#so anyway let him fuck the vampire GOD FORBID HE DO ANYTHING

[carefulfears]

a lot of these fans are scully hardcore fans who call mulder an asshole for fucking someone while scully is abducted and in danger and i’m like maybe let him have the one thing that makes him forget all this even for a split second and makes him stop the self flagellation for a moment ?? you know..

tbh i feel like kristen was kind of more an indulgence into self-hatred (and a sort of feeling of betrayal?) than anything else but i totally get what you’re saying anon and you’re so right like…omg…let me not speak…

[dalchiid]

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 40

A story of obsession, fear, and lust. You're a maid whose Masters forbid you in meeting their guests for the night but your luck runs dry when you run into them and catch the attention of Lord Hoseok himself. He's smitten from the beginning and thus, your fate has been decided.

Pairing: Yandere Vampire Hoseok x Fem/AFAB Reader

Word Count: 6,106

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Possessive, Angst, Fear, Blood, Biting, Dub-Con, Eventual smut

Will add or remove warnings based on what's in each chapter.

I do not condone the behavior being exhibited in my work. This is solely for entertainment purposes and I hope if any of you are ever in a situation like this that you have the chance and ability to run away from it. Take care out there.

DO NOT copy, edit, or repost my work anywhere.

Chapter 40 Warnings: Yandere, Possessive, Obsession, Mild Touching

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Shit. Maybe Hoseok is right. Maybe you did get sick because your nose won't stop running, your throat itches, and you've been sneezing. A lot. You didn't want this to ruin movie night so you tried your best to maintain the sniffles and sneeze as silently as you can. You even excused yourself to the bathroom to blow your nose to which Hoseok said he'll accompany you. You told him no but he still came and is waiting for you outside the locked door.

"Jesus fucking christ," you mumble after a sneeze.

There's a gentle knock on the door followed by Hoseok's worried words.

"Baby let me in. Please?"

Your nose feels stuffed and there's a whistling sound when you try to breathe through the stuffage.

"Just give me a minute." Your voice sounds nasally.

In response Hoseok jiggles the doorknob.

You sigh and roll your eyes but you let him in anyway lest he break the damn door down.

He has a worried look on as he goes to cup your face.

"Maybe you need something stronger than what I gave you." He's referring to the cold medicine.

"No," you say. "It's not going to work immediately, Hoseok. It's going to take some time."

"But still," he huffs. "It's like what I gave you just triggered you to get worse. I'll have the servants grab you something stronger."

You're about to tell him to forget about it but he leaves you to find some help.

You sigh and go back to find some toilet paper to blow your nose in. The noise you make as you blow your guts out into the paper sounds gross but it's not enough to clear the stuffed feeling in your sinuses.

"Are you okay?"

You jump at the sound of Taehyung's voice.

"Christ don't do that," you say.

He actually looks a bit sheepish when he apologizes.

Throwing away the toilet paper you grab more for yourself as you answer him.

"I'm fine, Taehyung. I just got a little sick."

"Ew."

Your brows furrow at the voice that clearly isn't Taehyung's. When you peek around the doorframe you see that it's Jimin.

You frown. "What are you doing here?"

His hackles seem to rise because his eyes widen in anger. "This is my house."

"It's our house." Taehyung says before directing his attention back to you. "He followed me because I wanted to see if you were okay."

"And clearly she's fine. Now let's get back to the movie."

"Where's Hoseok?"

Jimin stomps his foot when his brother doesn't follow him.

You throw your hand in the direction he left in. "He went to get some help. Wants them to find me something for the cold."

"So you're not okay," he says as a matter of fact.

"Not really Taehyung but I promise it's nothing bad. I'll get through this."

"Why is everyone out here?"

You look down the hall to see Seokjin.

You bring your hand to your temple and rub it. "Oh my god."

"She has a disease." Jimin grumbles.

"She has the cold." Hoseok corrects as he comes back.

"Oh." Seokjin walks up to join you all. "Did you give her anything for it?"

"I did." Hoseok says. "But I sent someone to grab something stronger."

"Ah."

"Is everything okay?"

All of you turn your head to see Namjoon as he walks over.

"She has gonorrhea." Jimin says.

"Y/N has a cold." Both Hoseok and Taehyung correct their brother at the same time.

"How are you feeling?" Namjoon questions as he goes to place the back of his hand against your forehead. "You're warm."

"No shit."

"Jimin shut up." Hoseok chides.

You sigh out loud. "I'm fine. It's just a little cold. Nothing I can't handle."

"Everything okay?"

Every single head in the hall turns towards Yoongi that comes waltzing over.

You're clearly feeling irritated but also worried. "Guys come on. Jungkook wanted you all together for a movie night and you're over here checking up on me. He's going to be pissed."

Yoongi throws a thumb over his shoulder. "Jungkook fell asleep about 30 minutes ago."

You throw a look of disbelief his way. Wasn't this all Jungkook's idea. To have a movie night? Now he's asleep and his brothers are in the hallway bothering you.

You weren't expecting your night to take this kind of a turn.

"Look," you start. "I'm sick but it's not a big deal. Someone will bring me something for the cold and I'll be fine. Just go back to watching the movie. Jungkook may be asleep right now but when he wakes up he might get upset if none of you are in there with him."

Yoongi hums. "You're right." He looks at his brothers. "Everyone done here?"

Seokjin shrugs while Hoseok runs his fingers through your hair in comfort.

"I've been done." Jimin grumbles.

He grabs Taehyung by the arm and tugs him along despite his brother clearly wanting to stay. Seokjin follows behind them without a word and you're left with Namjoon, Yoongi and, of course, Hoseok.

"I hope you feel better, Y/N." Namjoon smiles and it warms your heart. "Can't have you missing our quality time together."

You huff a laugh. "I know."

Yoongi looks between you two as he tongues his cheek. It's unnerving how much he stares. To the point that you have to smile his way to get a different reaction from him.

He gives that halfway smile before patting Namjoon's back.

"We should get going. Leave these two alone."

There's a slight tug he makes on Namjoon's arm. When the tallest of the brothers looks down at him his brows furrow because Yoongi is giving him a certain look.

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

Namjoon nods as he's dragged away and you're a little worried. Yoongi seemed pretty hellbent on talking to him alone. He actually leads him to the playroom but you doubt they're in the rumbling theater room.

"Hey."

You look over to Hoseok who smiles.

Before either of you can say anything more a servant approaches the two of you with a call to Hoseok by his title.

"My Lord," he says.

Hoseok angles his body to the servant who bows to him.

"We have this for colds." He presents two bottles. "This one is for daytime and the other nighttime. The latter will make her sleepy so I think it's best the Lady takes it when it's time to sleep."

You're not unfamiliar with these types of medicines. Having taken them a time or two before when you used to work. You're sure Hoseok isn't unfamiliar with them either but he thanks the servant nonetheless and sends him on his way.

When he turns to you he hands you the daytime medicine with a smile.

"Take this for now. I'll give you the other one later."

Without a second to waste you open the bottle and pour the liquid into the little cup it comes with. You take the medicine and grimace at the taste but you know it's something you just have to deal with. Hoseok smiles when you lock eyes but you hurriedly look away and go to wash the cup.

He leans against the doorframe waiting for you to finish. When the rushing water comes to a close he stretches his hand out for you to take. You ignore it though and hold the medicine with two hands. It doesn't deter him though because he comes over to wrap an arm around your shoulders.

"It's almost time to eat. Once the movie is over we can head to the dining room."

You make a face to which he coos at.

"Would you prefer if we have the food sent upstairs? We can do that. So you can rest."

To be honest that sounds a lot better than sitting in front of everyone while you're sneezing and coughing. You think the brothers would prefer you not attend with them anyway because of how sick you are so you nod.

"Okay." Hoseok chirps. "We'll do that then. Let's head upstairs."

"What about the movie?"

"I think it's best we get you to bed. Jungkook would understand."

You guess so, you guess not. Jungkook is an unpredictable character just like Hoseok. You never know what's going on with him until he speaks out loud and even then you don't entirely know. He's blunt. That's for sure. Outside of that he's mysterious.

Once you're inside the room you practically collapse onto the bed. Hoseok chuckles as he takes the medicine from you and places it on your nightstand along with the one he held.

"Come on," he says. "Let's get you more comfortable."

He slips your slippers off and helps you get under the covers. Curling up you rub the side of your face into your pillow and sigh. The coolness of it feels good and you relish in the feel of it.

Hoseok makes a call to have the food to be sent upstairs and hangs up soon after.

"That's done. Is there anything you need before I lay down?"

You think on it and there's only one thought that comes to mind.

You purse your lips before biting the bottom one. The thought you have is if he'd give you another hit. You'd appreciate it really. You know he's already given you the high you crave but you hope he'd be willing to give it to you again.

"Y/N?"

You look up at him and he raises a brow.

"Um," you start. You curl up further before looking off towards the side. "I was wondering if, if you could give it to me again."

His brows furrow. "Give what?"

He's utterly confused and you're not helping with your cryptic message.

"I was hoping you would give your saliva... again."

Realization graces his face as he goes to sit down on the bed.

You're a little too embarrassed to lock eyes with him so you look away. He's not having it though because he crawls over to hover over you.

"Hey," he says. "Look at me."

Your heart is beating a mile a minute. You're nervous and you know he knows it.

His hand comes up to your chin so he can angle your head towards him. With it comes your eyes shifting over until you're looking directly at him. He smiles though it barely reaches his eyes.

"I would but you're sick. I think it's best that I just let you rest."

You frown. That's not at all what you wanted to hear.

"What does me being sick have to do with anything?"

Hoseok releases you and sits back. His smile never leaves his face even though he can clearly see the annoyance on yours.

"What you need is to rest."

"But it wouldn't hurt me if you gave me what I want."

To this he sighs. "Y/N."

"Hoseok," you bite back.

His eyes narrow as his nostrils flare. "Don't," he says. "Remember what you promised me."

Your hand comes up to rub your eyes before covering them with your arm.

You're feeling frustrated.

"Did you think that because I gave it to you earlier that I would later give it to you again?"

You did think that and right now with him making it sound like you're out of your mind - it leaves you feeling upset.

Hoseok sighs deeply. "Y/N," he calls to you but you don't respond. "Y/N. Hey."

He grabs your arm to remove it from over your eyes but when he does you're not looking his way.

"Y/N." He tries again but before he can say anything further you mumble.

"You made me this way. You know that?"

Silence fills the room. His grip on your arm tightens making you wince. When you look at him he looks upset.

"Hoseok. You're hurting me."

He releases you without a problem but the frown on his face doesn't leave.

"Maybe I did make you this way," he says through clenched teeth. "But don't hold it over my head. Do you understand me?"

You swallow in discomfort.

You don't know why you weren't expecting him to get upset with you but you didn't. It shocks you a bit and it makes you a little shy as you shift your eyes away from him. He isn't having it though because he says your name in a strong commanding voice that makes you flinch.

"I asked you a question."

You lick your lips. "I understand." A pause before you tack on these final words. "I'm sorry."

His expression softens at your apology before he huffs and looks off to the side.

You wonder what's going on in that head of his. Is he still upset? Is he disappointed? Is he realizing you're not the one for him? You can only hope and dream that last one but that's all it'll ever be. Hopes and dreams.

"After we eat."

You look over to him in mild confusion until it hits you what he means.

"For real," you ask.

He looks over to you and no longer does he appear annoyed.

"For real," he says.

You're going to get what you want. That's all that matters to you now. You sigh in relief and he catches it.

"Thank you for apologizing."

Your brows furrow the slightest bit before you look away. You only did that because you wanted him off your back. For your sake.

You shrug your shoulders in response.

Hoseok's body comes to rest on his side with his arm keeping him perched up. His hand comes up so he can brush his thumb over your cheek to which you let him. It's one of those gentle touches he does that you don't mind too much but it still makes you a little uncomfortable.

"What wouldn't I do for you? Honestly."

You don't know how to respond so you keep quiet.

It's like this for a little bit. Him looking down at you as he caresses you and, of course, you're stuck in your head. You're far away from here. Your mind is far from his reach and you worry just a little bit that he'll go back on his word and control you again. But he doesn't do it and for that you are grateful.

After a while there's a knock on his door and you know that it's the food. You sit up quickly not because you're hungry but because of what comes after. If Hoseok knows that's why you look positively excited to eat he doesn't say. He's just happy to see you wanting to eat.

The trays of food are given to you and you both rest them on the bed. Your legs are crossed as are Hoseok's and you're left to eat with the servants leaving the room.

"Here." Hoseok says.

You look at him to see he's holding up some rice to try and feed to you. You frown as you pull your head back.

He pouts. "Why don't you let me feed you?"

Is he actually pouting over this? You try not to roll your eyes before you speak.

"I don't know. It's just embarrassing."

His head tilts a little. "Why would you be embarrassed? I just want to take care of you. There's nothing wrong with that."

You sigh. "I just don't like being babied."

He brings the rice down back into its bowl before turning to you. His hand comes up to the back of your neck where he rubs it gently.

"I get you don't like it but I want to pamper you. Treat you like the queen that you are. You mean everything to me and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

These declarations of love are always too much for you but you know he won't listen when you tell him to stop. Look how he is now and all because you won't let him feed you.

Hoseok grabs the rice again with his utensils and brings it up to your lips.

"Please?"

You sigh deeply and avert your eyes as you open your mouth. You don't see how wide his smile grows at this. He's absolutely elated to be feeding you while you feel a warmth coat your cheeks and ears due to embarrassment.

Closing your mouth you chew the rice that tastes like misery. Before you can even fully swallow the whole thing he brings a piece of meat up to your lips. You look towards him to see he's looking at you expectantly. He's smiling happily and how badly do you want to erase it from his face, but then you remember something.

He's going to give you your high after you're done eating. What if he changes his mind and all because you snapped at him? Because you wouldn't let him feed you? It's a thought that makes you grind your teeth in irritation but you have to play it safe.

After swallowing the rice you open up for the meat. Hoseok's heart shaped smile is nearly blinding as you accept his offering.

"Good girl," he says in a whisper.

You don't know if he was actually planning for you to hear it or not but either way you did.

He keeps feeding you in between the mouthfuls he takes himself. At some point after finishing his food he switches from his bowls to yours and feeds you again. You're starting to feel full and turn your head away when he brings up some kimchi.

"Come on, my love. Just one more bite."

"I can't. I'm going to feel sick if I have another bite."

It's already bad enough you're dealing with the cold. You don't want to feel nausea on top of that.

Hoseok brings the kimchi back to your bowl on your tray and chuckles.

"You're right. Let's not force it. You've eaten quite a lot at least." He smiles. "Any room for dessert?"

You groan to which he laughs.

"I'm kidding. We don't even have dessert here." He stands up and grabs his tray. "Let me just set these out real quick."

And he does. Both your and his tray are waiting outside the door for someone to pick them up. When he's done he dusts his hands as if they were dirty before coming over to his side of the bed where he kneels down before you.

You slip further under the covers and rest your head on your pillow. You feel absolutely stuffed. It's unknown how many mouthfuls of food you had but you know that it was more than enough.

"You were very good." Hoseok says.

Your eyes shift to him to see he's biting his bottom lip. He looks over the moon because you let him feed you. Like he said, he just wanted to pamper you but you're not used to it and you sure as hell didn't like it.

Hoseok crawls over to you before kneeling back down. His knees are pressed up against your arm and he brings a hand up to your face to cup gently.

"Thank you for letting me have this. I know you don't like it so I won't expect this from you every time but once in a while let me have my way."

That's the thing. He always has his way. No matter if you like it or not.

"And so I'll give you want you want." He leans his head closer to yours. "Open up and stick your tongue out for me."

You know what he means and you happily part your lips for him.

There's a smirk on his lips before he procures a wad of saliva that slowly descends from his mouth to yours. It lands on your tongue and slides down until it reaches the back of your throat where you swallow it.

From the moment it hit your tongue you felt it. The real reason why you're here. What started it all for you. The high. You can never have enough of it. It's intoxicating.

Hoseok pulls back to watch the way your body reacts to his saliva. You see him - feel him as he caresses your cheek. Your eyes close in bliss and you just let the feeling take over you completely.

How could you explain this feeling to someone who's never felt something like this before? There's not enough words in the vocabulary for you to express this feeling. You just know it makes you feel good. Like you're above and beyond everything and everyone. Untouchable. Elated. Enraptured.

You angle your head so that you can rub the side of your face into Hoseok's hand. You can hear him giggle at your action but you don't care. You're enjoying this too much.

You feel Hoseok straddle your waist and you would open your eyes to see what he's doing but you don't dare open them. His hand moves so his thumb can rub against your lips. He applies a bit of pressure to which you react by parting them slightly. You hear him huff a laugh before he slips the digit into your awaiting mouth. Your tongue laves over the pad of his thumb and he gives a half hearted moan. One made more out of interest rather than pleasure.

"You look so pretty like this," he says.

Your eyes open and you swear you see a halo over his head. Maybe you're losing it because of the high or maybe it's the ceiling light up above his head. Either way you see it and for a moment the devil looks like an angel. That's what he started off as anyway.

Hoseok slips his thumb out and watches as you lick your lips. His hands come to rest on either side of your head as he tilts his own in silent wonder.

The high is still running strong but you're interrupted by an unexpected sneeze. Right. You're sick. It makes Hoseok jump at the sudden sound before he begins to laugh. It has to be the high because you laugh along with him though it's more airy.

"I should probably bring you some tissues. I'll bring over the little trash bin from the bathroom too."

He sits up straight before climbing off to grab you the things you need. You sigh at the loss of contact and blink a few times. You think the high might be wearing off now but you don't want it to leave you. Will Hoseok give it to you again if you ask? Probably not. Unless you do something for him.

You can't believe you're thinking this with a semi sane mind.

When Hoseok comes back he places a box of tissue paper on your nightstand and the bin from the bathroom by your side of the bed. He's unsuspecting and so it catches him by surprise when you sit up and tug him forward by his pants.

"What," he asks.

You rest yourself on your knees and reach a hand out to grab him by the back of his neck and pull him down towards you while your other hand finds his cock through his pants.

He gives a surprised sound as your lips come together and there's a slight bit of hesitation before he reciprocates your kiss.

It's smooth sailing up until this point because he doesn't part his lips despite you running the tip of your tongue against the seam of them. You can feel the way he hardens in your hand and he moans but he ultimately pulls back and stills your hand with a hold to your wrist.

"We can't," he says.

Why couldn't you? You're starting to feel a little too sober for this.

"Why not," you ask.

Hoseok smiles as he removes your hands from him.

"As much as I would love to continue - you're sick. You should be resting."

You frown. "But it didn't stop us from doing what we did in the shower."

"Yeah but you weren't sneezing and coughing like you are now."

You know he's right but it frustrates you. Couldn't he have just ignored it and let you get what you want? Even when you're playing your cards right do you still not get your way.

Hoseok helps ease you back down beneath the covers that he brings up to your chin.

"We can pick this up another time. For now just rest."

You sigh but acquiesce to him.

To fill the silence in the room he turns on the TV. This turns out to be a boring night in where you're feeling gross and Hoseok is tucked in by your side. Your plan failed and you have nothing to make this cold a bit more bearable.

You weren't expecting him to deny you. It was a bit surprising to be honest. You thought he'd go for it but Hoseok is always a step or two ahead of you. As always.

Besides the TV the occasional sniffle, cough and the sound of you blowing your nose fills the room. Hoseok had put on a movie from On Demand that you're half paying attention to. It's not that it's a bad movie but you're starting to get a headache because of how clogged your sinuses are. At some point Hoseok maneuvers over to you so he can check how warm you are. It makes him frown but he doesn't say anything about it. He just asks if you're thirsty to which you reply that no you aren't.

You're about midway through the movie which you only know because Hoseok pauses it and you're about to ask why when there's a knock on the door. Hoseok welcomes them in and when the door opens you're a little surprised to see that it's Taehyung. He has a little mug with him that he places on your bedside table with a smile.

"I brought you tea," he says. "Drink it while it's still warm."

You're sure your face says it all. You're astonished by his actions and it honestly warms your heart.

"Thank you," you say as you go to sit up.

Taehyung just continues to smile as you grab the cup of tea and blow it a little before taking a sip.

"How was the movie?" Hoseok asks. "Did Jungkook wake up?"

His brother hums with a nod. "The movie was good and Jungkook was a little disoriented. He didn't even notice you were missing. Jimin helped in taking him to bed."

It's Hoseok's turn to hum. "And what brings you here? Besides bringing Y/N some tea?"

Taehyung bites his bottom lip and twiddles his thumbs together. "I just wanted to make sure Y/N was okay." He directs his attention towards you. "How's the tea?"

You take another sip before bringing the cup down. "It's good. It's soothing my throat. Thank you again."

He nods his head along with a little bow.

You take your time with the tea as it's still too hot to drink in one go but while this happens Taehyung stays by your bed side. It doesn't go unnoticed by you or Hoseok who raises a brow his brother's way.

"Do you want to sit, Tae," he asks.

Taehyung's brows perk up and his lips part. "Oh um, it's okay. I'm just waiting for Y/N to be done so I can take the mug back downstairs."

Hoseok sends him a knowing look. "Taehyung sit down."

"Okay." Without resistance he comes to sit on the edge of the bed by your legs.

You smile at him and he smiles back.

If there's one thing you've learned about Taehyung it's that he's a little clingy. To you at least. You don't know how he really is with his brothers. He might be the same way with them but you haven't been able to witness it since you're almost always with either Hoseok or Namjoon. It brings forth a different feeling inside of you. You don't know what but maybe it's a protective feeling? He seems really sweet and you're so glad you don't have to witness the scarier side of him anymore.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you sneeze and reach for a tissue. When you tug it out you see it's the last one and point it out to Hoseok.

Your captor's brows raise for a moment before he sits up.

"I should have more in the bathroom. Give me a second."

He gets out of bed and heads to the bathroom leaving you alone with Taehyung who looks like he has something on his mind.

"You okay," you ask curiously.

Taehyung looks a little surprised but covers it with a shy smile. "Um it's nothing."

"You sure? You can tell me if you want." You don't want to push him if he doesn't want to talk about it.

He shakes his head softly and you swear you see his cheeks turn pink.

"It's just," he pauses. "I don't want to freak you out."

Your brows furrow. His response isn't what you were expecting and it honestly makes your pulse rise.

He seems to notice this and panics a bit. "It's nothing bad it's just that um... I've never had a girl friend before."

You tilt your head. "Girlfriend?"

"I mean like a friend who's a girl." He points to you then himself. "You're my first friend who's a girl." And like it needs clarification he continues on. "I've had a girlfriend before but it was more of a fling than anything deep. Outside of that it's just been men in my life. Both in friendship and love life."

You're a little surprised by his admission. Not that he's been with men but because you're his first friend that doesn't fit his usual criteria.

"Oh," you say. "So I'm the first? For real?"

He nods his head. "For real."

You take another sip from your tea though this time it's a little longer now that it's cooling off a bit.

What do you say to that? You don't know but right now it's like Taehyung is exposing you his heart and you have to be very careful with it. So you just nod your head and mutter the word "Cool."

To this his smile widens into a box shape that makes you smile yourself though it's a little more reserved.

"Cool," he says. "Sorry if it's weird. I just thought it was nice. For me at least."

That feeling of being protective of him resurfaces and it really surprises you. Who would have ever thought that you and Taehyung will be friends? That he'd admit this to you like it's some big secret? A secret he was so shy to admit. It makes your features soften and without a second thought you reach for his hand to hold.

He looks down at your hand for a second before tentatively placing his own on top. You give a little squeeze that he smiles to and squeezes back.

You don't know what you're doing. It just seemed right to do but you feel like you should stop.

All of this will come to an end some day. You're making friends with the enemy's family. Friends and a lover. The day you run out of Hoseok's life is the day this will all end and all you'll be left with is a family of vampires that will probably want to end you for hurting their Hoseok's heart. Everyone except for Namjoon who knows you want to escape. Namjoon who if his brothers find out what he's doing with you - you don't even want to think about what they'll do to him. These thoughts make you swallow deeply before you turn your attention to your tea that has cooled down enough for you to drink it all down.

You clear your throat before handing him the mug that he takes after letting go of your hand. He gives you one last look of that box shaped smile before he stands up to leave.

"I'll see you around then," he questions you.

You purse your lips with a nod. "See you around."

He smiles one last time before leaving the room. Leaving you alone with Hoseok who you notice is leaning against the doorframe to his closet with his arms crossed. He's smiling and it makes you frown.

"What," you ask.

He stands up straight and walks over to the bed to crawl on top of it and hands you a new box of tissues. You take it but before you can open it he leans over to gently hold your head so he can kiss your forehead.

"What," you ask again.

He releases you to get under the covers.

"Thank you," he says.

"For?"

"For being you. For being nice and getting along with my brothers. For everything."

You look down at the box in your hands and hastily open it. You take out a tissue and blow your nose ignoring the fact that Hoseok is thanking you for being nice to Taehyung. Your thoughts are a little jumbled right now with the fact that you know this all won't end well for you. It's a fact but would you rather be in a house with friends or enemies? Of course the former. It's just a little scary knowing how things will go once it's time.

Hoseok brings a hand up to rub your back and helps ease you down on the bed and into his side. You let him maneuver you how he sees fit as your mind is too busy fumbling around with facts you don't like. You can hear the way his heart beats beneath your ear. How it creates a lengthy rhythm compared to yours that's steady like a human's because that's what you are: a human among vampires. It's a scary thought.

He presses play on his remote and the room is filled with the sounds from the TV again. You try to drown out your thoughts with the movie. Take in word for word of what the characters on the screen are saying just so you can ignore what's going on through your head. It works for the most part. Especially when you start to grow a little tired. Hoseok notices the change in your breathing and wakes you up so you can take the nighttime cold medicine. It tastes bitter and you wish you had something to wash it down with. Hoseok takes the little cup with him to the bathroom to rinse out and smiles when he sees the way you're curling up in bed after he comes back. The movie is done and he switches the TV to some random show that's on. Something to keep him entertained while you're on the precipice of sleep.

It's when you're in a slightly delusional state due to the cold and the medicine do you ask Hoseok something.

"What happens if I-" Your words begin to slur.

Hoseok hums questioningly and turns on his side so he can face you.

"What happens with what, my love?"

You should stop where you're at but you're not yourself right now so you try again.

"What happens if I break your heart?"

You can feel the stillness even without being totally coherent.

Your eyes are closed and you can't bring yourself to open them. Maybe if you did you would have backtracked on that question.

"You won't," he says though his words are barely above a whisper.

"But what if I do?"

Hoseok sighs. "I don't know what's gotten into you but if were talking hypothetically," he pauses.

He stays silent for a moment too long and just when you think he won't speak he does.

"For whatever the reason may be I will never give up on you. I won't ever let you leave and I'll make sure we get through this. Together. Outside of that I know you won't even try and dare do that. Not if you know what's good for you." He leans over to place a kiss onto your forehead.

You don't realize it but a tear slips out and he wipes it away.

You're completely out of it now. Falling asleep so close to him. You don't hear, see nor feel the way he curls up closer to you. How he wraps an arm around you or how his lips stay pressed against your forehead. Nor how his eyes shift from left to right in worry nor how they gloss over with unshed tears. You don't see him the way he sees you.

[rdbrainz]

nnoitra is my absolute fave and i adore your art!!! id love to see some kind of dynamic fighting pose of him in your style, but im also curious about any art or headcanons you might have about him if he had experienced the living world somewhat- like what foods would he like, or hobbies, or how would he spend time w others? sorry for the long ask love you bye!!!!

Thanks🤧❤ !!! And ohh that's a good ask! I have like a couple of answers for different turns of events on this one... Might as well also share some of the other ideas I have so it's a lot and even more.

But well if we're talking about regular hollow Nnoitra I think he'd be interested in all kinds of entertainment. Mainly music. He always struck me as a music person tbh especially since I firmly believe he'd be involved with goth subculture in some way or the other. I can see him collecting CDs as a hobby. Considering that my version of Nnoitra absolutely HATES thinking into things too much if they have something to do with his relationships, himself or the hollow existence as a whole I guess doing nothing when he's not asleep is hell for him because there's not much to think about in Hueco Mundo anyway. Maybe background music would give him some peace of mind while he's musing to himself. I mean even if his mind would wander back to these topics AT LEAST it won't be as painful to think about it as doing the same while you're surrounded by silence and lying on a hard surface locked up somewhere in Las Noches so no one would gnaw into your damn throat on your free time.

Him being a melomane/an avid music lover would work in any AU or story. I think he'd love A Perfect Circle. You know... considering the crescent moon and circle patterns and the music theme Kubo chose for him.

If we're talking about a bit worse turn of events where - let's say - he ends up in someone's home in the world of the living after he got his ass handed to him by zaraki, had to flee and now he feels worse than ever... watching TV is his other go-to. He'd be in front of it 24/7. It's stupid, sometimes even curious, sometimes confusing and he can either catch up on things or just complain about something to himself. His mind is occupied with something all the time either way.

I also think hollow Nnoitra would be very sceptical about trying human/shinigami food. It doesn't seem appealing to him, unnatural even. Especially if he has someone to feed off of. I believe that arrancars can work like vampires. Shinigamis are just compressed spiritual power so transfusing reiatsu would have the same effect as actually eating a shinigami. What's the point of choosing between flesh, blood and reiatsu if it's all the same in their case 😭. If he ends up living with a human then. Well. Blood sucking it is I guess lmao. Anyway yeah when it comes to food he's more prone to sticking to his hollow side. Though maybe he'd be tempted to try a soda or two.

If he's human/a shinigami then this guy would eat and/or drink literally anything. Especially if it's sea food, meat or something spicy. I had an AU where he was a captain in Gotei 13 and one of his hobbies was visiting karakura and other cities just to absolutely rob food establishments of their supplies. If a restaraunt has an "all you can eat" offer then it might as well be fucking bankrupt. If a cute cafe has a special Valentine's Day offer where couples only pay half the price then "Well I guess I could give someone a call". Cooking though..? Nope. Can't be bothered enough to cook something for himself.

Someone I know also had suggested once that in this AU he'd have a shit ton of hair products. And well it does make sense.

In a Shinigami Academy AU I had he's much younger and edgier LMAO. Goth enough to care about his appearance and wear makeup but too insecure to not stick out too much. He'd love collecting good cool-looking clothing but would literally bite off his own limbs if he had to wear something skin-tight or god forbid skinny jeans. Him and his toothpick legs could never!! Anyway there he wasn't so wary and disdainful towards other people. Desperate for some affection but sadly too air-headed to care enough. So he was sleeping around a lot just for funsies with Shinji as his partner in crime (sorry). I think that's about all I have on this topic!! Tnx again!

[dollivication]

Hihiiiii, this is gonna be long, i've got a rant AND an idea thingy. i've mentioned before not bein into anyone other than Wesker in Resident Evil buuuut I just watched Resident Evil: Vendetta and I GET THE HYPE, I ADMIT, I GET IT. LEON'S MODEL IS SO FINE. I'm guilty to say seeing him in the movie and the old games vs in RE2+4 Remake, I prefer this design. He's more rugged? LAIK I KNOW HE STARTS OFF AS A ROOKIE BUUUT THEY COULDA KEPT HIS LOOK I saw people speaking about the newer design for his character saying they gave him the 'dumbass pretty boy' look cuz it makes more sense for him as a rookie cop in 2 but man.... Rookies can look like anything so if that were the case for the change....eeeeeh.... Also unpopular opinion, I also prefer Louis' old design. I'M SORRY, HE DOES GIVE OFF THE CREEPY UNCLE VIBE IN THE REMAKES MODEL. ANYWAY, I hope you're doing well today, staying hydrated and fed! Gotta look after yourself above all else. To make this less of a rant, I shall be the first (I think) to make a Wesker scenario/idea thingy. Wesker is all about himself, right? It's a part I surprisingly love about him. BUT LAIK, if he deems you special enough to make you his 'pet', just know he's NEVER letting you leave him. He knows all, where you go, who you talk to, what you're doing, etc. And if you even think of trying to contact anyone (perhaps a certain STARS agent...) you can find yourself tied up by his Uroboros tentacles and used for hours until he's done with work and uses you himself. He's superior, he tells you that, and he'll fill you up with his cum, talk about giving you a 'purpose' , laik breeding you to have his obviously 'superior, god-like children' OOP- He's a feckin menace, I can imagine if you go to get help in person (he has eyes on you at all times, so ofc you can roam around but not for long if you keep creep round some rookie or CHRIS) you'll end up in a bloody puddle, not dead but certainly taught a lesson... ☉▵☉ JUST AN IDEA FROM A DEPRAVED WESKER FAN DON'T MIND MEEE Love ya, Dolly (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ -Nell 🍓

NELLLLLL HAI HAILLO HEY :3!!!! WHEN I SAW THIS I LIT UP I CANNOT LAI… it’s always a treat to hear from yu!!! ^.^ and oh my we have MUCH TO DISCUSS TAKE A SEAT MWAAA 🩷🩷🩷

VENDETTA LEON IS JUST A SKRUNKLE!!!! HE IS a sopping wet andgrumpy kity… AND NOW THAT YOU MENTION IT,, it would be interesting to see him laik dat in re2.. laik how could this stingy critter get even stingier… a leon miserable from the start would’ve been pretty funy methinks LMAO

you are SO right about luis’ old design you are voicing thoughts i am 2 shy to say.. laik his new design is great!! but there’s a certain peculiarity to his old wan that screams yucky weirdo uncle.. might be dat wack ass hair and outfit GIGGLING he looks laik a vampire too !!! they’re both in special parts of my heart…. 🩷

I AMMM DOING SPLENDID and oh my lordy lord i forgot to drink water today THANK you for the reminder LMHREKSLFG i promise that’s not usually like me.. I HOPE YOU ARE DOING THE SAME HOWEVER !!!!!! please take lots o care!!!! >.<

THE. THE WESKER SCENARIO. IM SAT.!!!!??? TENTACLES,, ESPECIALLY FROM UROBOROS,,, ARE THE WAY TO MY HEART …. THE SUPERIORITY COMPLEX. BY JOVE!!! he’s so narcissistic and he’d probably tell you to be thankful that he chose you to have his kids… anyone would die for a chance like that!! (he is NOT wrong HEL))

his freaky ass would probably even put a shock collar on you,… god forbid you do anything that’s remotely out of line! AND ESPECIALLY god forbid you go near chris he’ll actually tweak the fuck out … i want wesker to stab me and say it was my fault for pushing him i CANNOT lie.. laik yur rite king i’m sorryIMSO SANE IM SO SANY

nell i’m hugging yu so tightly rn this crumb of thought was yumy… i lauv wesker so badly….sighs dreamily💔💔💔

[wingsofkpop]

Hiraeth - I.IX: Bloodborne

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatural!AU, Dark Magic!AU, heavy Angst, eventual Smut

warnings: Mature language, mentions of death and murder, violence, explicit descriptions of fighting, blood and gore, some satanic themes, mentions of trauma, etc. 

word count: 6,5k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

“—so once Youngjae channels enough power from the blood moon tonight, he’ll be able to lower the veil between the Other Side and the physical plane long enough to resurrect your spirit into a mortal body.” You explain, glancing over your notes at the unusually quiet figure sitting on your bed. Something about his expression seems distant—almost sorrowful. 

After your return from the hospital, and after the long chat with your roommate convincing her that your absence all night was due to a last minute work emergency, a certain ghost phased into your bedroom. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be this concerned, but during his visits, Jackson usually never shuts up. If you were all alone with no one to talk to, you probably wouldn’t either. 

You lower your notebook and shake your head, “You haven’t said one word since you showed up. What’s wrong?”

Jackson purses his lips, as if nervous to relay the thoughts swirling through his mind. Another brief moment of silence passes before he finally murmurs, “It’s the witches. They’re starting to get suspicious again… I don’t know how long I have before they figure out I’ve been crossing over to this plane.”  

“Then we’ll just have to bring you back before they find out.” You grab your phone from your desk, checking through your notifications to see if a certain siphoner has yet responded to your dozens of texts and calls. No dice. 

You haven’t been able to reach Youngjae since yesterday morning, which is odd considering the guy is the type to respond within three seconds of receiving a message. It would be one thing if he let you know that he’s busy, but it’s complete radio silence. It’s not like Youngjae at all. 

“You’re worried about something.” 

Your eyes dartup at Jackson’s observation, discovering his concerned gaze focused on you. 

“It’s Youngjae.” You sigh, “I haven’t heard from him, but I’m sure he’s just busy brewing potions or something.” You expect to earn at least a chuckle from the ghost, but his silence remains along with the blank expression along his face. His same distant demeanor also lingers, and this time, your concern grows to panic. “What is it, Jackson? What’s going on?” 

“I didn’t want to say anything cause I was sure it was all in my head, but I feel that something is… weird.” 

“Weird?” 

“It’s hard to explain.” He continues, “But as a ghost, I can feel things around me… like right now, the universe just seems off—” His voice cuts out as he frantically shakes his head, “Anyway, I just want you to be careful. Mark used to tell me that disrupting the balance of nature is like opening Pandora’s box.” 

“Yeah. We will be doing none of that.” You set your phone down before crossing the room to kneel in front of Jackson. A grin lifts to your lips as you hum to the ghost, “So what do you feel when you’re around me?...” 

Jackson raises an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?” 

“You said you feel things around you… Do you feel anything special when you’re with me?” 

You’re surprised at the eagerness that swells in your chest as he takes his time to think over your question. The inquiry was supposed to be a joke to lighten the mood, but you’re actually curious about your companion’s ghastly perceptions. After maybe a minute or two, Jackson sends you a small smile: 

“I feel… light.” 

“Light? What is that supposed to mean?” 

“You have this aura around you.” Jackson affirms, mindlessly reaching forward thumb at your cheek. You obviously can’t feel his touch, but something in your gut tells you that if you could, you would feel nothing but warmth. “I feel powerful when I’m with you…” 

“Is that a good thing?”  

He grins, “I think so.” 

You continue to stare at one another for a moment, almost attempting to read the depths in each other’s eyes. It’s not until a harsh knock resonates from the front door do you finally break the gaze, offering Jackson a final hum, “I’ll bring you back as soon as I can. I promise.” 

Jackson nods, “I know you will. But like I said, please be careful.” 

“I will. See you soon.” You wait for Jackson to disappear completely before exiting your bedroom, cursing Sana for leaving you to deal with whoever is incessantly banging on your door. It’s probably the old lady from across the hall wanting to borrow another cup of sugar. You roll your eyes at the thought and open the door, ready to politely decline your neighbor’s request.

Your words die on your tongue—definitely not the old lady from across the hall.  

“Mark? What are you—?” 

“What? Not expecting to see me?” Mark’s hostile growl takes you by surprise, as does the furious expression etched along his features. “That’s not surprising since you’ve been ignoring me.” 

“I’ve been busy.” 

“Oh. I’m sure.” 

You cross your arms over your chest. “What the hell is your problem?” 

“You wanna know what my problem is?” Mark takes a step closer to you before pointing a finger in your direction, “The fact that you not only lie to me, but you go behind my back and then deliberately avoid me for days on end.” 

“What are you even talking about, Mark?” 

“I’m talking about you and Youngjae playing God and resurrecting Jackson.” 

Your muscles instantly freeze, as if Mark had taken a tub of ice water and thrown it over your head. The annoyance inside your chest shifts to guilt, and your once cold features cannot help but soften. 

You shake your head, “Mark, I—” 

“Do you know how dangerous it is to bring someone back from the dead, (Y/N)?” Mark lowers his voice, but his tone remains as frigid as his gaze. “Do you know the consequences that happen when you fuck with the balance of nature?” 

“I get that, but—it’s complicated, Mark… There’s things you don’t understand—” 

“I don’t understand!?” He scoffs, “Last I checked, I’m the goddamn witch here, (Y/N)! You know nothing about magic and its sacrifice!” 

“Maybe not, but I do know that there is a chance I could bring Jackson back!” You shake your head again, “Please, just give me a chance to explain—” 

“No. Because it’s not fucking happening.” Mark interrupts, furiously shaking his own head. “I forbid you to do this.” 

It’s like a switch goes off in your mind. Your guilt immediately transforms, but this time, it configures into rage: 

“You forbid me!? Who the flying fuck do you think you are!?”

“I won’t sit back and allow you to get yourself killed—!” 

“And last I checked, you don’t have the right to control what I do and the decisions I make!” You seethe, stepping further back into your apartment. “This is my choice. I’m resurrecting Jackson whether you like it or not.” 

“Fine! Get yourself fucking killed for all I care!” The witch raises his hands in mock surrender. “At least then I won’t have to deal with your reckless, moronic ass!”

“Fuck you, Mark.” You don’t allow the witch to say anything further and slam the door in his face. Your chest remains unbearably heavy, both physically and mentally, but you ignore the sweltering emotions and begin to traverse around the apartment, gathering your bag and other assorted belongings. 

A confused and rather concerned Sana emerges from her bedroom a few seconds later. “Are you okay? What was with all that yelling?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” You huff, shoving your arms through the sleeves of your jacket. “Just Mark being a douchebag, as per usual.” 

“Where are you going?” 

“To find Youngjae.”

“Isn’t it kind of late?” 

“I’m an adult, Sana.” You snap before throwing your bag over your shoulder. “Don’t wait up for me.” 

Similar to Mark, you don’t allow Sana the chance to question you further and sprint out the front door, praying that Youngjae will be up to bringing Jackson back in the next few hours. 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Mark has never exercised the greatest control over his emotions. It first began when he was twelve, after his dad walked out on his mom. He found himself sobbing his eyes out some days, and beating the shit out of other kids on others. His mood ranged from intense rage to extreme depression. There was no in between. 

In an effort to help, his mom enrolled him in a program designed to teach teens how to handle their emotions. But to no one’s surprise, the therapy didn’t do shit and Mark continued to initiate fights and cry himself to sleep most nights. He never understood why he felt this way—he still doesn’t, to be honest. His dad and him were never close, nor did he ever really care about his sudden departure. Maybe he was just an angry kid with depression. Maybe it was something else. 

It wasn’t until his mom was killed did Mark begin to pull his life together, which also happened to be around the same time he met the too-friendly, homeschooled kid with an ego the size of Jupiter, Jackson Wang. Sure, the two of them butted heads every so often, but with Jackson being a werewolf, Mark learned the importance of managing the chaos within. ‘Emotion is like a loaded gun,’ he remembers Jackson once said, ‘If you let yourself pull the trigger without first aiming down sights, then you risk sinking a bullet into someone you love.’ Those words remain with him—remind him what means to stay in control. 

But when it involves the people he loves, Mark can’t always regulate the ticking bomb counting down in his soul. 

An ache settles in his chest as he recalls the passionate fire in your gaze. There’s always been some parts of you that reminds Mark of his past friend, specifically your stubbornness and inability to think before you act. He’s never found himself hating those parts of you until now—and he shouldn’t, Mark knows that, but he’s so fucking angry and so fucking scared of losing yet another one of the most important people in his life.

He’s experienced his fair share of loss, but losing you… It would break him. Completely. 

Mark tries to push the intrusive thoughts from the forefront of his mind and focus on navigating his way through the dark maze of headstones and crumbling tombs. Right after you slammed your front door in his face, he received a text from Youngjae summoning him, Jisung and Lia to an emergency meeting at the edge of the cemetery. He’s still mad at the siphoner for assisting with your reckless scheme, but he won’t allow his pettiness to interfere with the safety of the coven. 

A sigh falls from his lips—he does regret ever saying those ending words to you though… because what if they’re the last ones you hear from him. 

‘I’m so sorry, Jackson…’ 

Mark’s misery is forgotten when he notices a group of people up ahead. He recognizes Lia, Jisung and Youngjae flocked together inside a chalk-white circle surrounded by lit torches. For a moment, Mark wonders if they’re in the middle of performing some type of seance, but his curiosity dwindles into confusion when he grows aware of the panic present in each set of their features. 

He breaks into a sprint to cover more distance, approaching the strangely placed trio in no time. At the sight of him, Lia immediately bursts into tears, furthering the anxiety bubbling at the back of his throat. 

“What the hell is going on!?” 

“Hyung! You have to get out of here right now!” Mark notices the swollen, angry flesh of Youngjae’s bottom lip as he speaks, along with the ugly bruise underneath his left eye. 

“What happened?” He ignores the siphoner’s warnings, attempting to reach inside the circle and grab Lia’s arm. However, his hand is met with resistance—a boundary spell. “Who did this to you?” 

Lia sobs, “Just go, Mark! Before he hurts you!” 

“Before who hurts me!? What are you—” His demands die in his throat as another figure appears from behind a large, marble gravestone. He immediately recognizes the newcomer, which sends even more confusion through his veins. “Seo Changbin? What the hell is this?” 

“It’s an emergency meeting, hyung.” Mark feels his entire body freeze when the familiar, conniving voice enters his ears. “You had me a little worried… I almost thought you wouldn’t show up.” 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Mark whirls around to face a smirking Minho cockily leaning against the wall of an empty tomb. “What kind of game do you think you’re playing, Minho?”

The younger witch shrugs before pushing off the wall to pace around the area. As he draws closer and closer, Mark can spy an ancient, navy blue ring sitting heavily on his forefinger. He’s never seen any piece of jewelry like it before, but something in his gut told him it wasn’t just a simple ring—and that he’s definitely in some kind of trouble. 

“Mind explaining to me what we’re doing here? Or are you just going to continue pacing around the place like a cocky bastard?” 

“Tonight is a special night, hyung… You wanna know why?” He watches Minho point to the night sky, “In just a few minutes, the moon will drift into the Earth’s shadow and the light of the sun will reflect across the moon’s surface, thus causing a blood moon… It’s actually pretty cool—” 

“For Christsake, Minho—get to the goddamn point.”

“You know, for years I had to deal with all your bullshit excuses and justifications of putting our coven in danger—it was only a matter of time until one of us ended up dead, don’t you think?” 

A bitter memory of Nayeon’s corpse resurfaces, but Mark remains silent. 

“Everyone was too fucking blind, but I saw right through you.” Mark doesn’t move a muscle when Minho suddenly approaches, crowding his space until his nose is mere inches from brushing his own. The younger witch’s harsh glare bleeds into his soul as he continues, “You’re a poor fucking excuse for a leader, hyung—a leader who can’t even protect his own people.” 

“And you think you can do better, huh?” Mark growls, glaring his own daggers into Minho’s gaze. “You have no fucking clue what it takes to run this coven… Admit it, you’re just pissed they chose me over you.” 

“And look where that got them.” 

“You need to cut out whatever petty bullshit this is and let Youngjae, Jisung and Lia go.” Mark murmurs, “Whatever problems you have are with me, so let’s just talk it out, okay?” 

“Oh, Mark-hyung…” Minho’s gaze is unwavering from his own as he lifts a hand to rest on Mark’s shoulder. It’s a second too late that Mark realizes it is the same hand in which holds the mysterious ring: 

“I’m over talking it out.” 

Youngjae’s screams and Lia’s sobs echo in his ears along with the words that spill from Minho’s lips—they’re foreign, but Mark recognizes the spell right away. He tries to squirm and fight against the perpetrator’s grip, but another pair of hands keep his body in place—Changbin. 

Bit by bit, Mark feels the buzz of his magic lift from his veins like a flock of doves. His limbs grow weak and his head fuzzy. Soon enough, his own knees no longer bear the strength to hold his weight. Once both Minho and Changbin release him, Mark collapses to the ground—empty and unable to rise. 

“What did you do to him!?” Mark hears Jisung’s voice for the first time, although his brain is not fully able to comprehend the inquiry. 

“I took his magic. He won’t be needing it anymore.” 

Mark manages to find enough strength to reposition his body in a way that allows him to watch both Minho and Changbin approach a makeshift altar composed of an old, concrete coffin. Through the blur of his vision, he catches the witch stirring some kind of crimson mixture—likely blood. Minho looks to the moon, which is slowly brightening to a shade of maroon, before resting his gaze on his companion: 

“It’s time.” He offers the mixture to Changbin, “Once you drink this, I can begin the transformation.” 

“And you’re sure this spell will give me everything I need to take down the Primes?” 

“One hundred percent.” 

Take down the Primes?… Fucking hell. 

“Minho! Don’t do this!” Mark can’t make out his own voice between the ringing of his ears and the beating of his heart, but he can only hope they’re audible enough for his audience. “The transformation—it won’t work!” 

Youngjae shakes his head. “I don’t understand… What are you talking about, hyung?” 

“He’s going to try to recreate the spell I used on Jackson on Changbin.” With a huff and a puff, Mark pushes himself to his hands and knees. He attempts to crawl forward, but the spinning of his head sends his body sprawling along the ground once again. He abandons any more thoughts of movement and speaks to Minho directly, “It will kill him—do you understand me!? You can’t—” 

“You failed because you couldn’t draw enough power to complete the transformation.” Minho doesn’t even bother to look in his direction, “It will work—I know it will.”

Understanding there’s no possible way to convince the witch, Mark looks to the werewolf instead, “I’m warning you, Changbin! If you go through with this, you will die!” 

“Don’t listen to him. Just drink the blood.” 

“No! For fucksake, this is suicide!” 

“Think of Jackson.” Minho murmurs to a torn Changbin, reaching across the altar to place a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Do it for him.” 

“Changbin, don’t—!” 

Mark watches in horror as Changbin throws back the mixture and downs its entirety in two gulps. His heart shatters like the glass vial the werewolf launches to the ground. He peers to his left, discovering the same shocked expressions across Youngjae, Jisung and Lia’s faces, and shakes his head in defeat as Lia begins to sob again. 

“Filia maximo… Filia maximo… Morsus, morsus—” The wind begins to screech as Minho chants, tearing at Mark’s hair and nudging at his clothes, as if pleading for him to stop the spell. But there’s nothing he can do. For once, Mark is powerless. “—morsus… Advenio donec duo est revertus mors…” With a loud scream, Changbin collapses to the earth. He squirms and writhes in pain underneath the flaming light of the moon—and Mark can’t help but attempt to block out the snaps of his cracking bones. 

The scene seems to last for hours until Changbin eventually grows silent. Mark takes the time to catch his breath, unable to control his lungs over the anxiety, fear and nausea lurking through his veins. He wants to look away from the still werewolf, but his gaze is as frozen as the rest of his body. 

His eyes burn with tears of rage—Changbin is dead. Another person died because of his own fucking stupidity. Mark should have known this would happen again. He should have stopped it. He should have—

His thoughts disappear as Changbin suddenly gasps for air. For a moment, he claws at the earth as if attempting to ground himself, before he finally, albeit shakily, climbs to his feet. Minho cautiously approaches the wolf, peering down at the shorter male with a gaze full of concern. 

“How do you feel?...” 

“I feel…” Changbin flexes his fingers again, before closing them into tight fists. The moonlight illuminates the crimson glow of his irises and the sharpness of his long, black fangs as he faces the witch—a malicious smirk spreading along his lips as he chuckles, “I feel like kicking some ancient Prime ass.” 

Mark can’t find the strength to watch anymore and allows his head to lower to the earth. Just before his eyes flutter shut, he swears he spots the movement of shadows from behind a nearby headstone. But before he can confirm his suspicions, his head takes one final spin and the world grows dark. 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

June 13th, 1769 — As much as I enjoy the atmosphere of Paris, I believe it is time to progress onto another part of the world. Some of the townsfolk are beginning to grow suspicious, considering I appear twenty years younger than my supposed age. Nevertheless, I will not mind a new start elsewhere. Jaebeom, on the other hand, will be a terror to convince. As he claimed last time I brought the idea to light, ‘There will never be a place more beautiful than Paris.’

But I know he is not through playing with his newest toy—Tzuyu. 

I set sail for the newlands tomorrow at sunrise. Whether my brother decides to accompany me or not is solely his preference. It would be pleasant to spend some time apart—to spend some time in peace—but I know, with many complaints and reluctance, Jaebeom will board the ship tomorrow. Wherever I traverse, he follows, and vice versa. We are family, after all. 

I will miss Notre Dame the most. I have grown used to visiting the Cathedral and repenting my wrongdoings to the high priest. Of course, I am forced to erase his memory of our talks each time, but it is nice to confess. It lifts a weight off of the shoulders, takes away a small portion of the guilt. If there is a god, he would never allow a creature like me to walk amongst his heavens—but at least I can salvage the lingering hope left inside of my soul. Speaking of hope, I thought I saw a woman that resembled Irene during my daily visit to the church. I find it amusing that after all these years, my heart continues to yearn for her presence. She was truly special—I wonder if she ever thought the same of me. 

I’ve heard some of the sailors refer to a shore in the newland that has yet to be claimed. It may be the perfect location for Jaebeom and I to start anew.  I can only hope it is as beautiful as people say. Maybe I will construct a place of worship as stunning as the Cathedral. 

Isn’t that ironic?... A vampire who believes in faith. 

Jinyoung finishes the entry with a sigh, welcoming the nostalgia that spreads through his thoughts like an old friend. It seems just yesterday that he recorded his first thoughts about the land that would become Moon Dye Bay. He shakes his head, carefully setting the old journal back on the bookshelf. 

He never did build that church. 

“Reminiscing again, brother?” The moment is ruined when a certain hybrid’s snicker reaches his ears. Jinyoung rolls his eyes as Jaebeom takes residence beside him, dragging his fingers along the spines of Jinyoung’s other diaries. “We did have some great times back in the 18th century… Remember our battles during the French Revolution? I rather enjoyed King Louis and Marie Antoinette’s executions.” 

“You enjoy anything that involves bloodshed.” 

“Don’t be so resentful, Jinyoungie. It’s not my fault that the queen had you in her interests.” 

Jinyoung shakes his head before retreating to his desk to fix himself a drink. “The woman was as shallow as a poor soul’s ego. She was taken with any man who’d pay her the time of day. It was a miracle her death came as quickly as it did.” 

“Careful there. You sound like me.” 

Jinyoung deliberately chooses not to respond to Jaebeom’s comment and proceeds to pour two glasses of bourbon. He ignores his companion’s wide smirk as he hands him one of the drinks. Both the vampire and the hybrid simultaneously take a sip, peering at one another over the rims of their cups. Jaebeom is the first to break the silence with a pleased inhale and a hum: 

“You returned pretty late last night. I hope you used protection during your time with (Y/N).” 

“Mind your tongue, hyung.” Jinyoung warns, “I brought (Y/N) to the hospital after the attack—I trust you took care of Tzuyu?” 

Jaebeom smirks. “Of course. She won’t be alive long enough to target your newest Maria Antonia again.” 

About to inhale another sip of his bourbon, Jinyoung pauses to mull over the answer. He lowers his glass to his side before delivering Jaebeom a confused expression and a murmured inquiry, “What do you mean she won’t be alive?” 

“Tzuyu and I got into an argument and, well, she pissed me off.” Jinyoung watches Jaebeom down the rest of his drink. 

“Please tell me you didn’t bite her, Jaebeom-hyung.” He curses at the widening of Jaebeom’s smirk, slamming his glass back down on his desk with enough force to crack its exterior. “When I told you to deal with her, I didn’t mean condemn her to a fate of pain. If you wished to kill her, you could have at least been merciful and done it quick.” 

“Last I checked, you said it yourself not to be kind.” Jinyoung follows Jaebeom as he pours himself another drink and collapses onto a brown, leather sofa. He tips his glass toward him with a smile before continuing, “I thought the punishment fit the crime, and we wouldn’t want to put helpless, human (Y/N) in danger again, would we?” 

“You turned it off, didn’t you?” Jinyoung realizes, “Does holding onto your humanity wound you that badly, hyung? That you have no choice but to wish it away?” 

“If I remember correctly, I’m not the only one that can’t hold onto their humanity… How many people did you kill in the ‘20s alone? One thousand? Maybe two?” 

Jinyoung shakes his head, “I’m not that person anymore.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” In the blink of an eye, Jaebeom is in front of Jinyoung—his glass in pieces on the floor beside him. He leans in until Jinyoung can taste the alcohol of his breath on his tongue, then whispers darkly, “You can lie to yourself all you fucking want, Jinyoung. But deep down, you’ll always know what you are… let’s just hope (Y/N) never finds out, hm?” 

At the mention of your name, Jinyoung’s anger expands. He suppresses the urge to take the table beside him and smash it over the hybrid’s head, and instead inhales a deep breath. Jaebeom is only trying to provoke him—and he refuses to be a pawn in his foolish games. 

“You will remember what it was like to feel human again.” Jinyoung sighs, “For your sake, I hope your remembrance comes sooner rather than later.” 

Jaebeom tsks, “Being human is overrated.” 

“He said the same thing about fate.” Both Jinyoung and Jaebeom whirl around at the appearance of a third voice. Jinyoung feels his blood begin to boil at the sight of the familiar vampire in the doorway, once again, suppressing his desire to launch a piece of furniture in her direction. “Ironically, fate and humanity are a package deal.” 

Jaebeom growls, “What the fuck are you doing here, Tzuyu?” 

“I came to try and convince you to give me your blood.” Tzuyu coughs, and Jinyoung swears he can hear the rattle of her bones. “But judging by your attitude, that’s obviously going to be harder than I thought.” 

“You have courage for showing your face again.” Jinyoung crosses his arms with a dark hum, “Especially so soon after you nearly killed (Y/N).”

“It wasn’t my intention to kill her. I just wanted to send a message.” 

“Is that so?” With a malicious glare, Jinyoung steps forward and tilts his head toward the vampire, “And what kind of message was that?” 

“For (Y/N) to stay away from Jaebeom.” Another violent cough wracks through Tzuyu’s thin form, causing a light stream of blood to splatter from her lips. She wipes her mouth with a ragged breath before continuing, “Look, I did it for her own good. We all know his track record at keeping humans alive.” 

“You did it to protect her!?” Jaebeom cackles, “Wow! That’s fucking priceless!” 

“Say what you will, you both know I’m right.” Tzuyu says, propping herself up against a nearby bookshelf. “It’s either she ends up dead or is turned into a vampire—then again, there’s not much of a difference between the two, is there?” 

“I would die before I allow (Y/N) to come to any harm.” 

“The only issue with that is you can’t die, Jinyoung.” Jinyoung doesn’t take his eyes off Tzuyu as she grabs a bottle of brandy from the top shelf. It takes her literal seconds to unscrew the cap and down a good portion of the container. She licks her lips and says, “I’m sorry I attacked (Y/N), okay? I went too far. I won’t do it again.” 

“You think an apology is enough to save your life?” Jaebeom snickers before snatching the alcohol from the vampire, “Think again, sweetheart.” 

“What do you want from me, Jaebeom? Does seeing me die a slow, painful death bring you joy?” 

He shrugs, “No one mourns for the wicked.” 

“Is he always this much of an asshole?” 

Jinyoung chuckles, “Pretty much.” 

“Great.” The vampire breathes out a sigh and cards her fingers through her hair. After a brief moment of silence, she directs her attention back to Jaebeom and pleads—her voice packed with desperation and fear, “What can I do to convince you to let me live? Please, Jaebeom… I don’t want to die.” 

“You should have thought about that before you touched what I told you not to.” Jinyoung remains quiet as Jaebeom lifts a hand to grasp Tzuyu’s jaw. The dying visitor remains unphased, proceeding to glare at the hybrid with hateful, yet oddly sorrowful eyes. “I suggest you show yourself out before I end your life sooner.” 

“You’re going to lose everything one of these days, Jaebeom.” Tzuyu shakes her head sadly, wiping away a layer of cold sweat from her forehead. “You’re going to lose everyone, even your brother, and you’re going to be alone. For an eternity.” 

“Save the monologue.” Jaebeom waves dismissively, taking a sip of the brandy before returning it back to its shelf. “Petty isn’t a good look for you, baby.” 

“Fuck you, Jaebeom.” Tzuyu goes to stomp out the door, but something—someone blocks her path. The atmosphere changes when Jinyoung notices your panicked form, practically gasping for air and cross-eyed, standing in the doorway. He immediately speeds to your side without hesitation, grasping your hands in hopes to ground you. 

He stares into your eyes, “What is it, (Y/N)? What’s wrong?” 

“You and Jaebeom have to get the hell out of here! Right now!” 

Jaebeom shakes his head in confusion, “What the hell are you talking about?” 

“I don’t know what exactly happened but Minho turned Changbin into this dark werewolf creature or-or something… I do know, however, that Changbin is on his way right now to kill you both.” Jinyoung steps back at the intensity of your explanation, unable to think of a response over the roar of his thoughts. Through his peripheral vision, he can spot the same type of speechlessness across Jaebeom’s face. 

Not again… 

“That’s stupid… You realize nothing can kill them, right?” Tzuyu scoffs. 

“This is different.” You urge, “I saw Changbin—he wasn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before… The spell that Minho used, it was-was—” 

“Dark magic.” Jinyoung finishes blankly, “The spell was dark magic.” 

“Yes… which means you and Jaebeom need to leave town as fast as you possibly can before—” 

“I don’t think anyone is going anywhere, (Y/N).” Jinyoung’s entire body grows stiff as a new voice echoes throughout the study. He cautiously turns his head, discovering none other than the young werewolf in question resting among the shadows. His eye also catches the open window a few inches away, and he curses himself for ever wanting to feel the nightly draft. 

Changbin’s smirk is as dark as his eyes. 

“What?... Not going to offer me a drink?” 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“(Y/N)! Get out of here! Now!” Jaebeom hears Jinyoung scream as the werewolf suddenly launches forward, knocking his brother into the bookshelf behind him. The wood completely splinters beneath the impact, raining down an array of books and planks on Jinyoung’s body. Changbin turns to Jaebeom next, but the hybrid is ready—and pissed off. 

Jaebeom speeds toward the intruder and delivers a swift kick to the gut. Changbin flies back at the force, crashing back through the window with a loud growl. Sensing the urgency in time, Jaebeom quickly throws Jinyoung’s immobile body over his shoulder and urges both you and Tzuyu out the study door. 

“Come on! We gotta go!” 

“Jaebeom! What the hell is happening!?” He ignores Tzuyu’s fearful ask and proceeds to lug Jinyoung through the maze of hallways and down the staircase, you and the female vampire hot on his heels. He doesn’t know exactly where he’s going, but he makes his way to the parlor where he props Jinyoung up against a nearby chair before turning to you: 

“You need to leave. I will deal with this.” 

“No way. I’m not going anywhere.” Jaebeom curses your stubbornness inside his head, sending a stern glare in your direction. Your expression remains fixated, and he can’t help but wish your presence in any other situation but now. 

“I can’t protect you right now—” 

“And I can’t sit back and watch you get yourselves killed!” You shake your head indignantly, “I’m staying!” 

“Fucking hell, (Y/N)! Get your ass out that door before I throw you out myself!” 

“Jaebeom, watch out!” At Tzuyu’s cue, a wooden branch comes soaring in through the window. Jaebeom immediately throws himself against you, effectively forcing your body to the ground to dodge the projectile. He can feel your fear through the trembling of your limbs and hurried breaths, but it only brings him more determination to tear apart his attacker. 

He shakes his head in surrender, “You stay on the fucking ground, understand? Don’t you fucking dare move a muscle.” He doesn’t bother to wait for a response and pushes himself back to his feet. 

Tzuyu is huddled in a corner, and Jinyoung has yet to awaken from his crash landing back in the study. Jaebeom tries to focus his senses on detecting the werewolf, but he can’t seem to hear anything past the beating of his own heart. He carefully makes his way over to the incapacitated vampire, attempting to force him back to consciousness. 

“Now is really not the time for a fucking nap, Jinyoung.” He hisses, “I swear to god, if I have to save your ass one more time—” Another wave of tree branches come crashing through the windows. Unfortunately, Jaebeom is not as quick and one catches his shoulder at just the right angle. He feels the wood sink into his flesh, painfully carving into his bones. With a low groan, Jaebeom manages to grab the makeshift stake and remove it in one hefty pull. 

He tosses it away with a yell, “You gonna hide like a little bitch!? Or are you gonna come out and fight like a man!?” 

“Be careful what you wish for, asshole!” Jaebeom turns just in time to discover the werewolf emerging from a shattered window. His blood boils when he notices the sadistic grin along the young kid’s face—he wonders how those teeth will look strewn across the parlor floor. 

Changbin comes at him fast, much faster than Jaebeom could have predicted. He manages to dodge a set of jabs, but he’s not so lucky when Changbin lands a heavy hit against the side of his face. Pain erupts through his jaw as he collapses to the floor, but Jaebeom doesn’t have the chance to dwell over it and rolls out of the way just as the werewolf attempts to stomp his nose. 

Jaebeom tries to speed away again, but like before, his counterpart is faster. Changbin manages to force him to the floor for a second time, pinning his body down with his own. Horrified, the hybrid watches as the werewolf’s eyes glow blood red and large, pitch black fangs emerge past his parted lips. Once again, he attempts to break free, but it’s no use—Changbin is too strong. 

Just when he believes the wolf’s fangs are going to sink into his neck, another form knocks Changbin away. Jaebeom hurriedly props himself on his arms in time to watch Tzuyu deliver a series of hits and kicks to the perpetrator, eventually slamming his head into a nearby armoire. Taking advantage of the moment, she turns from Changbin to Jaebeom instead: 

“Grab Jinyoung and (Y/N) and run!” She screams, “Get the hell of here!” 

Unable to move, Jaebeom remains as Tzuyu attempts to fight off the wolf. But with the combination of his ultimate strength and her weakness from Jaebeom’s venom, her defeat is inevitable. He watches in terror as Changbin sinks his teeth into the vampire’s arm before yanking her head forward and effectively snapping her neck. Jaebeom feels his insides practically soar with rage when the attacker tosses a comatose Tzuyu across the room like a useless toy. 

“I’ll kill you…” He sneers, allowing his own supernatural features to overtake his face. “I’ll fucking kill you…” 

Changbin shakes his head with a smirk, “I’d like to see you try.” 

Using the little agility he has left, Jaebeom grabs one of the branches and speeds toward the wolf. Due to Changbin’s movements, he misses his chest, but manages to stab the weapon in his stomach. Changbin releases a pained groan, allowing Jaebeom to take advantage of his surprise and land another array of uppercuts to his face. Just when he finally thinks he has the upper hand, his opponent blocks one of his hits and pins him against a wall with a hand around his throat. 

“Any last words, Prime?”

“You really think you can kill me?” Jaebeom growls, squirming against Changbin’s hold. 

“I know I can… Have fun rotting in Hell—fuck!” 

Shock spills through Jaebeom’s veins as the point of branch suddenly appears through the center of the wolf’s chest, splattering red across both of their bodies. Changbin’s grip releases, allowing the hybrid to quickly speed out of his reach. Once he’s a safe distances away, Jaebeom looks to his savior, discovering the one person he never expected to see—

You stand over Changbin’s body—chest heaving and bloodied hands trembling. Your eyes are glassy when Jaebeom meets your gaze, and for some reason, he feels the urge to go and pull your form into a tight embrace. Your voice, however, returns his mind to reality: 

“Did I… Did I kill him?” 

“I don’t think so.” Jaebeom answers, nursing his wound with his own shaky fingers. “We need to get out of here—get somewhere safe.” 

“Good idea.” You trudge over to where Jinyoung is still unconsciously laid across the chair. Jaebeom follows your lead and hurries over to a lifeless Tzuyu. “I know somewhere we can go… but I don’t think you’re going to like it.” 

“(Y/N)... There is an immortal, unkillable super wolf out to kill me and my brother currently in my living room…”  He snorts, maneuvering Tzuyu’s body into one arm and assisting you and Jinyoung with the other. 

“Trust me, anywhere is a hell of a lot better than here…”

[transsexualhamlet]

A Defense of Guren Ichinose

Everyone on here is hoping he’ll atone for his sins, that he’ll pay for what he did, that he suffers because of all the hurt he caused.

He knows.

He’s suffered.

Bro’s been fuckin doing that for years.

All of catastrophe at 16, Guren’s entire goal is to save the world. To stop the catastrophe. No matter what it took. He never knew he’d be the one to end the world. Up until the end he’s saying with blood coming out of his mouth, “We... are going... to halt the catastrophe.” But that didn’t happen.

We’ve known from the beginning. Noya always told him, it’s in the manga, he would destroy the world by loving too much. That it would be weakness to do so, that he was too nice. 

“You know, the kinder you are, the further you’ll fall.”

Mahiru killed his friends, she told him that the seraph of the end would bring them back, if she hadn’t said anything he wouldn’t have known, he wouldn’t have done it. But she knew if he didn’t that the Hiragis would come in and do the same thing, and the world would end anyway.

For when Shinya died he forbid Guren from giving up on life. Forbidding Guren from letting his demon take over, Guren literally staring at Mahiru after she’d slaughtered everyone he loved and refusing to kill her because “shinya would be mad”. He would have just given up and let Noya take him over. But Shinya wouldn’t let him.

He paid with his humanity, his sanity, his dignity, his own conscience. He would much rather give his life to fix it all.

“If this was a dream, Guren wanted it to end. For the last ten years his one wish had been to wake up from the nightmare that was his life, but that nightmare never seemed to end. It only got worse.”

Guren Ichinose pays for what he’s done every time Shinya looks at him, every time Shinya asks what’s wrong, every time he can’t answer. He paid the moment he realized he wouldn’t be able to get close to the friends he’d ended the world to keep. He paid the moment he tried to count how many heartbeats Shinya had left and took his demon’s power to hear it louder because he couldn’t let Shinya know that he cared but he did so much.

Guren Ichinose paid for it when Ferid threatened to kill the unconscious Shinya again and he knew that if Shinya was dead none of it would matter at all, he paid when he gave up his dignity and begged for Ferid to let Shinya go.

Guren Ichinose paid for it when he held Shinya unconscious and cried “It’s my fault... I’m sorry, I... I just wanted a little more time with you and the others. Is that so wrong? Maybe it is. Could you ever forgive me?” And knew that he could never say it out loud.

Guren Ichinose paid when he called himself a real mass murderer, the worst, most despicable killer in history. He paid when he looked at the ruined world and ruled that he had no right to cry.

“He had no right to cry. He was the one who had chosen all of this. He had brought them back. He had violated the taboo. And the world had ended. It had been his choice He had known this would happen and he had done it anyway. He had no one to blame but himself. It was all his fault.

And if he ever told anyone what he had done, if Shinya and the others ever found out, they might disappear again, forever. So he could never speak of it again. He could never complain. Never ask for advice. Could never even appear troubled.... so Guren could never again wrestle with his guilt. He could never cry again for what he had done. This would have to be the last time. This was the last time he would ever have the privelege of crying.

He howled, beating his fists against the earth, choking on his own despair. His cries echoed across the beautiful night sky. But there was no one left to hear him. Everyone was dead. And Guren had killed them.

Guren cried until his throat was ragged, then got back to his feet. His tears had already dried, but he scrubbed his cheeks again and again to make sure no evidence was left. He drew in a deep breath. Let it out again. He was calm now. Ready to shoulder the burden of his guilt.

He thrust out his chin, returned to the elevator, and hoisted his friend over his shoulder. “Shinya, it’s time to live.”

He injects himself with enough sedatives after that to kill an elephant and wants to sleep forever when he wakes up, when he wakes up to see all of them going “wtf the world ended” and he has to fake surprise, he has to calculate which lies to give and he worries that Shinya knows too much, when he’s panicking. When Shinya says “good morning, sleeping beauty” to him and he can’t react too strongly because he’s supposed to pretend. When he’s freaking out going “Shinya’s too smart, Shinya knows me too well, Shinya knows I’m lying and how do I craft another lie underneath it. I already know what you’re going to tell me I did all of it it’s all my fault and I can’t let you know and I have to pretend that I’m mad at someone else. And I have to pretend like everything isn’t different. And I love my friends so much and I have them back but now i have this giant burden and I can’t betray anything. And they’re telling me to save the world when I was the one who broke it.

When he says how the hell is he supposed to keep a secret from Shinya? How could he ever do it?

The only time when you get to see how much it truly hurts him is in Resurrection at 19. In Vampire Reign, he’s so used to keeping it all inside but he’s still hurting just as bad- you can see it because he knows he’s personally responsible for every second of hurt that everyone around him. He takes all that responsibility and the full weight of the world on his shoulders. He’s trying so hard to fix it and he’s completely willing to give up his own happiness for it, to save his friends and to save the world even if it isn’t his to be happy in anymore. Because it really is his job.

You can tell that’s still exactly how he feels in vampire reign when even after they realize the world would have ended anyway, he still insists that it’s his fault and his responsibility. 

When Shinoa attacks him for using Yu and Guren says “I wouldn’t mind if it was you who killed me.” When he watches Shinya from the other side of the jail cell and lets Shinya cry and point his gun at Guren and Guren says go ahead and kill me because he knows he can’t try to explain his actions. When Shinya says “if you weren’t possessed by your demon then how am I supposed to forgive you” And Guren has to lie and say he wasn’t. Because if they knew about Mahiru they’d die. Guren has to let Shinya hate him. And that’s probably just himself projecting punishment onto himself for what he did.

When he has to attack his own squad when the reach the mansion to knock them out and stop them from figuring it out. When he stares at Shinya’s unconsious body and he’s completely expressionless but you know how terrible he must feel.

When he nearly breaks down in book 14 when his squad keeps asking questions, because they’re getting too close, and he can’t let himself show too much emotion because they’d figure it out but he’s begging them to stop, stop thinking because with one word they could turn to dust.

When Shinya cries out for him in chapter 83 and Guren says “I will always drown in my own power to save you.”

Not to mention the fact that Guren continues to be an atheist even after literally fooling with angels, devils, demons, divine punishment-

He remains saying there is no god in a world so terrible, staring at literal divine beings.

Guren has fucking paid for his sin.

[rosy-cheekx]

“It’s cute that you tried to protect me and all, but you’re like a foot shorter than me, you know?” with jon and anyone??

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28062798

Sooo, here’s the thing. Along the way it became “It’s cute that you tried to attack me and all, but you’re like a foot shorter than me, you know?” The premise is the same but things sorta got out of hand. Either way...Happy Birthday Rye!! This is for you 💕😊

Tim was exhausted. He’d been up late the night before pouring through books on historic architecture, trying to find anything referencing Robert Smirke and his…unique building practices. While he wasn’t usually the one to take work home with him, this statement Jon had recorded, one about Leitner and Gerard Keay and the tunnels underneath the Pall Mall struck a chord with him. It felt just wrong enough to be related to Smirke. So he had been up at all hours, researching Smirke and any associations he may have had with Pall Mall. He had been successful, at the end of it, but had fallen asleep near five and gotten barely four hours of sleep before he was dragged to wretched consciousness again by the sun streaming through his window.

Normally, Tim would grab a coffee on the way to work, but honestly he was nearing a little too close to hand-to-mouth living as it was, especially with their paychecks not being due til next Friday. There was a coffee maker in the Archives breakroom, sputtering as it was. Coffee was coffee and coffee was what Tim needed. It was half eight, a little earlier than most of his crisp, just-late-enough-to-piss-Elias-off-but-not-enough-to-get-called-out-for-it 10:15 arrivals, but it didn’t matter. If he was lucky, no one else would be there.

-

Jon was in the Archives. When wasn’t Jon in the Archives? They were his Archives after all.

Jon blinked and peeled his cheek from the cool metal of his desk, wincing at the ghostly impression left from the heat and oils of his skin. His neck and spine protested in clicks and pops as he straightened himself up, wincing at the angle he had allowed himself to sleep in for so long. It was just after nine, according to the ever-ticking clock above the door to his office, the only door, the door he left propped open unless he was certain he was the only one there. (No one needed to come knocking for him.) He wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep but it had definitely been past midnight, after even Elias had left his office and the hum of The Institute faded to a strangely comfortable silence, nothing but Jon and his files and statements. Just one more statement, he had thought to himself, wearily regarding the ever-growing stack of “To-Do” files in the box on his desk. One more and then I can go home and rest. One more now is one less Elias can ask after, the acknowledgement of Jon’s failure in his voice. Jon wasn’t sure if he had turned the tape recorder off or if he had just run out of tape-did they even run out of tape? They never seemed to. On investigation, the faint snuffling sounds he heard when he played the tape back proved he had forgotten to tur-

Wait. What was that?

Jon frowned and rewound the tape a few minutes, listening intently. There was the unmistakable sound of footsteps, faint but definitely there. Was someone in his archives? Jon pursed his lips and glanced again at the clock. Just after nine, even Sasha wouldn’t be here yet, the punctuality of her 9:25 arrival something you could set a clock to.

Jon glanced around, not really sure what it was he was looking for. Something to defend himself, maybe? He wasn’t sure when he’d decided to identify the source of the sound, but something in his gut had shifted. He settled on grabbing a crutch resting in the corner of his office, abandoned from his recovery after the Prentiss attack.

Armed, Jonathan Sims crept to the door of his office. The automatic lights in the hallway flickered on as he slowly peered down both sides of the hallway, curly hair a mess and swinging unhelpfully by his cheeks. No one. The hallway was empty, no shadows to be seen sweeping menacingly around the corner.

God. He was probably being stupid. It was probably the statements getting to him. But still, something urged the back of his mind. He couldn’t shake the notion he wasn’t alone in the cold, lonely basement.

Cautiously, Jon crept down the hall, holding the crutch first by the handle, then clumsily turning it over to hold it by the base towards the ground. He didn’t make a habit of watching American baseball, but he imagined he looked rather like the players at bat, the rest of the crutch resting on his shoulder, elbows cocked uncertainly.

“Sasha? Martin? Tim?” His voice was somewhere between a croak and a shout, halfway between cowardice and curiosity. No answer, not that he really expected one.

Jon listened intently as he reached the bullpen of the archives, where Tim, Sasha, and Martin’s desks were arranged. It took him a moment to register what was bothering him about the room before he realized it with a start: the lights were on. These were also automatic; Jon knew this from the number of times Tim, Sash, and Martin had burst into laughter and cacophonies of “no!” and “guess we’re done!” whenever they sat still too long, engrossed in their work. Jon had privately wondered if it had been set up to keep them from being productive.

But the lights were on. That meant someone had been through here. And recently. Jon was paralyzed for a moment, wondering what he should do. Call 999? Or Elias? If it was supern—strange, police wouldn’t be able to do much anyways. Furthermore, if he was imagining things, he would never here the end of it from Elias. What if he asked him to step down from the position? No, Jon could handle this. Of course he could. Whatever it was, he needed to see what was happening and could make a decision from there.

He heard a shuffle from the break room, a scuff of shoe on the worn lino. A thief who just decided to stop for a cuppa and sandwich? Well, the breakroom was next to the records room…what if it was a thing here to steal a statement? A thing like Jane Prentiss, or-or a vampire, or, god forbid, Michael?

Jon felt woozy with fear and nervous energy as he crept forward blindly, twisting the crutch in his hands as he approached the open doorway to the breakroom, the light to which was off. This bulb wasn’t auto, unfortunately. As Jon stood in the doorway, he let his eyes adjust the darkness of the small room, blinking nervously and sweeping the room with his eyes desperately, looking for a clue.

There.

A darker blackness in the black, making up a vaguely humanoid shape, standing motionless by the cupboards. Jon tried to speak, to address it, but his voice was barely a whisper, caught in his throat.

“W-Who are you?” No answer. Jon could’ve sworn it shifted towards him, the thing that looked like a head bobbing slightly.

It would take maybe six steps to get there. The light switch was by the fridge, at the other end of the room. Was it worth it? Jon could probably run and flip the switch but the creature would definitely know he was there. Maybe it was better to just run.

Jon was suddenly struck with a terrifying thought as the creature seemed to shift again, shuddering to itself. What if it was Jane Prentiss, lying in wait for Martin any one of them to come back?

He had to attack. Jon steeled himself, tightening his grip on the crutch.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Gahhhhhhhh!” Jon ran forward, swinging his makeshift weapon towards the creature. He watched the shape in the darkness shifted and seemed to compress and duck out of the way of his swinging, in slow motion but all at once. His crutch struck the countertop, and Jon vaguely registered a shattering as something hit the ground

“Jon!”

“…T-Tim?”

The shadow in the darkness shrunk and Jon blinked at the sudden brightness as the light came on, finally recognizing the creature as Tim, eyes wide as he surveyed his boss in front of him, hair mussed from sleep and wielding a crutch like a cricket bat.

“Jon, what the hell?” Tim’s voice was somewhere at the intersection of confusion, anger, and dazed humor, hard to pin down. “What are you doing here?”

“Me? What are you—It’s nine in the morning! How did you get in?” Jon felt all the adrenaline leave his body at once, and he dropped the crutch to the Formica counter he seemed to have chipped, shoulders sagging.

“I-coffee!” Tim gestured to the shattered ruins of a Derwent Water mug, an orange kayak in two distinct pieces as a coffee spread across the tiles slowly. Jon’s face must have shown the incredulity he was feeling, because Tim closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I couldn’t sleep, figured I’d be more use here. Didn’t feel like making a Costa run. That’s second to the real question, though, which would be: Why are you trying to kill me?”

Jon scrubbed his hands over his face; of course it was just Tim. He had been so terrified and it was just Timothy fucking Stoker. “I-I’m sorry, Tim. I heard something on my tape, and I thought there was someone in here…a-and there was. But I mean, someone who wasn’t supposed to be here. I-I did call out, b-but no one answered.” Jon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I thought maybe you were a vampire. Or Michael. Or Jane Prentiss,” he admitted after a moment, voice quieter.

Two beats of silence, three, before Tim’s raucous, barking laughter finally broke the silence.

“Were you going to kill a vampire with a walking crutch?” Tim managed between chuckles, doubling over. “Just-” he makes a sweeping motion with closed fists over each other, “with a bat, like-like a piñata?” He was taken over by giggles again and Jon was left staring blankly, trying valiantly to figure out what was so funny.

“I-I dunno, maybe? I didn’t want to just do nothing.”

“I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t be laughing, it’s-” Tim straightens and gestures at Jon, composing himself. “It’s cute that you tried to attack me and all, but you’re like a foot shorter than me, you know? You’re not exactly physically menacing.”

Jon stared. “I wasn’t trying to be menacing, I was trying-shit.” He felt warm liquid seeping into his socks-how did he just realize he wasn’t wearing shoes- and stumbled back, grabbing for the paper towels on the table. “I was trying to save my own ass. And I’m not that short.” Another snort from Tim, acknowledging and rejecting his argument. “Sorry about your mug,” Jon continued, dropping to a squat to sweep up the milky coffee and ceramic in a bundle of sopping paper.

“Meh, worth it,” Tim shrugged, dropping next to him and spooling towel into his own hands. “Yep,” popped the p. “The image of you baring your teeth at me like a wild dog is totally worth it. Besides, now I have an excuse to ask Sash to buy me a coffee from the posh place near her flat.”

“Oh, no, please. I should buy you something from the Costa down the street. I-! need to get some anyways.” Jon glanced over his shoulder at the doorway to the now unlit bullpen, trying to pretend he didn’t obviously look like he slept here.

“Yeah, no, you look like shit. No offense,” Tim added absentmindedly, pretending not to acknowledge the fact that Jon did not, in fact, drink coffee. “Did you sleep here again?”

Silence as Jon gathered the coffee-soaked towels in his hands and rose, tossing them in the bin by the door.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I wasn’t trying to. I just nodded off. I was recording statements and lost track of time.”

“Ohh, so you heard me come in?”

“Kind of. Heard it on the tape—”

“Hello?” Martin’s voice called out as the bullpen lights flicked on. “Oh, hey Tim, Jon! You two alright?”

“Heya, Marto. Jon and I were just about to hit up the café. Want something?”

Tim got a caramel latte. Jon got a chai. Martin and Sasha got muffins, a very good story, and a lightly blushing (and smiling, though he would deny it) Archivist.

-

Tim was grateful to Jon for never asking why he had stood so long, in silence and dark, staring at his cup of coffee as if it wasn’t even there. He never asked why his shoulders had been heaving and why his eyes were as baggy as they had been. Jon did offer more often, though, to get coffee with him, in the odd mornings that they were both there absurdly early and battling their own demons. Tim always said yes.

[hamiltalian-creates]

Wine Mom Dadceit, Pt 2

Summary: Janus takes his disaster children to the park. Two of them nearly attempt murder and the third meets a new crush friend. 

Pairings: Virgil x Remy, past Janus x Patton

Words: 2,080

Warnings: Misgendering / Attempted deadnaming (They don’t know his actual deadname)

As they pulled up to the house, Janus began setting out the rules for the quick stop.

“Both of you wear what you want to wear to the park and then wait for me in the living room. I’m going to be cleaning up the drinks that I was planning on enjoying earlier and mourning my hot bath.”

“You know, you can take hot baths during the week,” Virgil pointed out. “I mean, you do work from home a lot, aren’t you always saying that nobody can stop you from doing what you want when you work at home?”

Janus sighed and walked with the two boys into the house. “Virgil. The point of the hot bath is to relax away the stresses of the week. How can I do that if I’m working?”

Virgil turned to face him, staring his father dead in the eyes. “Dad, I love you, but if anybody else asks me why I’m so dramatic, I’m going to start writing these kinds of things down to quote back to them.”

“When you’re older, you will understand the importance of self care.” Sure, Janus made sure they knew the value of doing regular self care, but it wasn’t the same as doing self care regimens that were as extra as his own. “You’re going to look back at this conversation one day and realize that I know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Virgil shrugged and walked off, not very sure that he believed that as he went to his room, Remus darting to do the same.

Janus sighed and went to the bathroom, grabbing his water bottle on the way and pouring the drinks into it. They didn’t quite fill the water bottle all the way, so Janus filled the rest of it with orange juice and finished cleaning up the day that he’d previously planned, finding both Remus and Virgil waiting for him once he was done.

“Do I really have to go?” Virgil asked. “I will go back to dad’s and be on my best behavior.”

“Yes, you have to go. It’ll be good for you to go outside for once.” He grabbed his parasol and Remus’s leash, just in case. “Come on, Remus isn’t complaining.”

“Remus doesn’t mind human contact!”

“I want to climb the swing sets!” Remus said, running over to cling onto Janus’s legs. “And the kids are all stinky!”

Janus peeled him off. “No, you’re in trouble. If you so much as think about putting spiders in someone’s hair, it’s the leash for you.”

Remus pouted and followed him as they all walked outside and drove down to the park.

The second that they got there, Remus hopped out of the car and ran to the nearest playground, Janus sighing as he watched. “Well... At least the car was parked this time.”

“I can literally just stay in here the whole time,” Virgil said. “Please.”

“Nope. We’re just going to walk around, you can wear your hoodie, god forbid I make you expose your whole arms to everyone.”

Virgil huffed and got out of the car with Janus, pulling up his hood as he join his dad under the parasol.

“Virgil, I respect that you want nobody to recognize you ever, but aren’t you a little hot in that?..”

“I wouldn’t be if you’d let me stay home.”

Janus rolled his eyes. “I want you to learn a lesson about what happens when you tape children to walls, but I don’t want you to overheat.” Even Janus had switched out his usual long sleeved button up for a t-shirt. It wasn’t particularly hot, but Virgil wasn’t particularly used to being anywhere without air conditioning.

“Fine... I’m going to leave my hoodie in the car, only because my shirt has long sleeves.” Virgil went and sat in the car as he took off his hoodie, glad that this particular purple shirt wasn’t too worn out.

“Isn’t that a little better?” Janus asked as Virgil joined him back under the parasol.

“No.”

Janus tutted. “You’re such a drama queen.”

Virgil shrugged and messed with his fidget cube as they began walking around. “Yeah, I get it from you.”

Janus smiled a bit as they walked. He didn’t particularly like forcing Virgil out of his comfort zone like that, but the poor kid had had a hard time making friends his own age, so it was pretty rare that he went anywhere that wasn’t school. It was tough to get him out during the week, so on the weekends where he took them back early, he made sure to take advantage of it.

About fifteen minutes into their time at the park, Janus was approached by one of the PTA moms from Virgil’s school.

“Oh my goodness, hi! It’s funny running into you two here. You’re the last people I’d expect to see out here, knowing Virgie,” she joked.

Janus faked a smile. He always at least attempted to be civil with any moms he didn’t already have beef with. “Virgil doesn’t do that well in social settings, I know I’ve said it time and time again. I just thought this would be quiet enough.”

“Well, where’s that other kid of yours? He’s always so.. Upbeat at the PTA meetings.”

Janus looked over at the playground where he last saw Remus and saw him running around like a normal kid. “He’s over there, just playing around.”

She looked over and nodded. “It’s good to make him get out all of that energy from time to time, isn’t it?”

“If it’s too much to handle, I guess that would be the best course of action, wouldn’t it?”  

She laughed, though it was pretty clear that she caught onto his passive aggression. “That reminds me, we haven’t seen dear Patty in a while. All of us other PTA moms have to look out for one another, after all.”

That was it. That was the last straw. “Virgil, why don’t you go sit with your brother? I think the two of us have a bit of catching up to do.” He pulled the beanie off of his head and gave it to Virgil, knowing that his son would be too nervous to draw attention with the parasol.

Virgil did not hesitate to take the beanie and leave. As much as he wanted to see his dad fuck someone up, he did not want to be in the direct path of any spilled blood. So, he went over to the playground Remus was at, playing with his fidget cube to distract himself.

Unfortunately, having his face down meant that he couldn’t see a basketball shooting straight for his face until someone caught it, inches from his nose.

“Woah, that was trippy. I mean, I, like, never can catch anything like that.”

Virgil glanced up, his face as pale as a ghost as he realized what had just happened. He almost just got hit in the face by a basketball and this unfortunately cute boy his age just saved him.

“Woah, holy eyeshadow.”

Okay, Virgil had seen enough. He was ready to die.

“I mean, that is an intense look and I’m kind of digging it,” he said as he threw the ball back towards the court. “Now that my jock phase is over, can I get a name? I’m Remy.”

As much as Virgil wanted to quietly walk away, this guy did save his face. “Thank you... I guess since you helped me, I’m Virgil..”

“Virgil, that’s a cute name. What’s a little vampire prince like you doing out here?”

Virgil laughed awkwardly. “I’m just here with my family, I guess...”

“You guess?” Remy asked, pulling off his sunglasses. “That’s a weird thing not to be sure about.”

Virgil shrugged and glanced over at the playground where Remus was at, trying to find him. “It wasn't my choice.. My brother likes it here better than-” Virgil cut himself off as he saw a kid knock Remus off of the playground, feeling himself fill up with rage. “Hey!” He immediately ran over and helped his brother off of the ground, clenching his jaw as he saw some scrapes on Remus’s face.

“It didn’t even hurt!” Remus insisted, though the way he was tearing up said otherwise.

Virgil looked up at the kid who’d knocked him down and glared. “You fucking brat,” he spat out venomously before turning his attention back to Remus. “What happened?” he asked much more softly.

“I told him I had three dads and he pushed me like a coward,” Remus explained through his tears.

“Fucking hell...” Virgil grumbled under his breath. “Come on, let’s go get dad.”  

“No, I’m fine!” Remus kept insisting, wiping his eyes. “Just let me get him back, I’m fine.”

“No, Remus... If I let you keep running around, dad is going to get mad at us both.”

“Hey, is he okay?” Remy asked as he walked up behind Virgil.

“I just have battle scars! I can fight that other guy!” Remus insisted. “I’m fine!”

Remy laughed and knelt down beside the two of them, pulling out a box of band-aids. “I’m, like, a serious clutz, so I carry these around all the time. Do you mind?” he asked Virgil.

“I.. Um... I mean...” Virgil was back to his normal, disaster gay self now that his initial anger wore off.

“I want a band-aid!” Remus said.

Remy smiled and gave Virgil a look, making sure it was okay with him.

Virgil just nodded.

“Well, I don’t see why you can’t have one,” Remy said as he pulled out a band-aid and put it on Remus’s face.

Virgil almost fainted as he noticed that it was a rainbow band-aid.

“Hey, it’s like the flag in Virgil’s roo-”

“Weren’t you going to go torment a child?”

Remus grinned widely as he got permission to do as he please and ran off, chasing down the kid.

“Pfft.. Kids, right?..” Virgil asked, trying to brush it off.

“Oh, I already knew you were gay,” Remy said matter-of-factly. “I saw you walking under a parasol.”

“That was my dad’s idea,” Virgil quickly insisted. “I mean.. Yeah, I’m gay...”

Remy smiled. “Knew it. Anyways, a little information about me: I’m gay, I have band-aids, I’m new in town.”

Virgil couldn’t stop himself from laughing at that. “John Mulaney..”

“It never fails,” Remy said, shrugging.

“What never fails?” Remus asked as he popped up behind them.

Virgil jumped and turned to face him, ignoring the handful of hair hanging out of his pocket. “How long have you been standing there?”

Remus shrugged. “We should go home before that kid’s mom sees that I took his hair.”

Virgil glanced between him and Remy and Remus seemed to catch on quickly.

“Ooh! He’s a homosexual and Virgil’s the homo!”

“Remus!”

Remy quickly stepped in, though this time, it was his turn to start blushing. “So, my brother probably knows that I’ve escaped my grounding by now, do you have a phone number that I can get for my trouble?”

“Uh- Yeah! I mean...” Virgil searched his pockets. “Yeah, but I left my phone in the car...” He checked his back pockets and found his eyeliner pencil. “Would this work for you?..”

“Yeah!” Remy gladly rolled up his jacket sleeve. “Mark me up.”

Virgil nodded and moved to grab Remy’s arm, hesitating as he realized it meant direct physical contact, which he wasn’t too sure that he was ready for.

“Come on, I don’t bite. I, uh.. I kind of feel like that’s your brother’s job.”

Remus smiled proudly.

“Right, yeah, I know that,” Virgil said awkwardly. As quickly as he could without making it seem like he was trying to get away from Remy, he grabbed his arm and wrote his phone number down.

“Great! I’ll text you later if my bro doesn’t chew my head off. I just seriously needed to get outside after all that unpacking.” He got up and grabbed his box of band-aids again, giving a few more to Remus. “You do you, little buddy.”

“Thank you!” Remus took them and immediately began putting them on random spots on his arms and legs.

Remy chuckled and looked back at Virgil one more time. “I’ll talk to you later..”

Virgil nodded and watched as he walked off, thankful that Remus wasn’t making the obvious joke.

Instead, his brother sat down beside him and let him be gay in peace.

Unfortunately, his father didn’t get the memo.

[sunkissedpages]

We’re Only Kidding Ourselves- Part Eighteen || Tom Holland x Reader

A/N: take a shot every time you see the word neck I’m just kidding please don’t you’ll die of alcohol poisoning I can’t have blood on my hands

Prompt: Enemies to lovers au (from @marvelellie‘s 1k writing challenge!!)

Summary: You work as a production assistant for the Spider-Man: Far From Home crew, or rather as Tom Holland’s handler. The two of you don’t get along very well to say the least, but you won’t quit and he can’t fire you so you’re stuck with each other.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of previous smut, use of the word buckwild

What I listened to while writing: the fire alarm from the building over also Hannah Montana

Word Count: 3k

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine| Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen | Part Seventeen

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was that you couldn’t feel your left arm. The second was that you were completely naked. Suddenly everything that had happened last night came rushing back and feelings of longing, regret, and nausea hit you all at once, making you want to close your eyes and pretend none of it had ever happened. But it had. And soon enough Tom would wake up too and you’d have to face the reality of it together, like adults.

But for now, you could process alone. As for your arm, it was being crushed under Tom, who you could only assume was also completely naked under the sheets that were pooled around his waist. You wiggled your fingers slowly underneath him, trying to regain feeling. You didn’t want to wake him, but you needed your arm back. Agonizingly, you pulled your arm from underneath him inch by inch so that you wouldn’t disturb him, before finally rolling over and sitting up.

You bit your lip to stop yourself from gasping out. Your arm wasn’t the only thing that was sore. Your thighs, shoulders, and core all ached as you moved, serving as a reminder of the night before. Had it really been that long? You tried to count back the months in your head. The last time you’d had sex was well before you’d started this job, so apparently yes, it really had been that long. 

A chill ran through your body, making you shiver as you sat on the edge of the bed. You hadn’t realized how warm Tom was until you weren’t touching him anymore. You wanted nothing more but to crawl back under the covers and curl up next to him for the rest of the morning, but you had to be out of this room and at the airport in a matter of hours. 

With a sigh you pushed yourself off the bed and made your way to the bathroom. You did a double take at your reflection in the mirror. You were almost unrecognizable. Your hair was a complete mess, and not in the sensual, post-sex way that everyone else’s seemed to be after getting laid. And as you should have expected, extremely noticeable red and purple marks of varying sizes were littered across your neck and collarbone. 

“What the fuck, Tom, are you a fucking vampire?” you muttered to yourself, poking at the hickeys. They were going to be a bitch to cover up. If you had known how visible they’d be, you would have stopped him. Who were you kidding, no you wouldn’t have. He was too fucking good with his mouth. You bit back another curse. That was a matter for later.

At the present moment you had to focus on washing the chlorine and sweat out of your hair. You turned on the shower and let it warm up before getting in. Once you were in the shower you stood frozen under the water with the realization that no amount of scrubbing was going to wash away the night before. 

Tom was awake but still in bed when you came out of the bathroom wrapped in nothing but a towel. He didn’t even pretend not to enjoy the view, but didn’t say anything to you until you started gathering your clothes in your arms to take back to the bathroom to change.

“You know you don’t have to-“ he paused when you whipped your head towards him. “I mean, doesn’t it seem a bit redundant?” 

You rolled your eyes and dropped the towel right there as if to prove a point. Tom raised his eyebrows, but didn’t look away. You were too tired to feel self-conscious. Tom had already seen you in your most vulnerable state already anyway.

He watched on lazily as you dressed, a soft smile tugging at his lips as you nearly tripped over your sweatpants. 

“Just to be clear,” you said, as you pulled a t-shirt over your head, your voice coming out hoarser than you expected, “what happened last night isn’t happening again. It was a one time thing.”

If you hadn’t known better you might have thought Tom looked a little deflated. But whatever you thought you saw was gone instantly. If you had blinked you would have missed it.

“I believe that’s how one-night stands work, love,” he quipped.

Of course. You’d known him for so long you kicked yourself for thinking any different. Tom wasn’t one to double dip.

“Right.” 

You were the one who made yourself clear about the situation. It was a mistake. It was a moment of weakness. It wasn’t happening again. So why did Tom confirming the fact that you were nothing more than a fling to him make your heart contract in your chest? Maybe because the words you said to each other, the hushed whispers in your ear had led you to believe differently. But Tom told girls what they wanted to hear, and that’s why fell to their knees, quite literally, for him (aside from all the obvious reasons of course).

You turned around to look at your reflection in the mirror next to the television. The hickeys only looked worse after your shower and were peeking out from behind the collar of your shirt in a pattern winding up to your jaw.

“Christ, Tom,” you exclaimed in a hushed whisper. You met his eyes in the mirror. 

“What?”

“You realize anyone with eyes is going to take one look at me and know exactly what happened?’

He squinted at where you were pointing to on your neck and smirked. “You weren’t complaining last night.”

“I was a little preoccupied,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Tom sat up a little more in bed and examined his arms and chest. “What’s the damage on me?”

You crossed the room and climbed back onto the bed next to him to get a better look. There was a few bruises along his hips and chest, but whether they were from stunts or from last night, you weren’t sure. You hadn’t been as generous with your mouth as he had, so there was little evidence you had ever touched him at all, save one small hickey on the place where his jaw met his neck. 

“You’ve just got the one,” you assured him and put a finger to where the bruise had blossomed overnight. He groaned at the pressure and you yanked your hand back, folding it with the other in your lap instead.

“I don’t suppose I can convince you to wear a turtleneck?’ Tom asked with a lopsided grin.

“I will if you will,” you agreed. “We could match.”

“As inconspicuous as that would be, I think you’ll be fine with a hoodie and some makeup.”

“I forgot you’re an expert on the subject,” you said, only half joking. 

Tom gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and shrugged. “What can I say?”

“Please, please make sure you cover yours up too,” you begged, already imagining the headlines that would be all over social media if anyone got a picture of the rosy mark on his neck. Or god forbid, if anyone saw them on both of you and connected the dots. 

“I’m not an idiot, y/n.”

You made a face and Tom picked up a pillow from beside him and chucked it at you in retaliation. 

You caught it easily it back at him with more force, hitting him square in the face. “Come on, get up. We have to be at the airport in an hour.”

“I’m up, I’m up,” he insisted with hands up in surrender and stood from the bed.

You watched him stretch as the sunlight streaming in from the window struck his figure and made his curls look nearly golden. He caught your eye and flexed his abs at you with a smirk. You couldn't deny the heat that rushed to your cheeks or the impulse to lick your lips, but you only rolled your eyes at him and tossed a random pair of his pants from the floor over to him. 

You tried your hand at covering your hickeys with some foundation and concealer, but makeup had never been your specialty. Your complexion came out looking rough and uneven, but you planned to wear Harrison’s sweatshirt anyway, as Tom had advised, so you hoped nobody would look too closely.

Suddenly, your phone on the counter buzzed with texts from Harrison and Harry simultaneously. It hadn’t stopped going off since you woke up this morning, but you’d been ignoring it until now. A quick glance at the notifications told you that no one had heard from Tom all morning and they were getting worried You popped your head out of the bathroom to see him shoving clothes into a suitcase haphazardly, still only wearing pants.

“Why do you have to make my job so difficult?” you asked pointedly. 

He looked up with a glare. “Can you be more specific?”

“You haven’t been answering your phone. Can you just let someone know you’re alive?”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

You turned back around, trying to fight the familiar annoyance bubbling in your chest as you shoved all your makeup and toiletries into your makeup bag. Why had you let him fool you into bed? Stupid fucking charm. Stupid fucking arms. Stupid fucking accent, and sharp tongue, and pretty eyes fuck. You felt tears welling up in your eyes and gripped the counter forcefully. Sleeping with your boss had been a mistake, but it had happened. And you were going to have to get over it. 

You took a deep breath and grabbed your bag to pack and ran smack into Tom who was coming into the bathroom right as you were leaving. His expression softened when he saw the tears in your eyes.

“Hey,” he said, hesitantly bringing a hand up to your face and then running a thumb along your cheek, collecting tears that had already started to fall, “are you okay?”

“I will be.” You weren’t sure if you were telling him or yourself what you needed to hear, but you set your jaw and pushed past him all the same.

You had to be downstairs any minute now. Everything of yours was packed and Tom was... mostly packed. You did one last survey of the room for anything of yours and saw that you had only missed a few hair ties before you were satisfied. You thought you were ready to go before you realized you still needed to find Harrison’s sweatshirt. 

With a groan you tipped your suitcase back onto the floor and unzipped it. It was a mess inside since you weren’t the neatest packer either, and you had no idea where it could be. Harrison would kill you if you lost it, but you were sure it was in there somewhere, you just weren’t sure where.

“Whoa, whoa, what are you looking for?” Tom asked when he came back out from the bathroom and saw you digging through your suitcase like a madwoman. 

“Harrison’s sweatshirt!” you exclaimed as if it should be obvious.

It’s probably all the way at the bottom,” he reasoned. “Don’t worry, you have it.”

“No I need it,” you sighed. “I’m not supposed to show my face, remember? Much less my neck.” You glanced up at Tom who looked all too amused. “This is your fault.”

“Y/n, you’re acting like someone died, it’s just a jumper.” He stepped over your suitcase to grab something off the armchair and tossed it down to you. “Here just wear this one.”

You picked it up from your lap and unfolded what turned out to be a dark blue hoodie you didn’t recognize. 

“Is this-”

“It’s mine,” he said casually. “Just wear it until we get to New York and you can find Harrison’s again.”

“Are you sure?:

He nodded. “As much as I’d like for everyone to see my handiwork I think you oughtta stay out of trouble for now.” Tom didn’t know how right he was. 

“What about you?”

He stepped back over you and picked up a similar looking black hoodie from the ground and flashed it to you. “Perks of packing at the last minute.”

You caved and shrugged the hoodie on. It was smaller than Harrison’s, but softer on the inside, and it would work just as well. “Thanks Tom.”

“Don’t mention it.” He pulled his hood up over his head and leaned over to you to do the same. “Looks like we ended up matching anyway.”

You were only two minutes behind schedule once Tom was all packed and you took your last look at the hotel room the two of you had shared for the past few weeks. You didn’t know if you expected to feel sentimental, but all you could feel was relief over the fact that you were leaving and flicked it off from the doorway. Tom laughed and did the same before holding the door open and stumbling into the hallway behind you with all of his stuff.

Even though you both had all of your luggage to carry with you Tom challenged you to a race down the hallway. There was an attempt, but you were still so sore you had to do a weird sidestep thing to keep up. 

“Why are you walking like that?” Tom hissed.

“Why do you think?” you hissed back. 

“Oh shit,” he chuckled “my bad.”

You cringed with both pain, and regret. “Yeah. Your bad.”

He had slowed down for you, but he couldn’t wipe the shit-eating grin off his face. Boy sure did have a lot of pride in his abilities, and you wished you could take him down a peg, but you couldn’t.

“You lost it, didn’t you?” Was the first thing Harrison said when he saw you in a sweatshirt that wasn’t his. 

“No, I promise I didn’t. It’s just-”

“At the bottom of her suitcase,” Tom finished, coming up behind you. 

Harrison looked back at you for confirmation. “Something like that.”

“Thought you said you didn’t have one of your own,” Haz reminded you with a smile, pulling at one of the strings around your neck teasingly. “You know I still would’ve lent you mine, you didn’t have to lie.”

Tom didn’t give you a chance to explain. “It’s mine, mate.”

“Oh.” He let the string fall back onto your chest and pursed his lips. 

You wanted to elbow Tom in the ribs, but you had to pretend like it wasn’t a big deal. “He saw me looking through my suitcase in the middle of the hallway and offered me his.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “Well for what it’s worth, I think you look better in yellow.”

You offered him a small smile before he gathered his things to load on the boat and left you standing with Tom. 

“What the fuck?” you demanded. 

“I should be asking you the same thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you said there wasn’t anything going on with my mate.”

“There isn’t,” you growled.

Tom picked up the same string Harrison had been toying with. “Then why is this such a big deal?”

You paused for a second before snatching it out of his grasp. “You don’t get to do this to me,” you bit out and walked away towards the boat as Harrison had. You heard Tom call after you, but you didn’t turn around. You didn’t care if it was your job to stay with him right now, you needed some space.

The airport was completely compromised, of course. You had no idea how long people had been waiting for the cast to fly out of Italy, but it had to have been days, and they were gambling too, since pretty much everyone but Tom had already left. They couldn’t have known he’d fly out through the same airport, but apparently it was a chance they were willing to take.

Tom was gracious, of course. He stopped to take some pictures and sign merch despite security’s urgency to get him to his gate. You thought that he was being a little more generous than usual to spite you as well, since you’d specifically told him to be in and out.

Harrison and Harry had been flagged down to take some photos as well from fans who had spotted them and were desperate to have any piece of Tom, even if those pieces were people. You could tell they were both flattered, but a little flustered. They agreed to go over though and were nice enough to pose with the teenagers for a few pictures before scrambling to the other side of the walkway to where you were.

You couldn’t imagine ever being a part of his life, being so recognizable for nothing more than having a connection to Tom. Harrison was an actor, but Harry wanted to do film just like you and he was constantly in the spotlight because his brother was Spider-man. You were more than happy to stand on the sidelines and be an onlooker, someone who got glimpses of the lifestyle, but never had to partake.

Tom was talking to some kids now, and you were about to tell him to wrap it up when he did something that stopped you dead in your tracks. As he was smiling for a young boy’s selfie, he pulled his hood down and ran a hand through his hair. For a split second it was quiet. Then it was absolute chaos. You couldn’t tell if the fans were going buckwild over his hair, or the fact that he had a giant hickey on his neck. There was a strong possibility of both. You couldn’t hear anything over the screaming, but you thought you saw him mouth something at you.

“Jesus, where do you reckon he got that from?” Harrison asked you, but you were frozen to the spot. You didn’t trust yourself to speak.

“This is going to be  PR nightmare,” Harry groaned. “Mum and dad are going to kill him. God, why does he have to be such a showoff?”

“I think you mean why does he have to be such a dick,” you spat angrily, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Tom’s eyes searched the crowd once more, looking for someone through the masses of people until he finally met your gaze. You stared straight at him with murder in your eyes and watched in disbelief as he winked at you.

4am uploads aka on-brand :) lmk what you guys thought I always appreciate feedback!!

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[cryptidofthekeys]

Its another tf2 oc and im not ashamed

Let me break it down to y’all how this happened, so basically- I wanted a mafia-esque spy character but then my brain decided ok mafia mans is coolio BUT WHAT IF... t e n t a s p y mafia boss man? And voila here this fucker is

Name: Alphonse Blanchard | Titles/Nicknames: The Spy, Boss which usually his "partners" call him that, or just call him Alphonse, only ONE person can call him AL, anyone else tries it and well it wont be a very pleasant experience | Gender: Male | Species/Race: Used to be a normal human, now he's a Tentaspy- a m o n s t e r. | Age: 49s/50s | Occupation: Even tho he's got the title of The Spy n such- he's p much teechnically a Mafia Boss- b i g boss man for sure- | Height: When he was human he was about 5'7", but now he's 8'9" (nearly 9ft) | Eye Color: His eye color when he was human was a Steel Gray color, his eyes are now a Charcoal color (mostly for their meanings n stuff), his pupils are also slit ones now. | Hair Color: (even though most of his face except for his eyes and mouth are covered by a balaclava and you'd most likely never see him without his mask on, his hair color is black with grey streaks in the sides of it, however for the record- his hair is VERY tidy and slicked back) | Appearance: Now, not much changes tbh- except... he cant wear pants bc of the tentacles on his lower half but I'll get to those in a minute, he wears v e r y fancy and HIGHLY expensive suits, only the f i n e s t of clothing for him, usually he wears dark gray or black suits but he does have other colors- their just ALL dark colors, he likes the appeal of black or gray colors- and he d e f i n i t e l y loves the meaning behind them, they fit him so well... He also wears fedoras, he has some rings (you know the ones- the ones that some mafia characters or just big shots in general tend to wear- yeaah, his biggest ring and the one he usually wears has a skull on it-), and he of course has a circle beard, oh and he has a lot of scars both on his upper human body and his tentacles even, just- gettin that outta the way right quick- now onto his more monstrous features... For starters, let's get the simple one out of the way, he DOES have claws now, long sharp black claws to be more specific- his tentacles are pitch black on top with Smoke Gray tiger-like stripes going down them his underbelly is also Smoke Gray color- and oh boy... here's the most complex thing- his teeth, while all his teeth are p much bear trap teeth, his lateral incisors both top and bottom are longer kinda like vampire teeth or something like that ya know, his actual canines both top and bottom ones along with his first AND second premolars (again both the top ones AND the bottom ones are actually curved (kinda like an anaconda's in a way- p much- just- hooked teeth, perfect for hooking onto prey and not letting go if need be) | Personality: Oh b o y well, where to even begin with this motherfucker? He's narcissistic as hell "I k n o w I'm handsome, yes~" and god forbid you compliment him or anything- bc with e v e r y compliment, every good thing said about him his ego inflates and grows tenfold, even if you say bad shit about him- he don't give a fuck- as long as it doesn't affect his reputation then you'll be fine! He'll just pay no mind to petty insults or anything, at first- insults calling him a monster n anything similar bothered him, it made him feel sick every time someone had used those insults but now? Now... While he would MUCH prefer to have legs again (its honestly just bc its easier to walk around with legs than tentacles), he e m b r a c e s the fact he's a monster, he knows there's no reversing this, if there was- he would... he wouldn't go OUT of his way for it BUT he would at the very least TRY  to get his hands on whatever could cure this, ahem anyways- he's come to terms with what he is even if some things about it aren't... ideal... I wouldn't say he's EVIL really, he's more so a neutral unless provoked/attacked- t h e n he'll "take care" of whatever or whoever's causing the problem with NO mercy whatsoever, but other than that he can be a reasonable man, just don't piss him off, steal from him, etc- basically don't make enemies with him and you should be just fine, he isn't one for small talk or anything like that, he wants to talk business, business and m o n e y even, even if he is a fucking HIGHLY rich bastard, he always wants more- he's got a BIT of a greed streak in him for sure (that doesn't mean however he won't let others borrow money, he just expects them to pay it back in the end or sometimes... he'll use his money for ahem, undercover classified reasons...) He'll flirt with a n y o n e if they happen to catch his eye, not just ladies either- men, ladies, no gender? What the fuck ever, if he wants- he's GONNA flirt with anyone, even if it might not end in love or whatever, he doesn't? really? He doesn't really care tbh, love is alright and if it happens it happens but honestly- he's just a fucking flirty b i t c h, who loves to see that flustered look and get a reaction from the other, you'll never truly know... feelings? Maybe but probably not... (tl;dr: Flirty bitch- I wouldnt hold hopes for feelings, greed streak but isn't afraid to let others borrow money so long as they pay it back in the end- some things he uses it for are classified- p much [REDACTED] info, neutral unless provoked/attacked, no mercy nor care towards enemies- can and WILL wipe out every single one of his enemies without a single t r a c e being left behind, even tho he's a monster now and has a LOT more strength than a normal human, he still tends to use guns or knives but isn't afraid to use his monstrous features if need be, narcissistic bastardery at its finest- compliment him and watch his ego inflate! "Don't you want r e a l friends Alphonse and not just henchmen or lackeys?" "....Non, not in the slightest, absolutely disgusting to even ASSUME I need friends, I, myself am my best company, better than any friend could e v e r do" w o w- b a s t a r d energy there huh) | Side Facts: ...Truth be told, he won't e v e r forget the day he turned into... this... this t h i n g... Even if he's accepted his fate, even if he's accepted to be this monster, the memory still lingers and haunts him and his very dreams, he has nightmares about it, and its mostly due to the agonizing pain he felt d u r i n g his little "transformation", it happened one day- he was in his own medic's lab (yes, the bitch has his o w n doctor), it was a normal routine health check up his medic liked to do- the man was always harping onto Alphonse for that pesky smoking habit of his, but then suddenly, one of the rival- well, t h e y call themselves family- Alphonse only considers the people he hired to be henchmen, lackeys, OR- just employees for basic terms, but one of his rivals broke in and decided to open fire and of course, it turned into an all out gun war, Alphonse DID get shot- which is what caused him to stumble backwards into a shelf full of god knows what, after he bumped it, a few jars of weird substances had fallen onto him, after that he could feel his body twisting and contorting, he remembers the a g o n i z i n g pain he felt that day, it was worse than that mere gunshot wound that he had... Aside from the horrifying memory of what fate had befell him... He also remembers what he d i d to his little rivals... He remembers the mortified and terror-stricken look on their faces, all of them had ran- except for... their boss... so much for "family sticks together" huh, he remembers slithering over towards the boss, who- well, he tried to fire from the looks of it, but he was so terrified that he had dropped his gun, Alphonse had never seen such terror on a grown man's face like that, but he loved e v e r y. s e c o n d. until the very end, he doesn't remember what came over him in the end, maybe it was blind fury, or maybe it was just instincts, but after he did what he did... He remembers seeing the boss's head ripped off completely along with other limbs ripped off and flung across the room. Unfortunately, his suit was v e r y messy after that- He actually still keeps the boss's head preserved- almost like a t r o p h y in fact... ....Oh, your probably wondering what happened to his doctor, right? ....Well, I'll say is he's still out there, he didn't get killed- neither by the rivals nor Alphonse's instincts/fury, but truth be told... He doesn't REALLY wanna come back, he wants to stay hidden- I will say, yes- he DID see Alphonse transform, but after that he fled- part of him figured deep down that Alphonse would be v e r y angry with him since h e was technically the one who had those jars just sitting around on the shelf and he did NOT wanna stick around if that man was c r o s s with him... now whether or not Alphonse will ever encounter/find him again? ... Who knows- h e h ASIDE from all the backstory of why he turned into a Tentaspy, let's move onto things Alphonse just- likes to do in his spare time when he's not talking business n all that jazz- He usually smokes some of his cigarettes or cigars, he loves the cigars more though- he'll also do some reading in his spare time as well, or he'll listen to some calming music- sometimes he'll do all three, smoke, read, and listen to some calming music- he's not... the most exciting man, he's just usually busy- so when he's not- he'll just do those things- He'll SOMETIMES go outside and get some fresh air, usually its at night- not necessarily just bc there's l e s s people to worry about- but usually because he enjoys looking up and seeing the moonlight when its out, such a beautiful sight...

[houseofdisdain-blog1]

Book Club, Part 3: #JUSTICE FOR JUDGE SHARON

Welcome back to BOOK CLUB, our four-part book club about the movie Book Club (2018). Catch up on last week’s installment here: I’d Do Anything for Love (Especially if I Were in Love with Mary Steenburgen). We’re back this week to talk about Diane Keaton’s least favourite friend.  

R2: She only dresses well after her friends buy her new clothes, though. They buy her clothes and that’s why Jane Fonda has an ugly wig, like it’s punishment for helping Judge Sharon. R1: It just happens magically, like when she pays for the clothes the wig appears on her head and she can’t take it off. R2: And Diane appears in a puff of extravagant black ponchos and goes, You know what you did, Jane, you know. R1: She doesn’t get anything! R2: Let Judge Sharon have fun! She doesn’t even have a house. Does she have a bed? She has to fuck people in her car. R1: Yeah! What was that! R2: Yeah! Mary and Mr. Incredible get to get on a motorcycle and drive home to their house to have nice elderly sex on their comfortable bed. What does Judge Sharon have? Hook-ups in her car! R1: And anytime there’s a scene where she’s at work it’s interrupted by her getting Bumble notifications.

R2: Which really only adds to the tragedy of this character, because everyone else is adept at technology either because they’re Jane Fonda and they’re, like, savvy, or because they have children who can teach them how to use technology. R1: Meanwhile, Judge Sharon is on her own, pressing buttons wildly, trying to figure it out, taking accidental selfies. R1: I did really love the picture of her with her glasses backwards, though. That was good. R2: I was thinking, would I swipe yes on a lady who had that going for her? And I think yes.  R1: Oh, absolutely.  R2: It shows that she’s funny, has a great sense of humour. I also initially thought it was just a gag, like ‘Oh haha she’s old and can’t take a photo’ and the next time we see her she has a date, so I assumed she finally figured out how to get her nice, federal headshot in but no! R1: No! It was just that photo, because on the date, he’s like, ‘You look great without your mask.’ R2: So she’s just kept her face mask photo. Anyway, I thought her plotline would give her, like, string of great car sex - R1: But it’s one guy! And then on the next Bumble date she runs into her ex-husband and his new, much younger fiancee while she’s on a date with someone uncool and her age. And it gets worse! Because then Judge Sharon gets invited to her son and ex-husband’s joint engagement party, which is a horrifying concept.  R2: Diane Keaton is merciless. R2: So she’s not going to get the fun, modern woman with a penchant for car sex plotline. Fine. Then I thought maybe she’d get a younger but more age-appropriate, handsome man. Or she’d show up with him to the party and be like ‘haha screw you family,’ but no, when the day of the party arrives, she just corrects them on their Shakespeare. And we see her son -- R1: Who looks like a terrible person, by the way.  R2: He looks like a baby who goes to the gym. A really burly baby with horrible, horrible flaxen hair R1: His hair colour looks fake. It doesn’t look like a real colour. R2: It looks like Judge Sharon’s hair colour, but hers is faded and maybe dyed a bit? There’s no reason he should be sporting that light Betty White as Rose Nylund Blonde. I’d cut him out of my life too.  R1: She doesn’t get to show up her gross ex-husband or bland son. Instead, her happily ever after is supposed to be that first guy from Bumble. Who, don’t forget, is an accountant, which is another layer to the tragedy, because we’ve already established that accountants are evil in their universe. Diane Keaton’s lacklustre late husband was also an accountant. It’s a bad thing to be. 

R2: Her happy ending is that, after this horrible joint engagement party, she rematches with him on Bumble! Can you imagine that as your happily ever after? R1: I feel ripped off on her behalf. R2: And then she’s like, ‘Oh, I’m going to need a bigger backseat.’ What?? Get a bed! R1: Why doesn’t she have a bed?? Go anywhere else! R2: Diane Keaton has locked up her bed! She’s stolen the bed, taken it to Arizona, and locked it up in her basement dungeon. R1: Or, like, Judge Sharon, last time she did something egregious, like skipping a friend date with Diane Keaton to, god forbid, do her job -- she’s the only one of the four who behaves this unreasonably -- last time she did this, her bed just disappeared in a cloud of smoke and was never seen again. So now she has to sleep in the back of her car. R2: I believe that Diane Keaton is a real-life wizard. She dresses the part. Or she goes home and she’s typing in her Word doc in size 20 font and starts typing the next chapter of her fanfiction, “And then Candice no longer had a bed. She will never sleep again. That jerk.” R1: I guess that leaves us with the question of why Judge Sharon/Candice is the most hated friend who gets NOTHING in Diane’s fanfic. R2: Did Candice Bergen ever rob Diane Keaton of a coveted role? Did Sharon poison Diane’s husband? What did she do? I have to know. Someone get on this.

Please join us for next week’s book club (about Book Club). We will be discussing Jane Fonda and lesbian vampires.  

[lesmotsincompris]

Thoughts on GoT S07E06

Since everybody was discussing the leaks, I decided to watch the leaked episode and almost forgot to post my thoughts here as usual.

Anyway: that was terrible, y’all. That was a whole new level of terrible.

The show was awful long before this, of course, but I think this episode perfectly encapsulates how poorly written it can be. Every scene has a lot to tear apart, but let’s try to keep it short:

Winterfell

Oh boy, did that hurt. What D&D have done to Arya isn’t simply character assassination; they murdered her character, shat on the corpse, set the poop on fire, and put the fire out with vomit.

Arya’s lines during this episode seem to come from an anti-Sansa thread on Reddit. It’s so viciously misogynystic and victim-blaming that I’m losing all respect for fans that buy this kind of bullshit reasoning (and I’ve seen them with my own eyes).

Again knitting is brought in a negative context. Again Sansa is called stupid. Again Sansa is portrayed as an ambitious bitch because she didn’t act as the ideal victim is supposed to act. Again Sansa’s forced marriages are used against her. Again we have another reminder that Sansa was raped, because gods forbid we forget it. This isn’t dealing with trauma, this is rubbing in the audience’s faces one of the most hated scenes of this show.

It’s ridiculously out of continuity too. Everything Arya herself did to survive is ignored (hanging out with Tywin on season 2, anyone?). Also she couldn’t possibly think her sister helped the Lannisters get rid of Ned, she was fucking there. If she saw Sansa’s pretty hair and dress, she must have seen her crying and screaming in despair. Watch your own damn show, D&D!

Once more I must ask: what is Littlefinger still doing in this story? He’s trying to put Arya against Sansa, but why? What does he gain with that? Why is Sansa still listening to him? You can’t give me Sansa being snarky at him in one episode and fully trusting him in another, it just doesn’t make sense.

Sansa was rude to Brienne for no reason, and sent her away purely because D&D needed Sansa alone and unprotected in Winterfell again. It’s so forced it hurts.

Apparently Jon didn’t give any news in weeks. Great job, Jon. But hey, couldn’t they use their fucking omniscient robot brother to see what stupidity Jon was up to this time?

I was giggling during the entire briefcase scene, not even The Room can aspire to be this bad.

Dragonstone

“Heroes do stupid things and they die” is the supreme maxim of Grimdark™. It’s also clearly not what GRRM is going for in the books.

We had a scene with the sole purpose of delivering exposition that Jon is in love with Dany. Is he? Why would he be? What evidence have we seen of this? Oh no, but it’s a lot easier to have a character established as "clever" saying "he loves you" than actually showing the process of two people falling in love.

For all their speech abut sparing the innocent, Tyrion says they’ll burn King’s Landing if anyone touches Dany. See, the smallfolk are only important if they bend the knee, otherwise they can die. So much for wheel-breaking.

(we still don’t know what that means, btw)

Again Tyrion tells Dany what to do and how to act; I’m gonna stab with a knitting needle anyone that calls this show feminist. I don’t think Tyrion is wrong in everything he says, but having him mansplaining Dany constantly is annoying. If he “believes” her, why doesn’t he let her to think on her own? If he doesn’t trust her to do it, then why does he follow her?

I can’t blame Dany for being hostile to the whole succession talk. Yes, it’s an important matter, and one book!Dany still has to address, but it came very suddenly and when they had other more important matters to deal with.

Tyrion doesn’t want Dany to go and she goes, and again the narrative will prove Dany wrong for not listening to a man. Fuck this show.

Beyond the Wall

Aaah, le crap de le crap. Don’t get me wrong, Winterfell stuff made me roll my eyes so hard I could watch my own brain cells dying. But Winterfell was filler, while this is supposed to be the big moment, the “go go go, shock shock shock” we’ve been told about, the core of the wham episode of this season.

And it sucks.

Tormund says that smart people don’t go looking for the dead, and I have to agree with him. The whole plan of capturing a wight and touring it around Westeros was incredibly stupid to begin with, so it’s hard to feel bad for the characters when things go inevitably wrong.

Less than five minutes into this episode they were already joking about Gendry being assaulted by Melisandre. Fuck this show.

Gendry being sold to Melisandre, much like Tyrion killing Davos’ son with wildfire, becomes a “look, those characters know each other” gag. This is a very poor choice and ignores the fact that those characters met under traumatic circumstances that deserve a stronger reaction than that.

Of course you don’t hear Beric “bitching” about being killed six times, that would mean death and trauma carry any weight and in this show they don’t. Not anymore.

I’ve been complaining for a while that the show seems to have forgotten why Jorah was exiled, so they answered me with him admitting Ned was right. That’s great, it would have been a significant character development… if we had actually seen it. Character development is a character going from point A to point B, not suddenly being on point B with no indication of how they got there.

Then Jon says he’s glad Ned didn’t catch Jorah. Why? Does Jon knows that Jorah was exiled for selling people? Is Jon okay with that? Since when? He barely knows Jorah and no relationship was portrayed on screen before this moment, why this sudden concern with him?

Sandor says he hates gingers, which is another nail in the SanSan coffin for the show. We already that’s D&D’s NOTP, but the petty ways they find to demonstrate it always amuse me.

I joked about this being the Ultimate Bro Trip - All the Extras Edition, but boy I was right. There’s everything one could expect from this sort of event: sexual assault played for laughs, dick jokes, the most disgusting reference to Tormund x Brienne, heavy-handed hints of R+L=J, lots of walking for nothing, lots of shitting all over GRRM’s careful worldbuilding, lots of dudes bonding over stuff that makes me hate them as characters, poorly executed action with no real stakes. A true winner!

There are small things that worked for me. I kinda like Beric’s speech to Jon, or Sandor turning around when they burn Thoros’ wound. It’s a simple but effective way to remind the viewer of Sandor’s trauma. It doesn’t cost much in terms of dialogue or screentime, and keeps the character consistent and fleshed-out. But those were isolated moments, and isolated moments are not enough to save us from this torture of a scene.

I like the surprise element of the bear attack, but it was too shaky and confusing for my taste. Gendry says the bear has blue eyes, but I could hardly see the bear itself? And how can I care about characters dying if I can’t even see who’s dying? After some point it was The Revenant - Westeros edition, and still not the silliest scene in the episode.

The white walkers now die like vampires from Buffy and one stab is enough to finish them. Worse, they’re following the route of 'kill the boss, every minion dies’. I hate this trope, I’m sure there’s a name for it. It’s particularly bad in this case because now the white walkers’ impressive numbers don’t mean anything; just kill the extra blue dude with a vaguely Japanese armor and presto! Also, you know, it contradicts what we’ve seen so far including in this very episode.

Despite them walking for ages, Gendry goes back to Eastwatch pretty fast. The white walkers are kind enough to wait for no fucking reason while Gendry sends a raven, the raven reaches Dragonstone, Dany gets ready, and Dany flies to the Wall and beyond. This should have taken weeks, but apparently it happens over a day or so.

Look, when people talk about ‘teleportation’ in this show, we don’t mean that the writers must depict every beat of the trip. We mean that the trip needs to make sense considering everything we know about the setting and the resources available in that world. It doesn’t have to be super accurate either, just not physically impossible like this was.

The white walkers not attacking the group makes the previous Plot Armor evolve to a Plot AT Field from Evangelion. If there was going to be battle anyway, why the waiting? You’re already bending space and time for Daenerys to arrive, so I’m sure there would be better ways to have the ice dragon scene without all this contrivance.

The dragon saving scene would have been awesome if not for all the implausibility that led to it. It’s hard to be invested when you’re already angry and disappointed. The contrivances don’t stop there, and Jon takes two levels in stupidity and keeps fighting all macho when everybody else is safe on dragon back. Also Daenerys loves him for some reason.

That spear throwing was the funniest thing. Congrats to whoever did the dragon animations and noises, though, that was a great job. Emilia Clarke’s nearly-crying face would have been a great start for one of Daenerys’ more emotional moments in the show, watching the death of one of her children. Too bad this is basically all the reaction she’s allowed to have.

Jon got Viserion killed out of sheer stupidity and stubbornness, but somehow Dany loves him even more for that! She wants to wait for him, even if that endangers her other dragons. Back at the Wall, she waits for his return, not perhaps a sign of Viserion. When he apologizes for being the worst, she’s not remotely angry at him. It was “good” that her dragon died, because now she understands. Now she knows that in this show men are always right and women pay a dear price for not listening to them.

Can’t see the narrative goal of leaving Jon behind or him falling in the water. Nobody actually expected him to die, even if he should have. Then you have Uncle Benjen Ex Machina holding thousands of White Walkers on his own, as if that somehow prevents a few of them from going after Jon. This whole scene accomplished nothing but stretching our suspension of disbelief further, as if there was any left at this point.

The walkers somehow put chains on the dragon to pull it. Why not just make the dragon fall on land? Viserion returning could have been cool if: a) it wasn’t a product of a conga line of plot contrivances; b) they didn’t take four years to show us his eyes opening, as if this wasn’t ridiculously obvious.

Daenerys can’t mourn her fucking dragon, she’s too busy finding the Ultimate Man to Listen To. What prompts Jon to decide that Dany is now his queen? Why does he call her Dany? How does Dany know the Night’s King name?

More importantly, why do I still care to ask about all this questions when the answer is “D&D are fucking dumb and they’re hoping we are too”?

Extra notes

Should we start printing Euron’s picture in milk boxes? And what happened to Theon?

Fuck this show, fuckindammit, that was a lot of time and energy wasted just to get angry.

[spuffyverseonthecomics]

In Defense of Spike

Spike went after Slayers only because they were women, he hates women!

So why he immediately got interested when he heard about someone who could “teach him a lesson”, before he knew the Slayer was female?

Fool for Love

ANGELUS: You can't keep this up forever. If I can't teach you, maybe someday an angry crowd will. That... or the Slayer.

SPIKE: What's a Slayer?

Spike stayed in Sunnydale only because he wanted to get into Buffy's pants!

Buffy was dead... her body was rotting under the ground...

Bargaining

DAWN: But I'm fine alone. It's not like anyone's coming after me. I'm not the key. Or if I am, I don't open anything any more. It's over. Remember?

SPIKE: I'm not leaving you here by yourself, so forget it.

DAWN: Well, I'm just saying-

SPIKE: No. I'm not leaving you... to get hurt. Not again. Now deal.

Spike was 100% EVIL!

Well, when he lost his memory, he wasn't that evil; “there was always good in him. so strong it didn’t need a soul to come out” (BtVS S10, Christos Gage)

Tabula Rasa

BUFFY: I kill your kind.

SPIKE: And I bite yours. So how come I don't wanna bite you? And why am I fightin' other vampires? I must be a noble vampire. A good guy. On a mission of redemption. I help the hopeless. I'm a vampire with a soul

Spike went to Africa to get his chip out to be able to kill Buffy!

Well, that one is just... lame. Anyway:

Smashed

BUFFY: It's a trick. You did something to the chip, it's a trick.

SPIKE: It's no trick. It's not me, it's you. Just you, in fact, that's the funny part. 'Cause you're the one that's changed. That's why this doesn't hurt me.

Spike only concern was Buffy; he would not move a muscle to save anyone else!

Once, Spike instinctively ran to help Xander – it wasn't Buffy (or Dawn) screaming; he could have pretended not to have hearing anything:

Older and Far Away

Shot of Anya sitting in the dark by herself as we hear Xander scream.

Shot of Xander being held around the middle, arms pinned to his sides, with the sword at his throat.

Shot of Spike hearing, running toward the noise.

ANYA: Xander?

Xander struggles with the demon. Spike rushes in, grabs the demon's sword arm and tries to pull it away. But he can't, so instead he knuckle-punches the demon in the ribs. The demon growls and hits Spike with his elbow. Spike goes down.

Spike's only goal was drag Buffy down to the dark side! He was a 100% selfish bastard who didn't think of Buffy's well being!

What would be better for him than to keep their relationship a secret? Why the hell did he want so much the Scoobies to know about him and Buffy?

Normal Again

SPIKE: It's why you won't tell your pals about us. Might actually have to be happy if you did. They'd either understand and help, God forbid, or drive you out where you can finally be at peace in the dark. With me. Either way you'd be better off. But you're too twisted for that. Let yourself live already. Stop with the bloody hero trip for a sec. We'll all be the better for it. 'Cause I'm done with it. You either tell your friends about us... or I will.

Spike told Xander and Anya about him having sex with Buffy - what a fucking asshole, revealing such a dirty little secret like this!

Spike kept the relationship a secret, as demanded by Buffy, till she said she wouldn't mind if their friends knew about it – and he did so only under an extreme circumstance.

Entropy

BUFFY: You wanna tell them so badly? Go ahead. You know why? I tried to kill my friends, my sister, last week ... and guess how much they hate me. Zero. Zero much. So I'm thinking, sleeping with you? They'll deal.

Spike didn't give a damn to his past crimes!

Sleeper

SPIKE: No, not the chip! Not the chip, dammit. You honestly think I'd go to the end of the underworld and back to get my soul and then - Buffy, I can barely live with what I did. It haunts me. All of it. If you think that I would add to the body count now, you are crazy.

Buffy NEVER felt anything other than disgust and hate towards Spike!

Seeing Red

BUFFY: I have feelings for you. I do. But it's not love. I could never trust you enough for it to be love.

First Date

BUFFY: Why does everybody in this house think I'm still in love with Spike?

Spike is just a big liar!

[dotbammie]

Protection// Im Jaebum(Part 6)

Pairing: Jaebum x Reader

Genre: Supernatural, Vampire

Summary: After being saved from an absolute stranger, you find yourself in a different world; A world you never knew existed, a world where you find yourself less protected than before.

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry for the wait! But I believe that this is one of my favorite chapters yet, so please enjoy!

xoxo Sara

1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12

You had felt as if you had regained all of your strength during the first week that you stayed with the boyd, but yet, you weren’t allowed to leave the confinements of the underground basement. You had memorized everything in the apartment by now; the cracks in the black brick walls, the way some swirls in the rug on the floor of the bathroom don’t seem to line up with others. You even noticed the cleanliness of the boys; how Youngjae seemed to keep his room the cleanest, and how Bambam never seemed to leave his.

Over the days you had stayed with the four boys, you had learned about each of them more and more. You had assumed that they were all similar when you first met them, but over the time you observed them, they were all quite the opposite.

Jackson was the loudest of the group, it seemed; he was always laughing and giggling loudly, screaming over the blaring music that came from Bambam’s room when the others would only whisper. He seemed to be the mood maker of the group as well. If anyone need any cheering up, Jackson was the one to do it. He took the time to learn about all of the things that you liked, even the small things. Whenever you felt as if you were so sad you simply wanted to break free, Jackson was the one who went out and bought you your favorite candies, or maybe even a blanket, just so you would feel more at home and less of an outsider while you were staying with them.

Youngjae was the kindest of the group to you. He was the most accepting of you when you first came, and like Jackson, he always wanted to make you happy, even if it was just by doing the little things. He even set you a place at the table where they usually ate their dinner, inviting you over to eat with them and giving you some of the food off of his plate, saying you would need it for strength if the time of a battle ever came. He seemed to like to be with you as well. When Jackson and Jaebum had left during the day, both doing odd jobs to make money and doing more investigation on The Kin, Youngjae stayed on the couch with you and watched TV, all the while comforting you over the fact that you weren’t allowed to leave. On the days where you were so anxious to escape, Youngjae would sit with you and almost make you feel as if you were a part of the pack.

Bambam seemed the most difficult to get along with, and you hadn’t the slightest idea as to why. He seemed very off put by your stay with them, and he simply wanted you to leave the house, and leave his sight. You tried to talk to him many times,always trying to strike up a conversation as he sat on your couch-bed watching tv, but he never seemed to want to talk to you. You could tell by how his demeanor changed when you were in the room, that he wasn’t normally like that. He wasn’t normally so angry and cold. You didn’t know why you had all of a sudden made him angry and cold, but you did, and it made you curious to find out more about him.

And last was Jaebum. You hadn’t gotten to spend any moments with him alone, due to the fact that he was the soul provider of the house, and was usually out on jobs, but whenever he was home, he seemed to take care of you. He made you dinner and made sure you were always comfortable, and he even offered to let you take his bed, because he knew how hurtful the couch could be on your back. You politely declined, though, not wanting to make it seem as if you were completely okay with the fact that your fate was practically set in stone, and that you were you meant to be with him. He leant you some of his clothes to wear during your stay, even though you told him it was completely fine for him to go into your apartment and quickly grab some of the things he would think that you need. Though you were never really alone with him, besides of the first night you stayed there, he always seemed to know what you needed. If you needed a mug of hot chocolate, within minutes, Jaebum would have one for you, even if you didn’t say that you needed one out loud.

Upon your request, Youngjae bought many books from the other world for you to read; informational books on the evolution of vampires, where they came from, how to become one, and all of the bodily chemistry about them. You had wondered why your mother was apparently so intrigued about vampires, and you finally found out why; the chemical reactions that occur inside of them when they gain blood or change another human into a vampire is incredible. You learned the reason as to why their bodies stop aging once they’ve been changed and why they react so harshly to sunlight.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Youngjae hummed one day, entering the living room with a new book in his hand, “I have a new book for you.”

“Oh, give it,” you smiled, reaching out for it. He placed it in your hand and smiled at you.

“It’s a book about your mom.”

Jackson had made you realize that, the mother you had when you were younger, wasn’t actually our mother, but it was Yugyeom’s. You read about your actual mother nightly as soon as Youngjae began bringing book upon book about her from the other world; reading about her sweet and kind demeanor, how she often cared for anyone who needed help and how she would do anything to help another living soul. You read about how she came to the throne and defeated the ones who ruled before her, how she was a scientist and how she had a lab underneath the castle she stayed in, where she kept all of her secret potions, ones that weren’t stable for both the human and vampire world. You had even seen pictures of her; and she was incredibly beautiful. She had long, flowy hair, beautiful lips and, as Jackson had said, a nose eerily similar to yours.

You had often fallen asleep while reading about her, the book often lying on your chest as you rested your back on the couch. Jaebum came home one night, late from working a job to earn money, and he found you sound asleep on the couch in that position. He found it heartwarming, how you were so interested in the vampire world now that they had told you about it, and how big of a roll you played in it. He also found it heartwarming how much you wanted to learn about your mother, and all of the tiny quirks that she had that you had maybe taken after her. He took the book from your hands, making sure he wrapped you tightly in the blanket, before he left for bed himself.

The next morning after you woke, you  were determined to get Bambam to open up to you. You had no idea how, but you needed to. You were sick of the coldness that radiated off of him whenever you were near him, and you were determined to put an end to it, no matter if it took a week, or three years.

You began thinking of ways to get alone with him, somehow, but you hadn’t had the slightest idea on how to execute any of your plans. He was always in his room with the door locked, blasting music until he fell asleep. He only came out to eat, and even then, as soon as he was done, he would head straight back into his room.

You sat at the table with him and Youngjae in silence, watching as he dug into his cereal, when you saw Jaebum come from down the hallway.

“Youngjae,” Jaebum said, patting down his coat as he looked for his keys, “Get your coat on. You’re coming on a job with Jackson and I.”

Following Jaebum’s orders without hesitation, Youngjae walked over to the coat rack, leaving you and Bambam at the table.

“What, and I don’t get to go either?” Bambam hissed, looking at you through his peripheral vision before looking back at Jaebum, “Am I babysitting her or something?  Is she not old enough to watch herself?”

“Hey,” Jaebum said sternly, looking at Bambam as he reached for the door handle, “It’s not babysitting. Give her some respect, yeah? We know, you can’t stand her. But you have to stay with her to make sure she doesn’t get hurt. She may have some vampire in her, but she hasn’t learned how to channel it properly and safely. Until then, she is our responsibility and we can’t let her get hurt. So today, you’re watching her while us three are out on a job.”

“That’s bullshit,” Bambam growled, standing up abruptly from the table and taking his bowl along with him as he went to the sink, “Why can’t Youngjae stay with her then, if you know I don’t like her?”

“Because, Youngjae is stronger than you Bambam. No matter if you want to admit it or not, he has more experience in the sun than you do, and this particular job requires us staying out in the sun for long periods of time with little to no breaks. Don’t be a cry-baby and just watch her, won’t you? She won’t bother you.”

You looked at Bambam slightly, catching his stare before looking away.

“Do I have to stay in the same room in her?”

“Yes,” Jaebum said, “And that’s an order. God forbid if the Kin were to break in and you were in your room, blasting music without knowing what was going on.”

“And what, do I have to follow her when she takes a piss too?”

“Enough,” Jaebum growled, slamming his fist against the door, startling you and Bambam enough to shut him up. “Why are you acting so immature today, Bambam? Are you really upset that you can’t go on this job with us? Or is it all because you harbor negative feelings towards (Y/N)? And, why do you even feel that way, anyway? She has never done anything personally to hurt you. Is it because you still believe in your head that she took away your best friend without meaning to? Is that it? Because trust me, if we were all allowed to be angry over something so trivial and useless like that, then I would be furious at her too. Grow the fuck up, Bambam. I didn’t think the fact that you were turned at such a young age affected your mentality.”

Jaebum looked at Youngjae with a stern look while Jackson came walking in behind them, fixing his coat along the way. Jackson noticed the tension in the room almost instantly, making him raise an eyebrow at Jaebum. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Jaebum said lowly as he opened the door, “We’ll be back later tonight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

Without even another glance at Bambam, Jaebum left the room, Youngjae following behind. Jackson looked at you both hesitantly.

“Wh-”

“Jackson,” Jaebum called from down the hallway before Jackson could get any words out, “Come, now.”

Jackson sighed softly, walking over to the door and looking back at you again. “You’re going to tell me later.”

And with that, the three boys were gone, leaving you alone with Bambam. It was what you wanted originally, but you could tell that Bambam was not in the mood.

It had been around an hour or so since the three left you alone with Bambam. You sat at the table, continuing to read the books Youngjae had got you, while Bambam sat on the couch, traveling through the channels without a care in the world. You decided to stay out of his way for a little bit, waiting until he seemed to physically calm down. You didn’t want to go and talk to him and accidentally set him off, causing him to hate you even more than he did.

You looked at him constantly, just to quickly look away in fear of him catching your stares. You weren’t sure what made him tick, but what Jaebum had said before he left had rang your head the whole time you were reading.

‘Is it because you still believe in your head that she took away your best friend without meaning to’

‘Who was his best friend,’ you asked yourself as you zoned out, ‘Who could I have taken away from him?’

“Are you going to stare the whole time you read?” His voice pulled you from your thoughts, causing a blush to stain your cheeks, “Maybe you should take a picture.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, looking back at your book. It was then that you decided, enough was enough. You closed your book slowly, standing up from the table and making your way over to the couch where he sat. You sat down, not dangerously close to him, but close enough to where he couldn’t leave.

“Why are you s-”

“Why do you hate me, Bambam?” You interrupted him, looking at him blankly as you awaited his answer. He looked at you slightly, only to turn back away and looking at the TV.

“You’re a nuisance.”

“How am I a nuisance?” You asked softly, “I don’t do much to you. The only time I bother you is when I need to sleep and you’re out here until four in the morning watching TV. Other than that, I barely talk to you. And Jaebum said something b-”

“He was wrong,” Bambam growled, gripping the remote tightly in his hand, “He was wrong. You didn’t take anyone away from me. I don’t have any friends.”

“But, what about your pack?” You questioned, “Wouldn’t they be upset if they heard you say that you weren’t friends with them? Don’t you care for them? They provide a place for you to stay and food for you to eat after all.”

Bambam looked at you through his peripheral vision yet again, before letting a soft scoff leave his lips.

“They all treat me like a child anyway.”

“Well, because you’ve been acting like one,” you looked away from him, but you were able to feel his sudden stare on you as if it held the heat of a thousand suns on the back of your head.

“And in what place are you to say that i’m acting like a child?” he asked, almost as if he were spitting out venom with each word, “You’ve been here for what, a week? And now you act as if you know everything about everyone in this house. You know little to nothing about them, and you know absolutely nothing about me and my past.”

“I’m not trying to act as if I know everything,” you defended, “I’m just saying what i’ve noticed since i’ve been here, especially towards me. But I want to know more about you, Bambam. Not only because I want to find out about the actual reason as to why you hate me, but because underneath, you seem to be fairly nice. It’s only when i’m not in the room that you turn into someone cold and heartless.”

“Don’t act as if you can see right through me or something. You aren’t some high and all knowing God who can just, tell me what i’m feeling. You’re a know-it-all. Or you’re trying to be one. And it’s irritating.”

“So, wanting to know about someone is considered a know-it-all now?” you sighed, rolling your eyes, “I’m just trying to understand what the fuck I did to make you hate me so much, Bambam? Would you tell me if I annoyed you? If I cried? If I was rough with you instead of being a shy little lamb?”

You had finally snapped; you began pushing his arm repetitively, begging for an answer.

“Why do you hate me so fucking much Bambam? Why do you hate me as if I had taken away the only thing you ever cared about? What did I do to y-”

“Because of you, Yugyeom left our group,” Bambam yelled, slamming the TV remote against the coffee table in pure rage as he stood, “There, are you happy now? He just had to follow the other two into the Kin. His dumb ass had to listen to them when they promised to give him something that he wanted so desperately, even though I kept telling him it was a bad idea.”

Soon the anger began to wash away, but instead, remorse and regret filled his eyes.

“Why didn’t he listen to me? He always listened to me before they came along. Before they got into Jinyoung’s brain, Yugyeom always listened to me. But then they infected Jinyoung with whatever sort of mind control they fucking use, and Yugyeom immediately followed. Why couldn’t he have listened to me?”

You watched as he tried to cover up his emotions. He clenched both his jaw and his fists tightly, keeping eye contact away from you. You were going to pry him open somehow, and this was your chance.

You rested a hand on his arm, causing his attention to waver to you for only a second before it went back to the TV. The static from the TV was the only noise the emerged from the room for a couple of seconds, until you began to speak.

“Bambam...What did they promise Yugyeom? If it was important to him, of course he would go after it… But, what was it that he needed so badly?”

“They promised him that he would be able to see you,” he said after a moment, his grip so tight in his own fists that the veins in his arms began to pop out, “They promised him that he would get the chance to see you.”

He looked at you, his eyes glossing over slightly with tears. “He’s been searching for you, (Y/N). He told me all about you, all the time. How he got to take care of you until you turned four. How after his mom passed away, you were the only family he had, even though you weren’t related by blood. And he tried so desperately, for years and years to find you, but they never let him enter the human world. The Kin promised him a chance to go to the human world, and that he could see you again.”

You felt your heart swell at his words; no wonder why he was so angry at you. In his mind, you were truly the reason why his best friend was swept away by such an evil organization.

“But, they didn’t tell him that he was going to be forced to execute you if he saw you. So now, he’s there miserable because of the fact that he has to kill you, or else he will have to take the fall and offer himself. And i’m miserable here because I know that if he knew you were safe here with us, that he’d take the fall gladly, and i’d lose my best friend.”