, Zhongli, and all the others in the Qixing who were willing to help you, and kidnapped Ganyu for a sight seeing trip! (since u and Ganyu has that whole “in between two very different worlds” bond) You brought Ganyu because you know if anybody would be good at managing something/getting it started (like the music fest back for Lantern Rite… that I missed bc I dont understand how lantern rite works 😭😭😭 VIOLENTLY SOBS ITS BEEN 2 YEARS AND I HAVENT GOTTEN A SINGLE LANTERN RITE U GUYS-) it would be Ganyu herself! …and to also give her a break. See Aaru Village suffered from little to no economy before Candace finally negoiated with the elders to let Sumeru merchants travel into town/buy from them/sell to them, but she’s had a rough time keeping the old coots from being dicks about it since, …and it’s also hard to convince the younger generations to come back after many wanted to see the outside world because of this… So what better what to solve two birds with one stone?? GANYU!! And all the economy and business advice you could gather form Liyue! You hope that the village flourishing (and helping Candace cut down on shady merchants) would impress the older generation, yet also get more money in the town so they can dress it up a bit more (like fixing unsteady bridges, also u kidnapped Kaveh to help revitalize their cultural architecture buildings back into life/or help make the simple buildings just prettier) Now Ganyu and her are besties (Candace rlly needed another friend besides just Dehya alone to come out and see her in the desert) and the adepti was very willing to come visit her and Aaru Village to help the economy maintain its footing/run smoothly, and Kaveh also comes and works on it/checks on her/the village! …When you initially showed all the plans to Candace, saying it’ll impress the old by bringing back old designs/architecture plus interest/satisfy the younger generations to know their hometown is advancing and make it more appealing to come back to… The Guardian puts her shield and spear off to the side, she lowers her head, and greets you, bc u kinda just started rambling without saying hello- whoops- , “Salaam aleikum Qore, **I have already become the first Guardian to have been blessed by the gods, to receive this Vision was the only aid I could turn to in trying to help my village, my community… but to be blessed once more? I would never have dared to dream, let alone the Ogdoad Qore… I am grateful on behalf of myself, my village, and all of King Deshret’s people. …truly, I did not expect a gods eyes to turn favorably upon us since my ancestors’ time. Thank you, my Qore.” You just give her a smile back, she taught you the return phrase, so you hope it’s appropiate, “Waaleikum us salam.” :)

Nilou = This woman is consumed by dancing, other than keeping the peace (well, within reason apparently bc she’s okay with a coup-) but you’ve heard how hard it can be on dancers, how plenty of them have to have strong muscles to perform consistently. So, using adepti magic, you’ve enchanted this minakari you’ve painted (a type of metalwork that’s then painted by artists, on Earth countries like Iran, India, Afghanistan, Pakistan make them) like the teapot! It’s a small island that has a dance studio, and more importantly, a spa with hot springs, a sauna, and a room full of medical supplies dancers would need like salves, heating/cooling pads (using pyro/cryo), and space for stretches! Overall, just a place for her to get away from all the people and to heal her body up for the next performance, and after getting it all prepped/packed up with supplies, and showing it to Nilou… she literally had her hands over her mouth the whole walk around the rooms and showing her everything. Nilou had already been shocked you’d painted her a minakari piece, let alone all this! Like some others, she was quick to drop the formalities, and before you could even say “I hope you like it!” she was wrapping her arms around you and squeezing as tight as she could, tearing up and saying how happy she was that someone understood how hard dance can be on the body and how hard it can also be to take care of yourself, and how she can’t possibly show her gratitude- wait a minute. She’s pulled back and gripping you by the shoulders, not even bothering to wipe her eyes, before she swears to give you a dance every year with all the culmination of her work as she learns and makes newer and better dances!! <3

Cryo Allogenes:

Kaeya = horses so he’s actually a calvary captain- you actually wanted something that’d emphasize the handmade part of the gift, to really let Kaeya know somebody out there really cares about him, cares about him in the way that they’ll sit down and think of an idea and think of him, and then work for hours, sewing, drawing, crafting something just for him, to happy about. You make him a small, pocket sized photobook, and have a picture of every person who cares about him in all the slots, and near the end, from his last birthday where you gathered everybody together to celebrate, is a photo of Jean, Klee, Albedo, Sucrose, Venti, Rosaria, Noelle, Amber, even Eula, Diona, Mika, Barbara, and Mona came! But most importantly, you got Diluc to host it at Angel’s Share, and after some convincing, got him to get in the picture, you’re slightly off center, sandwiched by Kaeya and Diluc, where Kaeya is mid-laugh at the center, having just seen Diluc’s embarrassed face. It’s the last one in the mini album, and each photo has an even small message at the bottom, giving Kaeya a message from everybody, just for him. At the very end, with the group photo just before, is one of yourself and him posing together, you having taken him out roaming Mondstadt for the perfect picnic spot, just to give an excuse why you wanted a picture with him. And at the time, he found it a little suspicious, but was just flustered enough he let it slide. But now, opening and unfolding this tiny album, full of smiling friends and caring words, Kaeya gives a small, watery chuckle, you’ve left him a message too. “Take care of yourself Kaeya, because someone out there really cares about you. :) “

Rosaria = After seeing her “nun” outfit, there’s no doubt in your mind that Rosaria is yearning for clothes closer to her preferred aesthetic. So, using your knowledge of punk clothes and modern goth religious aesthetics, you’ve made some pieces for her to try! Some black pumps with metal crosses for heels, yes they’re sharp and this nice shawl with beads, and finally, a nice lacy skirt (no you did not make fucking lace, jesus christ, you’re not a miracle worker, despite the belief of some teyvatians-). All of which, wow, got Rosaria to give you an honest to god… smile. A full, genuine smile from Rosaria… yeah that made all your hard work worth it.

Eula = a book on common manners so Eula is actually great at cooking! So what better chaos to gift to her other than introducing her to Xiangling! Especially since you’ve given the young Liyuean cook recipes from your own world for her to try out, she’s been on a rampage of new things, and so what better new experience than a cook from an entirely different country? You also made a small book of recipes (look up how to make a zine book on youtube it’s actually kinda easy) from your world, different from Xiangling’s because you thought Eula would like different recipes than her. …So needless to say you were then being berated by two chefs for not sharing all the recipes lmao, tho that really just gave them reason to share recipes! Also any new spinoffs Xiangling’s already made from the initial ones you gave her, and now Eula not only graciously thanks you for the recipes, but also her new pen pal! :)

Diona = So, to prep for this gift, you forced converted the Cat’s Tail to a non-alcoholic cat cafe during the daytime, and only in the evenings do they start serving alcohol/cats put up. You also got onto Margaret for hiring a child to make alcohol, so instead have Diona work better hours, and only during the cafe time, so she’s not making alcoholic drinks either. (you also checked in on child labor laws in Mondstadt, and ran some paperwork by Jean just in case) But most importantly, you teach Diona all kinds of new drink recipes to make, like Shirley Temples, smoothies, etc. You even (once again, by getting help from Xiangling and Diluc) made a drink for hangovers, but more importantly, helped her make one called “Sober Up” which magically flushes out the alcohol out of someone’s body, so Diona can finally sneak people a drink that (while still cursed to be well-made since Diona made it) is a trip to drink lol, it’s like a blast of carbonation/electricity to the system and will typically make most people very nauseous (but since magic’s doing it, they dont need to throw up, they’re just sick feeling for an hour depending on how much they drank). Diona nearly cried after she saw the effect on hungover customers, and immediately started sneaking them into her father’s drinks, so now he’s leaning more toward sobriety most days, and after finding out what Diona did, started to talk to his daughter more. The next time you see her, and ask after her father, she just wraps her little arms around your waist, the highest she can reach, you hug her back.

Chongyun = for prep for this gift, you painstakingly, slowly convince Chongyun to accept more and more moments of warmth, like trying some spicy food that’s gone cold, but just away from people so he can be silly out in the Liyuean mountains instead, and to try and use exposure therapy to try and get him used to yin energy/warm/excitable things, rather than the inefficient method of just avoiding it all (as it doesn’t always work/deprives him of so many nice things!! >:[ ). So that way! You can finally! Take him to have fun!!! You haul him (and Xingqiu bc the more the merrier) to go swimming in Luhua Pools, go jumping off all the peaks from one to another paragliding, using cryo to surf down waterfalls, and most importantly, go to a hot springs at the end of the day! Chongyun was worried about them being too hot and activating his yang energy, but you all agreed he had been training to get used to it, so now he when he goes to try it, he just relaxes into the heat. He could feel the tug to get out and run in circles and get excited, but finally, Chongyun could just choose to sit and relax into the warmth with friends instead :)

Ganyu = if I had a nickel for every woman In teyvat who just needs a break I’d be fucking rich …Obviously, a day off. But an ACTUAL day off, with work regulated to others, and unless there’s an Osial level incident 2.0 (fuck his wife, you put Shenhe on duty to protect Liyue just in case) NO ONE. IS. TO. DISTURB. GANYU’S. FIRST. VACATION. IN. DECADES. You get her to show you the prettiest viewing spots in Liyue, and as you go, tell stories from your life on Earth, showing her pictures on your phone (from both the internet and ur photos), to show her how mortal you are on one hand, but then how different you are here, upgrading her weapons and artifacts, and most importantly, her gift, a Teyvat modified cellphone! Albedo and you had been working together for months to try and make something close enough to connect ur two worlds, while introducing him to adeptal magic and other powerful objects like primogems and wishes that you have to help power it, that way the only other person who might understand immediately how it feels to be (literally lol) caught between two worlds can always rely on each other! …Ganyu cried. Yep, tears down her cheeks and everything, “…I- I- don’t even- even know what to say? All this, telling me about your mortal world, helping me get stronger, and now- now this? I may not have much to give in return, other than my company and my bow… but should you ever need me, or even wish for me, I will hold you as steady as I hold together Liyue itself, my Emperor." Ganyu’s smile is so, so, so pretty, and all the prettier now that her soft blue hair and sweet eyes are framed by the sunset, like it’s her own gift back to you.

Qiqi = A backpack for herbs! You’ve made sure to stitch her name into it so in case she forgets it’s hers, she’ll just see her name again, and lots of little pockets so she can carry all the herbs/make deliveries, it looks a little like this but with a goat instead of cow, and some cocouts lmao, literally a “coco-goat” milk backpack! She is now the cutest person in Liyue, everyone agrees, nearly every single person who comes into Bubu Pharmacy gives Qiqi a compliment now, and Baizhu will periodically take a break just so he and Changsheng can coo at her lmao (Qiqi made sure she wrote down in her notebook in big letters next to your name “This person made my cocogoat backpack, remember to thank them during prayer times, and collect lots of fresh herbs for them”)

Shenhe = It’s kind of a lot, but really, at this point, you’ve done more for some of the others so this probably isn’t even scratching the surface of how big of a gift you can give, so why not. Going full steam ahead, you furnish her a house at the edge of town, so that she’s not overwhelmed by all the human traffic/people, but still close enough to make the friends she wants! When you first show her the dining/living room so plenty of guests can come over, and begin to tour her through it, the strongest woman you’ve probably ever known gently holds your shoulders and stops you from speaking, and turns you to face her, Shenhe’s eyes are sharp with observation as they roam your face, and then settle on your own wide eyes. Her eyes soften, and a small smile warms her usual stern face, (idc how tall you are, she’s taller, I fucking promise) as she leans down a little to look at you closely in the eyes, “Thank you for being a kind god. You did not have to be so generous to me, and yet here you are. If you ever feel like you’re an outsider in Teyvat, in any country or company you find yourself in, please, promise me you’ll come here. Come home to me?” ✨💘✨

Ayaka = You manage to get her away from her duties to take her out to Sumeru! Mostly so you can introduce her to Nilou, see her performance, and the flourishing arts that now fill Sumeru City’s streets, and more importantly, a dress you made so she could dance with Nilou + dance on stage, she wasn’t confident enough/didn’t want to dance for a crowd, so it’s just you three or just you two after awhile. Ayaka looks the happiest she’s been in awhile, more so than you ever saw in game, and it’s… almost like a breath of fresh air to see her away from what you felt was such an isolating environment, even after the Vision Hunt Decree was over. For her last dance, Ayaka does so alone, a little after the sun has set, so it’s all blue, and the stars are coming out, finally, you get to see an even better version of the dance she gave the traveler that night. She only opens her eyes at the end, to give you the giddiest smile you’ve ever seen on her, cheeks cute and plumped up bc she’s smiling so hard, and bows to you (Ayaka’s thanked you a million times, but she doesn’t need to, you can feel how happy she is just from this)

Mika = THE BOY!! One of the most boys to ever boy in all of Teyvat!! Your boy!!! :D What a boy, he nearly fainted when you handed over his gift one day, and you had to reach out and steady him, then hand him it again 😭 It’s similar to the Marauder’s Map, since you enchanted it (once again, what’s the point of dev access if I can’t make gifts for my skrunklies?) and since you don’t want it to end up in bad hands/get spyed on, it only shows itself with a phrase as well “I wish upon a golden star, to know this land as well as its player.” and it’ll show him everyone in public spaces in Mondstadt, not private homes, but like the plaza, the church, the Knights of Favonius, etc. He thanks you every single time he sees you for the map, as it’s both fascinating to him to have a proper well-drawn map of the city of Mondstadt (you copied it from the Teyvat in game map, but there were some buildings missing bc they’re more real here/more fleshed out as a irl city) but that just made Mika even happier bc he can go and map them out!! Literally can’t talk to you bc all he’s saying is “T-TH-TH-THANK-THANK YOU ALL FURST-!!!” before running away most of the time lol

Layla = An embroidered tiny pillow for her to easily clip onto her bag/fit in it, and take on the go with her! (this but the text just says “Sweet Dreams Layla ♡” ) that you’ve also added scent to, including some sleep inducing magics, so she’s guarenteed to sleep well and efficiently when she uses it! She blushed so hard you thought she was sick at first when you gave it to her, and she also used the pillow as a shield to hide her face as she thanked you lmao, and she made you a pillow in return! …even if she thinks it’s not as good as yours, both craft wise and function, Layla worked for weeks on it! …lol now ur the one hiding ur face behind a pillow (this but they’re all plants of sumeru)

Aloy = …if you had a nickel for every person you’ve provided with a house, you’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird it happened twice… Poor damn heroine just got dragged from one world to the next, just as the last one finally was at peace, now she’s here in Teyvat, where nothing’s familiar, the entire world is set up different, people are nicer and more open here, and there’s still threats looming on its horizon. Needless to say, she is tired, and misses her own homeworld. You really wish on her behalf that Hoyo hadn’t done a crossover, but since she’s here, you figure you might as well make it easier on her. You’ve made another teapot-like adeptal magic container, so she can have a place all to herself, and given her a ticket to your own, afterall, if anybody knows what’s its like to get yanked to another world, specifically Teyvat, it’d be the travelers and yourself, and sure enough as time goes one, Aloy becomes closer with you all, and begins to finally feel a sense of familiarity, she wraps an arm around your shoulders the first time she saw you tried to make her own personal teapot place emulate her homeworld. The widest grin you’ve seen on her face, she gives you a squeeze, “It’s just been one adventure after the next, and when we started out, you were just another stranger in a world I didn't understand. But after everything we've been through, I can say this for certain: My bow is yours, now and always. Thank you for the second home, my king.” Aloy says teasingly, laughing at the face you make.

Geo Allogenes:

Noelle = goddamn when will the busy women trend END these poor souls Motherfucker, you’re gift to Noelle was to knight the damn girl yourself. No, but you nearly talked Jean’s ear off for an hour, after gathering evidence (both from eyewitnesses, and Noelle herself, including other knights and Jean herself) about why the literal fuck Noelle wasn’t a Knight of Favonius yet, and why she should be. After genuinely shaking Jean’s nerves a little, she agreed, and finally, Noelle was going to knighted along with any other potential recruits during the testing season, (as people with high reputations, which, once again, using your god status for all its worth, could recommend new recruits) but most importantly… You gave her a 5-star claymore, which, you do have to somewhat work on yourself physically in teyvat now, but your dev access lets you cheat a little (like the cooking meter on cooking dishes, you’re the goddamn cooking god when hosting guests hehe) so you also are allowed to edit it, like adding a Geo-bonus to the weapon itself! When the ceremony for knighthood was going, and pretty much all of Mondstadt came to finally see Noelle get knighted, you made a fun show of walking out where you were hiding and replacing Jean, to knight Noelle yourself. She’s gone completely red in the face, and is starting to sway a little in her down on one knee position, as you gently place the blade on both shoulders, and grin at her as you turn and pull out the claymore for her. She actually does end up falling over, pale as a ghost, whoops-

Albedo = internet access so he can become a fucking god basically the alchemist is a hard guy to make a gift for, another person you’re a little afraid high-quality handmade gifts would impress him more… so you worked hard, and eventually you managed to make three big notebooks for Albedo, one with lined paper, one bulleted, and one blank for sketches (you did the title page a decent sketch of his pretty face smiling and “For Albedo” underneath, and while that one had a picture, the other two had just the words) and you also loaned him your cellphone for awhile, and suggested the idea of a laptop to make for himself, as he already managed to get you connected to Earth’s internet again, that’s part of the reason you customized/made him notebooks, so he could research from the internet and write down any notes he wanted! …wow. you really did it. after explained all this, and leaving him notes about the laptop idea as loose paper stuck inside one of them, you managed… to get Albedo to… smile. At you. Like a FULL smile, pretty lips, wide smile, and flushed cheeks-!! Albedo caught the notebooks you almost dropped.

Ningguang = what do you get the woman that has everything? so you started to think of things that’d make an experience, and after remembering her lore about her making a chess game, you decided a board game would be good! And if you make the little pieces, it’d be one of a kind too! (she’s the type that really loves handmade gifts/as long as you put effort in it doesnt matter how “bad” it looks to her, she’ll believe it’s still good <3) …So you made a Teyvat version of Monopoly. You figured the business part would be in her realm of expertise, and maybe she could use it to play with business associates or friends, and of course, she’s a competitive woman, so she thinks it’s great, and even asked permission that a marketable version be made (one that’s not nearly as nice quality as hers from you obviously)! Ningguang also treated you very well as a thank you for making it for her, a nice dinner at Liuli Pavilion, with a useful gift of places you haven’t seen in Teyvat yet bc it’s more expansive now that you’re physically here!! You may have gotten over-excited about it… and she may have chuckled at you… and you may have gotten flustered after she rested her pretty hand on yours for nearly half the dinner as you stuttered thru and explanation of the game…

Zhongli = …what do you get the man that has everything (ningguang problem 2.0)?? Well, since you thought of something for her that was an experience a little bit, yet also one of a kind, you figured the same path for the previous God of Wealth/literally invented money/etc. would do, plus he’d the type to deeply appreciate handmade gifts too! Using a few chunks of Light Realm Core, 3 Masterless Starglitter, 1 Intertwined Fate, and 1 Condensed Resin, to make a nigh indestructible Ginko leaf hair pin, which also to replace his last pin, which while not broken, was getting old and beat up (he’s immortal he doesn’ notice these things unless they’re like magically long lasting items lol). But in a few spots are these peach beads like this instead of all white beads, like on the ring both have symbols of longevity, and are usally associated with immortals, you wanted to make something that’d also hold memories (hence the resin, from leylines) so if the erosion ever took him, Zhongli could hold the pin and see some of his favorite memories played back (like misty glittering gold projections)! When you told him all this, the materials, (he obv knew the symbols) and the intentions, and then handed him the gift, his soft smile got bigger and bigger, until you could see him small fangs (❤️‍🔥) and then he turned around? You were confused, until he look over his shoulder, his eyes flashing gold in the sunlight, “Will you do me the honor, my Emperor?” OH- you unclip his old geo cor lapis one, and pull his hair up into more of a low bun, and put the hair piece in. the golden ginko leaves chime softly in the breeze. The old god turns back to you (idc how tall you are, he’s taller, and he had to crouch a little so you could reach lol) and gives you that blinding, beautiful smile again, the kind that makes his eyes look warm and happy. He takes your hand delicately, like you’re made of something fragile instead of stars and magic stronger than any he’s ever seen, “Truly, you bless me too generously, my Emperor. Thank you, for caring for a forgotten god like me, for caring about my heart.” …Zhongli presses a soft chaste kiss to your knuckles, right on the middle finger’s knuckle, his lips are warm and so, so soft, like they’re barely even there. <3

Yunjin = a bit difficult because she’s so theater focused in life, but you figure since she does solo shows a lot, she’ll still be the one to benefit the most from your gift, you made some floating plaustrite lanterns to help heft some platforms for more stage space/cool effects! (this but a little more detail, you painted some bamboo and a few simple adepti on them) Like putting props up there or lights to aim on actors, or even actors themselves since the floating rock is steady enough! Yunjin practically squealed (which immediately made every actor in the vicintity be like “YUNJIN!! UR VOICE WILL GO HOARSE STOP-”) and gather the whole troupe to thank you! But she especially told you that although she already intended for you to have front row seats every time you came to see her plays, she especially wanted to get some stories from your life, or even just your favorites from Earth for her to perform for you!! (she even suggested that one of the platforms could be your special seat, like an opera box seat lol)

Itto = you know that belt buckle he wears that’s just an Oni head? Yeah, you made him a second belt but with a onikabuto beetle as the buckle instead! (kinda like this) but a small enough it’s not inconvenient and poking his stomach, which you definitely got a Inazuman blacksmith to help out, you mostly painted it, and when you show Itto the belt, mans literally just wraps his buff arms around you like a hug but then just starts spinning you rapidly, and lets out the highest pitch “EEEEEEEEEEE-!!!” you’ve ever heard him make (and you’ve given him a few trinkets before, so this is a new record wow). No, it doesn’t matter to Itto how much you weigh, have you seen his abs?! He says as he’s still got you a little off the ground, and is now walking away with your limp body and wearing his new belt, “This, and a proper meal to thank you are the bare minimum, my wonderful emperor! Come on, the gang’s already there anyway, you gotta try my Granny Oni’s food, and I’ll make something too! My best, most special, sandwich, Way of the Strong!! Y’know, because if anybody deserves it, it’d be the strongest, and sweetest, you!!”

Gorou = since teyvat isn’t exactly the pinnacle of advanced civilization, though there are some advancements sure like the Kamera, there are still a fair amount of things that’re just left up to locals to produce and make using whatever process they’ve got, regardless of efficiency, and one of those is soap. Yep, soap. Earth is more advanced when it comes to beauty products, but also hygiene products, and Gorou has a hard time maintaining his tail he’s said when he’s stressed/overworked. So, you used some knowledge from your interdimensional smartphone (love u Albedo) to find a homemade recipe to make soap! (…for dogs, but you don’t know if he’d find it offensive… so you don’t tell him LMAO) and you even made it a cute shape (just so when you handed it over, he’d open it and of course, go all red all the way down his neck even, hehe, (he secretly liked it)

You towards all of Teyvat, except it's not even their birthdays (idk if u want it to be it can)

☆

PLEASE LET KNOW IF ANY LINKS/PICS ARE INACCURATE FOR A CULTURE/MISLABELED ETC.

Me after writing all this: _」(´ཀ`」 ∠)__

… so I may have hyperfixated a little too hard on this one.

Did the OG asker want this? …probably not…

Did anyone ask for this?? …no.

…did I do it anyway….…yes.

…sorry?

(I promise I only thought to do this because there are so many characters left out in favor of the more popular ones for most SAGAU posts, and bc i never want any of my babes to feel any less loved than any others if I was actually there in Teyvat… you get… this mess.)

sorry!

☆

Safe Travels,

💀♒

☆MY BELOVEDS☆

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche

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slightlyhopefulromantic · 5 days ago

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after 500 years, im back to working on line-ups for the oxventure PCs for each campaign, this time the hobby horses :3 as with the oxventurers guild, i put a good amount of thought into this, though maybe not as much as the guild haha but regardless, i'll go into more detail under the cut for anybody curious :]

once again, they all have their own eye shines (or, in barnaby's case, are dead behind the eyes lol), though theyre simpler shapes this time. edvard gets stars, lilith gets a squiggle, kasimir gets a hooked shape, and zillah gets hearts.

edvard - i see him as just kind of. soft around the edges from his rich upbringing, but generally is on the thinner side, kind of rounding out in the middle. very Just A Guy with his build and body hair. i went with brown hair rather than black because otherwise, everyone besides lilith would have black hair and it was just to monotonous for me XD still, i tried to keep it dark and not too bright so it would fit the vibe. also, for some reason i thought his vest was floral until i started coloring this, but it totally is not in canon??? :') i liked it too much to not do a floral pattern anyways.

lilith - i really adore her canon outfit, i just get very confused about the layering of everything. so i tried to do distinctive color-blocked for her outfit, while also restricting her outfit's palette to just purples and teals/blue. i am so bad at drawing snakes. i am so so so bad at drawing snakes XD also, i decided to give everybody at least one tattoo because i just thought it would be fun and im taking advantage of the gritty setting. theyre all cool and tough so they have tattoos and totally not because i just love drawing tattoos lmaooo

kasimir - kas is not much of a leap from canon. i love kasimir's design. i just gave him plenty of tattoos under that massive jacket of his. based vaguely on johnny's tattoos, i did my best to reference their arms but ended up more going off of the vibe rather than copying anything specific. johnny's tattoos are simply too intricate and beautiful for me to do repeatedly djfgbdfhd and okay i say this constantly but my faaavorite kasimir design element is his whale belt buckle. its so cute. i love it

zillah - she was also easy for the same reason, i just adore zillah's design. its simple and very fitting. so i just gave her exactly what she has, but like lilith, i simplified the color palette. since my art style is much more cartoony than colin craker's, especially when i dont hatch or shade, restricting the colors makes the designs look cleaner. i almost forgot to color in zillah's hand wraps by the way and i literally put my hand over my mouth, i only caught it as i was typing this XD it was so needlessly over-dramatic

barnaby - i dont know fully how to explain it, but barnaby is definitely the design i am most pleased with. not because i think he has the best design here necessarily, but because hes just so perfectly what i picture in my head. with a lot of my designs, ill adjust small details based on my mood or i just won't fully be confident in my decisions, but with this design? thats just barnaby. chef's kiss. like edvard, i gave him brown hair instead of black for some diversity. i also kept his very thin hair and high forehead because it makes him so endearing to me <3 no five o'clock shadow though, he has to keep himself looking young

#oxventure #oxventure blades in the dark #edvard lumière #lilith cappellanaga #kasimir jones #zillah bruseau #barnaby fortescue iii #i cant believe i said 'ill finish these tomorrow' on my last post for these. oh my god.#its been over half a year and this took me 16 hours LMAO though i am a bit rusty w lineart and full color

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spdrvyn · 1 year ago

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reader (an average human) is the owner of spider cat (who does not know the cat has spider abilities) and accidentally enters a portal into 2099 only to get in trouble with miguel for trespassing and it escalates into a brawl of who knows the cat more (this goes on for weeks) and eventually is resolved by a date and co-parenting the fur baby like its their child SOBS (ill let u the name the cat whatever u want it to be tbh)

tooth and claw — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: you love your cat more than anything else in the whole world, the whole multiverse possibly. however, your limits are tested when you find out that he's been hiding a huge secret from you.

THIS FIC CONTAINS: silliness. fluff. lotsa romance. a grown ass man tussling with a little cat. gender neutral reader.

NOTES: i love this request so much!!! i fucking love cats yo!!! sorry for getting to this request so late, but i hope you enjoy it anyway!!!!! not proofread because it is LATE as i post this but ya 🙏 this was so much longer than it needed to be holy SHIT

Pawker was a good kitty. Most of the time.

He was polite to you, in his own special little ways. While being a complete, irrevocable asshole to literally anybody else that just so happens to cross paths with him.

But at the same time, that's what you enjoyed so much about being his owner. He was special, loyal to you and you only. All the affections, purring, soothing pets were reserved for just you.

He also doesn't weirdly abide by regular cat law, he enjoys being groomed. At least, by you. He enjoys taking baths if you're in the tub, whenever you have to give him a nice bath every once in a while he'll always be patiently sitting still and giving you the cutest look ever as if he's expecting you to get in with him. It made your heart melt.

That's not what most of your family would think anyway, you still remember the messages of unmistaken horror that practically sent your phone vibrating off of your desk when your mom sent you picture after picture of her arms littered with scratch marks after she tried giving your precious cat a bath.

Whenever you had people over, it would be a challenge. Pawker would normally stay in one spot that seemed always designated for him while he tried to jump anyone that walked by, or he'd hide under the couch and you'd always have to pry him out, soothing him by placing him on your lap and giving him scratches on his ear while repeatedly apologizing to whoever you were talking to.

You still loved him all the same.

You've built your whole lifestyle around him, your sleep schedule could now be compared to that of a literal vampire because of how often Pawker would run around your now shared bedroom, accidentally knocking things over in his wake.

One time, you had passed out on your bed after an exhausting night of typing your soul away on your laptop that you had mistakenly left open from how tired you were. Pawker got zoomies, and you were spending money on a new laptop the next morning.

This night was no different, maybe a little as you were up by choice. The only part that really hadn't changed was Pawker's frantic zooms across the room, over your bed, bouncing off of your feet at the end of it. It made you giggle at the sight, he was so cute.

Your thumb was working hard, scrolling endlessly through the never-ending posts popping up on your social media. Watching people you barely knew live sad, cat-less lives unlike you who was blessed with this spawn sent from above made you feel better about having Pawker in your life.

It also made you sleepy apparently, your eyes growing heavy from looking at a screen for a concerning amount of time. You fall asleep with your phone still in your clutches, light snores sneaking past your mouth while Pawker still remains as lively as ever.

Weird dreams were also a common occurence for you. This time, you were falling. From a really great height, you've been thrown off by some villain that you couldn't recognize that was in a fight with your city's vigilante, Spider-Cat.

Spider-Cat let out a drawn-out meow when it caught sight of you being thrown off of the skyscraper, running to you on it's tiny four legs before falling off itself to catch you. It reaches out an itty bitty and a web shoots out, attaching to your chest however it doesn't break your fall as you hit the street of New York City with a hard, resounding, bloody—

You jolt awake, in a pool of your own sweat. Eyes blown wide, like you actually met your own demise on that street in your dream. Rubbing your temples, you groan. It was still relatively early in the morning, you could get a peek of the sky brightening up from your window but there was no sun. Not yet. It was too fucking early for this.

You set aside your phone on your bedside drawer, grabbing hold of your blanket, and getting ready to pass out again until you hear it.

Loud meows ringing in your ears, those familiar loud meows that keep you up at night. With a sigh, you throw your covers to the side and get up from the bed. Opening your door, you walk into the living room of your apartment, and are met with an unexpected sight.

Pawker— your Pawker— in Spider-Cat's get-up. His attention seemed to be drawn on something that he was wearing on his wrist, a tiny little watch that had a small hologram talking to him?

What the fuck was going on exactly?

"Pawker?" He jumped in place, turning his head back to you. The lenses of his mask, combined with his mouth contorting into a more than guilty expression. You put your hands on your hips, looking him up and down like a father who caught his son with a hand in the cookie jar.

"What are you doing? What's that?" You continued to question the fluffy fiend as if he could grow the ability to speak at any given moment. He hid this from you for so long, so who knows? Maybe there were other abilities that you just didn't know about.

Step-by-step, you slowly approached Pawker. Ready to scoop him up into your arms and rip that watch off of his cutesy little paws, his ears move to what you're used to calling 'airplane ears', which means he's ready to fight you. Challenge accepted then.

Before you could even think of snatching him up, Pawker manages to somehow press a few buttons on that goober of his and it opens up–

A portal?!

A portal that he looks like he's about to jump through and he does, "Pawker, wait!" You yell out, but no. You're just met with a dizzying array of colors from the portal, and the miscellaneous items in your home floating all around you.

Where was your cat even going? You wanted to follow him so badly, see wherever this thing took you, but there's a chance that without that gadget he had on his wrist that it wasn't safe for you to do that at all. Maybe you'd lose Pawker forever at this point.

No, no. You were not going to lose your cat. Even if it meant hopping from portal to portal, from dystopian landscape to dystopian landscape to do so. You were going to get that fucking kitty back.

You jump in without a second thought, your only motivations were getting your vigilante feline back even if it's with a fight.

Your first impressions of traversing the multiverse were a lot more different than what you experienced in reality. Instead of ending up instantly in the dimension that Pawker had went to, you were flown straight into what appeared to be a tunnel?

You'd look around aimlessly as you continued to be surged through this strange pathway, a burst of pain shoots through every single part of your body, and it feels like you're dying and being resurrected all at the same time. It was madness.

There was so much going on, in the distance you could see webs strung together like they were all connecting somehow. Octagons it looked like you were flying through, but it all passes quickly once you're thrown once again into something.

Rubbing your head and groaning in pain, you try to reassemble your bearings and your thoughts after trying to piece together what the fuck just happened. As you looked around, taking around your surroundings even more. You sigh of relief when you're not completely swarmed by eye-bleeding colors, but rather met with the darkness of an empty hallway.

It's as empty as it can get anyway, there's tech literally everywhere. Some gadgets and gizmos a little too complicated and advanced for you to understand, it didn't help that you already had a searing migraine boiling to the surface because of what just happened for you to get here too.

To the best of your ability, you walked through the hallway, occasionally tripping over yourself from the absurd amount of tech junk that littered each tile that you walked on. You were probably going to kill whoever let it get this messy, your body had suffered enough in such a short amount of time, and you were still clad in your pajamas because why would you even think to change?

You had tripped over one final wire before ending up at— god, how could you even begin to describe what this place looked like? There were multiple brewing strands, different kinds of messes that you'd probably kill yourself to try cleaning, but the most eye-catching of all in this cave is the elevated platform in the middle of it all.

You'd inspect even further, maybe even try to climb the damn thing, but for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, you're caught off-guard when you feel something attach to your chest. You look down, red neon ropes stuck to your torso.

Of course, you were too caught up in your investigation to even notice the pair of red lenses peering at you in the darkness of this mad laboratory. You gasped as you were tugged harshly, way too harshly to the point where you were pulled onto your knees. Two more shots of that strange red rope were on your hands, effectively pinning you to the ground as you continued to struggle.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was not how your night was supposed to go!

Whoever attached these webs to you seem to walk out of the shadows, your eyes train on to each detail of this guy's suit. A Spider-Cat, Spider-Man? logo that looks so edgy that you'd mistake it for a skull, futuristic lights emenate a small glow and they decorate different parts of his suit.

He had broad shoulders, which made his waist look absolutely criminal. His wrist was held out and as he walked closer to you, you understood where that webbing was coming from now. He was also tall, impossibly tall as he towered over you while you were on your knees, presumably on the floor of his office.

Hello, sailor!

Your gaze trailed to his other hand, under the faint gleam of the monitors of the platform above, you swore you could see claws. It only convinced you to keep tugging at your bindings, otherwise you were going to get completely shredded to bits at this point.

Your heart bounced off of the walls of you ribcage, you could practically hear it in your ear. Loud, repetitive, rapid thumps as from the corner of your eye, you can see him getting closer and closer.

However, he stops. Just in front of you that you practically have to crane your neck up to get a good look at his face.

"You know them?" His voice is rough, gravelly, his claws retract and he puts a hand on his hip before turning his head sidewards and out from the darkness strides Pawker.

Your face brightens up at the sight of him, your pounding heart doesn't slow, but now it's for an entirely different reason as you relish in the familiar and fluffy feeling of Pawker rubbing and purring up against your restrained arms.

"Pawker!" You all but squeal, cooing at him especially as he begun making biscuits on the webs that stuck your hands to the ground. The noise makes the other, less important man in the room flinch and he puts his wrist down. Bringing his hand to rub his head.

Still, even once you were reunited with your cat. There were still a lot of unanswered questions, who was this man that he was just with? Was he a threat? Maybe Pawker is a supervillain rather than a crime-fighting vigilante and this guy is apart of the whole operation? Although, judging from the awfully snide face that Spider-Man carried even with the mask covering his face, it seemed he had his own suspicions towards you as well.

You were the first to break the silence, the assumption that you were your cat's owner had already been confirmed so it was safe to assume that he wasn't going to kill you. "What were you doing with my cat?" You tried to keep your tone level with his, but it was so hard. How could you when your pet was confiding with him?

Your question probably pissed him off from the way that a nearly silent groan slips past his lips, curses uttered under his breath. He kneels down before you, retracting his talons again, and cuts you free from the webs. A pang of relief crashes over you as you rub your wrists - still looking at him, eyes filled with curiosity.

He stands up once more, outstretching an arm to you. "Get up, you're going to have to pay a lot of attention to understand."

Once he was able to get you seated and able to get some sort of wristband on you, he had finally explained exactly what was going on. You understood a little more than half of what he was saying, one would assume that he was a scientist of some sort from the extremely fancy, almost pretentious choice of words he has.

Down to the basics though, his name was Miguel O'Hara. He was the leader of an elite strike force that apparently your cat was apart of, the same cat that you've grown to love over years of being and living with each other that would practically yodel for your attention after five fucking seconds of not getting pet.

You almost couldn't believe it, yet you were also so impressed. Who knew your little baby was a superhero?

After finishing the long-winded discussion, Miguel waited for you to ask your share of questions, and you had plenty. Some of them were miniscule, just idle queries that he begrudgingly answered - although one that you had in mind was Pawker's schedule.

He was a fat cat, there was no denying that. Constant check-ins with the vet, scheduled meals (you had no money for a fancy automatic feeder), and not to mention regular pet care stuff.

You were quickly dismissed by Miguel after a short amount of time though, something something anomalies something something. You weren't able to catch most of it. Again, fancy language and scientific terms you couldn't bother understanding.

Before you left, Miguel promised that he'd probably drop by your apartment sometime in the following week to discuss details on your cat. You didn't know whether to be excited or intimidated. But it was best that you pondered on that once you were done being sent back through the tunnels of multiverse travelling, which was less painful now that it was back to your dimension.

A few nights pass, almost too many nights, and you almost think that he's not gonna come. It'd make sense, he seemed very busy. Hell, that was the reason why you weren't able to stick around his 'spider-cave' any longer.

Soon enough and just as you're about to switch the kitchen lights off, the scattered papers and calendar that you'd set down on the counter hours ago begun to float. Yellow, pink, purple, and so many other colored hues shined against the surfaces of your kitchen. Next thing you knew, Miguel was here.

He was still clad in the exact same suit that he wore the night that you met him, mask on and everything. You thought that you'd get to at least meet him again with his face shown, but it was fine. Mostly.

The discussion went as smoothly as you thought it would. Awkward silences were common throughout, it was to the point you faked bathroom breaks just so that you didn't have to sit through it all. At times, Pawker even had to interrupt by hopping on the counter and knocking things over.

Throughout it all, Miguel kept his mask on. Even as you offered him a glass of ice cold water, considering how it was going to be a long night, he declined. You set it on the counter for him anyway, just in case he'd change his mind later.

It's an hour and a half into the night, he had to drink something.

"You're going to get a headache if you stay dehydrated," You bluntly pointed out just as he finished explaining only god knows what, you could feel the stress that'd built up from his job in the sigh that he lets out. "I'm fine." He insists.

Rolling your eyes, you lean forward on the surface of your counter and a little bit forward to him. Seeing if there's any signs that he's going to pass out soon, "If this is about your secret identity, you already told me your name. How shameful is showing me your face?"

You don't get much of a response from him besides an annoyed huff, that is it. You grab the glass of water on his side and slide it over to you, taking it in your hand. "Just a sip, and I'll drop it. Okay?"

He doesn't seem to relent, you want to raise your voice but Pawker is napping. "I think I reserved the rights to see the face of my cat's dad."

Miguel pauses his scribbling on your calendar, lenses of his mask noticeable widening as he slowly turns his head to you. The marker in his grasp tightens as well as he says, "What?"

You want to chuckle at his reaction. "Am I wrong?"

He seems to just stare at you like a deer in headlights, before his eyes narrow at you once more. You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk erupting on your lips. "Why? You think you're too pretty for me or something?" You tease.

Even as he's masked, you could feel him roll his eyes. "Yes, my face is too handsome for mere mortals." He quips sarcastically, and before you're able to get out any more smartass remarks, he reaches a hand out to yours. "Give me the shockin' glass."

You move your hand towards him just a few more centimeters before he snatches it from you, holding it in front of him as he takes off his mask. It fades out, pixel by pixel.

Now you're the one in headlights as you slowly take in every detail of Miguel's face. He looks like a marble statue, you think. Slicked back, dark brown hair save for some messy strands that fall onto his forehead, ones that he has to run his hand through to fix. Cheekbones sharper than any knife that you probably have in your kitchen, a refined jawline, thick eyebrows, plump lips, and his nose-

Hello... sailor...

"Happy?" His voice cuts through whatever thoughts were running rampant through your mind as he takes a sip from the glass.

Your composure slips. "Yeah, very."

The night passes quickly, so do the next few nights. With that time, you get to know Miguel and Miguel gets to know you.

If you were lucky, you would be able to hear more about the nature of his job past the missions or operations that your cat was involved in. Sometimes you'd get to hear small utterances from under his breath about canon events and anomalies.

Your job wasn't as important as his, just a simple desk job that you were allowed to work from home sometimes. Which was beneficial for you because that meant long and peaceful afternoons with Pawker on your lap, purring away.

Even if you felt that your occupation wasn't as life-saving as Miguel's every time you remotely even brought up your personal life, talking about plans you have later in the week or dinner dates with some of your friends, he always seemed so intrigued.

Leaning forward in his seat, dark crimson eyes concentrated on yours as you went on long rambles about random niche topics, with his head resting in his palm. He'd think you haven't noticed, but you most definitely have.

You mostly only talked about yourself though, it made you feel a little entitled. You didn't know if you were just self-obsessed or if Miguel didn't want to even talk a single peep about his personal life.

But after a while, batting your eyelashes, encouraging teases, he relented. It felt like all hell broke loose.

There was definitely something more in this partnership, if you could even call it that anymore. That joke you made about Miguel being Pawker's cat dad started to feel like less of a joke as time went on.

It started with more visits, sometimes even in the middle of the day rather than the dead of night like usual. He (and his A.I. assistant that you only found out about a couple days ago) found a way to hack into your phone so that you could receive direct messages from him.

It moved on to treats for Pawker. Whenever you begun to run low on cat food for him, a fresh supply would enter your pantry mysteriously followed by a text from Miguel minutes later asking if it was okay.

The gifts continued to upscale in size and expense, going from cat beds to a new, advanced automatic feeder.

When you thought that Miguel was done emptying his wallet for Pawker, the gifts started to direct towards you instead. Although, they were still cat related. Sometimes, little phone charms with a polite looking ginger cat decorated at the end of it would end up on your nightstand. Once you two settled down on the stools behind your kitchen counter, he'd even pass you small tokens moving from cat to more you related.

His excuses? I happened to be shopping in this store and I thought of you. There was a great deal and I just couldn't pass it up. They gave me an extra one for free.

And as he dished out each one, the least convinced you got. It was so hard for you to try returning the gestures as well, but when you could you saw in his eyes how much he appreciated it.

Love was a constant feeling in your everyday life, seeing Pawker curled up at your side after waking up from a long night always made your heart squeeze. However as you continued to talk and talk and talk with Miguel, there was this unfamiliar ardor that grew and grew and grew in your heart.

It was undeniable, you were in love.

And you were going to do something about it.

Miguel's schedule conflicted with yours most times, even if you tried being sneaky with finding out what days he was free, it was like fighting a losing battle. Which meant that there was only one option left for the both of you.

You knew that Miguel was going to be coming over again tonight, which meant that it was time to spruce up your apartment. You had cleaned the moment you got home from work, dug a little deeper in your wardrobe for your better items of clothing, and brought out the good wine.

It seemed that you weren't the only one excited for this surprise date, Pawker was oddly more well-behaved tonight compared to any other night. Staying inside your room, and you haven't heard any claws scratching at the door or vocals for the past thirty minutes.

You waited for midnight to hit as you anxiously clutched the bouquet of flowers that you bought on the way home, you basically feel the petals falling out from how tight you were holding it.

When you sensed the shift in gravity, saw the colours light up the dimness of your apartment, and smiled once Miguel walked through, you'd prayed he wouldn't jump hack into the portal once he caught sight of you.

And thank god, he didn't.

"Hi." is all you're able to say as you hand out the flowers for Miguel, it seems that he dressed up for the occasion. Partially at least, you could still see his suit from under the long sleeve shirt and sweatpants. His large hands take the bouquet from you, eyes darting back and forth as if he was in a dream.

"What's all this?" He asks, tone dripping in absolute disbelief at what's happening right now. Perching himself down on one of your stools like he was about to pass out. God, you were amazing.

"I know you don't have time for things like this so, I took matters in to my own hands." You sat down beside him like you always do, pouring wine into his glass then into yours before taking a big sip.

The look of wonder and awe as Miguel admired your little date set-up made you feel absolutely victorious, he had to put the flowers you got him on the counter otherwise they were going to fall out of his hands from how stunned he was.

"I thought I'd take initiative, you know before you go bankrupt from constantly buying me and Pawker gifts." Miguel chuckles at your witty comment, taking your hands in his, brushing his thumbs over your knuckles. This is probably the happiest you've ever seen him, and you took even more pride knowing that you'll be the only person to make him feel this type of way from now on.

"I've– I've been wanting to ask you out for a while, with the gifts and all, but our schedules and I wasn't a hundred percent sure that you liked me."

As he says that, one of your hands slip out from his grasp and your fingers cup his cheek. He leans into the touch, hearts in his eyes as he does so. You were addicted to him.

"I think you'd have to buy me a new heart too because there's no way that I wouldn't like you back," It was strange to think that all of this happened because you found out that your cat was a vigilante, you never could have imagined that your first love would be a grumpy, emotionally constipated, superhero from another dimension, but you were more than happy with what you got now.

After your words sat in the atmosphere a little longer, Miguel brings your hand to his chest where you could feel his heart beating faster than a race car. "I want to kiss you, please let me kiss you, cariño."

You frantically nodded your head, standing up from your seat so that you could be on par with his height as your arms move to his shoulders for support. "Okay."

Then he kisses you.

Bold, passionate and those two are words aren't even enough to describe it. Your fingers find his curls, tugging at them softly to try getting him closer to you and he moans into your mouth. His hands paw at your waist, digging into the sides of your body so that you can slot in-between his legs.

Once you two separate, it's hard to catch your breath. You pant heavily, head lolled against his shoulder before small snickers slip past your mouth. You couldn't believe you just fucking did that.

Miguel pulls you off of him, but still keeps you close. Looking you deep in the eye, thinking that he's going to pull you in for another kiss until—

Meooooooowwwwwww...

You freeze in place, brows furrowing as you quickly turn your head to your bedroom door, waiting for a few seconds before that grating sound of claw marks against wood rings in your ears again and you sigh. Miguel doesn't seem entirely fazed though, his grip on your waist loosens as he allows you to step back.

"Someone's upset." You state, taking slow strides over to your door. You don't want to leave Miguel yet.

"You can take it if you want," He shrugs his shoulders, spinning the wine in the glass then taking a sip. "Then we could continue where we left off." A wolfish grin curls at his lips.

Without hesitation, you open the door. Cooing and reassuring Pawker that you still loved him even though Miguel's tongue was down your throat not even a minute ago.

What a cat he was.

requests closed, masterlist here

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #spiderman #atsv #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #x reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #gender neutral reader #gn reader #spider cat #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction #fluff #romance #falling in love #long post

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