#sometimes i think he’s a figment of my imagination

[macabr3-barbi3]

God, That's Good

Chapter 7: Wait

Alastor tries to ease Lucifer's impatience, and Vaggie comes by for a favor.

Tags: more brooding, banter, A PROPER KISS

Before I rant about my writing wife some more, I do want to advise that once we get past this chapter, things will be getting quite a bit darker and more explicit. There's murder; there's blood; there's cannibalism; there's a little sex (not dark, but still warranting a warning I think LOL). If you know the musical/movie I'm sure you have a vague idea of what's coming. Be mindful of these things from chapter 8 onwards- I'll make sure to put specifics in the tags for each chapter but PLEASE don't read if you think these things might be triggering or upsetting to you.

Back to our regularly scheduled vibes- as always, huge thanks to @fraugwinska for helping me stick to a normal schedule and being one of my absolute best friends and most enthusiastic supporters 😍 ALSO thank you to everyone that has liked/reblogged/commented- this AU has me in a chokehold and I'm stoked that others are enjoying reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it

PSSSST: Wednesdays have even more to look forward to! If you love Alastor being a questionable hottie as much as I do, check out @hazelfoureyes with A Doe in Fall that is ALSO updating on Wednesday evenings! I promise I'm very normal about this story and Hazel's writing in general (she said, lying, being very not normal about either thing)

Chapter 1 🥧 Chapter 2 🥧 Chapter 3 🥧 Chapter 4 🥧 Chapter 5 🥧 Chapter 6  🥧Chapter 7

Despite her promise to visit soon, it’s a fortnight later and the Beadle still has not come by Lucifer’s barbershop.

He would be the first to admit that he broods on it. Between customers of his now booming business, he spends hours sat in his chair staring at himself in the mirror, trying to find the remnants of the man he used to be. He watches the tendons in his hands move as he shaves the gentlemen of New Orleans, thinking that they surely were not the same hands of Damien Diggory though they remained on his body all the same. Families came and went through his door, constantly reminding him of what he had lost, what the Beadle and Adam had to pay for, making his unease at her absence grow more every day.

He sat now in his empty shop with one of his razors in hand, staring down at the blue of his eyes reflected on the blade. He felt empty, numbness creeping from the pit of his stomach to his limbs and making his whole body feel like a hollowed out shell of a person- he looked the same, sounded the same, but the substance inside him was either missing or in the process of rotting where it sat. Charlie was still out of his reach, his revenge on hiatus until the Beadle saw fit to grace his shop with her presence. Everything was at a standstill, and the lack of activity beyond shaving was making him a madman, always pacing around the upstairs, approaching the entrance to his family’s old apartment and retreating like a coward.

A creak of the floor alerts him to the door opening, three soft knocks letting him know that it’s Alastor. He can hardly look the man in the eyes these days after he had embarrassed himself that night two weeks ago, when he had tripped into Alastor’s lap and pulled him into a kiss. It was embarrassment more than anything; thinking that he had reciprocated had been nothing but a figment of Lucifer’s drunk imagination, as Alastor hadn’t mentioned it since. Sometimes his eyes will fall on the younger man while Alastor is busy doing something else, and he uses those stolen moments to learn the curves of his face, imagining the blade skimming over his cheeks if he ever gave him the chance to give him a shave. 

Alastor comes behind the chair, leaning his elbows on the back above Lucifer’s shoulders. “I thought you had no customers today,” he says softly, watching Lucifer in the mirror. “What are you doing up here, hm? Plotting?” He smiles slyly, the corners of his mouth turning up and giving him a mischievous look. “Or pouting?”

“It’s been a fortnight,” he laments, snapping the razor closed and placing it on the stand beside him. “Why has she not come?” He stands from the chair and starts to pace- surely he looks like a madman, stalking between the apartment door and the sizable chest that held his spare towels and aprons, hands taking through his hair. 

Alastor sighs, his smile still in place. “Oh dear, a tantrum. How unbecoming. And just when I’ve started to think you were respectable.”

Lucifer scoffs. “Come now, Alastor- you don’t think it strange that she’s not arrived yet? You’d think such an ‘esteemed member of society’ could keep to a date.” Perhaps his air quotes and exaggerated accent were a tad childish, but it still makes Alastor laugh through his admonishment. “I’m… antsy, sitting around and waiting for her. They have to pay for what they did to Lilith, to me-”

“And they will.” Alastor leaves the chair to approach him, the proximity when he finally stops making Lucifer’s heartbeat pound in his throat. “Patience is key, my good man.”

“I’ve waited for so long already,” he groans. “Was fifteen years not enough? Must I wait another ten before I’ve avenged the wrongs against us?”

“So she’s a few days past when she said she would come,” Alastor says flippantly. “Do you not think that your over-eager manner won’t scare her off? Cause her to alert the Judge?”

Lucifer says nothing, not wanting to concede that he’s correct. He keeps his eyes on his feet, that hollow feeling returning to his chest and muffling the sound of Alastor’s voice as he continues talking. What would he do if she never came? Then surely Adam would never have reason to set foot in his parlor; he would never have his vengeance, Charlie would be lost to him, Lilith would be dead with nothing to show for his avenging her-

“Lucifer.” His head jerks up, and Alastor is watching him with narrowed eyes. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

He’s sure his face flushes. “Of course I did,” he lies, “you were… shit-”

The smile returns to his face. “I was saying,” he says softly, “that perhaps you can use the time to update your bearings. Get some flowers, hang some decor on the wall- that will likely sway the Beadle’s mind as far as recommending your establishment to the Judge, if the walls are not bare as though you’ve just moved in.”

“I have just moved in,” Lucifer points out petulantly. “I’ve only just started taking customers this last fortnight, I’ve not had time for bearings as you well know.”

Alastor claps his hands together, the sound making Lucifer jump. “I’ll send Husker for a floral arrangement for you- I think it will really cheer the place up.” He glances at Lucifer, a slow drag of his eyes up and down the barber’s body that almost makes him feel shy with the heat it contains. “I was also thinking that the unknown waiting period we find ourselves in is not a wholly bad thing. Perhaps I’m old fashioned, but I find that half of the fun in a plot is making the plan itself! Especially when one has a partner.”

And to Lucifer’s surprise he steps closer, bridging the already short gap between their bodies and taking Lucifer’s hands in his own. “I, for one, have also been enjoying this time simply getting to know you.”

He thinks his brain stops working, the way his mouth stammers to get out a response to that. “Oh! Well, I- I mean, I’ve also been, you know. Enjoying you.” Alastor’s head tilts in amusement, and Lucifer realizes what he’s said. “Enjoying your company, I mean! Fuck, I’m sorry-”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Alastor murmurs, and he releases one of Lucifer’s hands to slide around his back, pulling him fully into his chest. “We did say that we would revisit the intimate portion of that night when you were no longer intoxicated. Tell me, Lucifer, are you under any influence at this time?”

He doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he shakes his head. It shakes some logic loose- that kiss had been a mistake, the door wasn’t locked if a customer approached, he was less than ten feet from the apartment he had shared with his dead wife- but doesn’t stop him from allowing Alastor to lean in and press their lips together.

It’s so much better now that he’s not drunk. The kiss is soft and gentle for a bit, simply their lips touching as they learn the ways they fit against one another. It’s not until Alastor fists a hand in his shirt to keep him close that Lucifer even considers trying to deepen it. His hands tremble from nerves instead of liquor when he reaches up to hold the back of Alastor’s head, fingers threading through his hair while a broken noise tears itself from the back of his throat. Alastor responds in kind, making a soft sound that’s lost in Lucifer’s mouth as he parts his lips, his tongue shyly seeking entrance that Lucifer is all too eager to give him.

Lightning sparks behind his eyes, heat flooding his veins to pool low in his stomach, and he knows he needs to end the kiss before he does something that both of them may regret- though he hates to break the intimacy of the moment, ravishing Alastor in his parlor was not on his agenda for the day. He would need time to plan, to properly court the baker perhaps before inviting him to his bed- not to mention the extra time he would need to whisper pleading prayers to Lilith to forgive him.

Lucifer pulls back, his resolve nearly broken when he sees the way that Alastor’s lashes flutter, a noise of confusion escaping him. “We-” He clears his throat, embarrassed at the low rasp of it. “We should stop for now. Which is not to say that I don’t want to kiss you more! I do, very much,” he rambles, and Alastor merely blinks slowly and watches his mouth move as he had that first night. “Just, we should take this a bit more slowly. I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness-”

“Rest assured, Lucifer,” he purrs, “you are not.” And that makes him lose his train of thought for a moment, with how husky and low the words come from Alastor’s mouth.

“Haah, well, still. I would like to take this a bit slower and do it right. If you would allow me to, you know, properly court you, I would very much like to do so.” He sounds stupid, he realizes, like a child with a crush asking them to check ‘yes’ or ‘no’ on a piece of paper; he just hopes Alastor isn’t put off by the formal request. Perhaps he would prefer something unspoken, more blinding, unplanned kisses that steal both of their breath and leave them panting and wanting more.

But thank God, Alastor simply smiles at him and takes his hand again. “I would like that as well,” he says, and Lucifer thinks he could just collapse from the relief he feels. “We shall go at whatever pace best suits us- though I hope you’ll forgive me if I seem a bit impatient at times.” He watches Lucifer’s neck as he says this, and the barber knows he follows the movement of his throat as he swallows. “But by that logic, if I can wait for what I want, surely you can as well.”

Lucifer opens his mouth to respond- to admonish him, or perhaps pull him in for another kiss- when he hears the creaking of the stairs. He has just enough time to step back from Alastor before the door swings open, and he manages to hide his disappointment that it is not the Beadle, like he hoped, but Vaggie.

“Mister Morningstar!” She crosses the room to greet him with an enthusiastic handshake. “It’s been ages, I haven’t had much time to make it to this side of New Orleans but I’m happy to see you’re in business. And hello to you as well, sir,” she offers to Alastor, who gives her a small smile and turns to tidy something on the shelf behind him. “Mister Morningstar, I admit I have a favor to ask of you- there’s a woman, you see-”

Alastor scoffs behind them, and Vaggie’s eyes narrow into slits before she continues. “She is kind and beautiful, and stubborn beyond belief; she’s opened my eyes to so many new ideas and theories, and- her guardian poses a problem to any intentions I may have towards her, but late last night as we talked and the Judge called her away, Charlie slipped this into my hands.” She holds up a key, dark and dangling off a red ribbon. “It must be a sign, don’t you think?”

“Charlie?” He could hardly dare hope that it was her- that the Judge Vaggie spoke of was Adam, that such an opportunity to have her back was simply being dropped into his lap like this. “Charlie. And, the Judge, you say?”

“Charlie- Charlotte, I suppose, that is her name. And the Judge Cain and his lackey, the Beadle Sera Dempsey. They patrol the alley behind Cain’s home at random hours but despite this we’ve found days that we talk for hours before they can interrupt us. She is perfection, Mister Morningstar, and even if she doesn’t return my feelings I want to see her free from these jailers she’s in the care of. If I can convince her to leave with me tonight- perhaps later in the week, depending on when that horrid Judge is home- could I bring her here for shelter for an evening? Just until I can find a coach for hire to take her North with me, or wherever she wishes to go.”

She finally stops talking, taking a deep breath while she waits for Lucifer to answer her. He finds his words stuck in his throat- yes, bring her, please, bring her to me- and is dismayed to find a lump in his esophagus, halting his words behind the threat of tears. He clears his throat, blinking his eyes a couple times to rid himself of emotion. “You may bring her here,” he says, his heartbeat rapid in his veins, and Vaggie’s face lights up with joy. 

“You’re a blessing, sir, thank you! I hope to see you again tonight, but in any case, I’ll come with Charlie soon!” She shakes his hand again, the force of it making him stumble, before she releases him and is back out the door as quick as a flash.

He turns almost absently to Alastor, who gives him a smile. “Who could have guessed?” He says cheerfully. “You’ll have her back before the week is out- possibly even before the day is done!”

“Charlie will be coming here,” he says distantly, and then it hits him like a train. “Charlie is coming! Oh God, what will she think of me? I need to- shave, maybe, or- should I grow it out? My beard was grown out when she was young, maybe that’s why she no longer recognizes me-”

“Lucifer.” 

Alastor approached him slowly, like one might a feral animal- and that’s what he had felt like lately, some untamed beast stalking around his shop, so perhaps Alastor was right to take a cautious approach. “Perhaps we focus first on getting her here before you spiral about letting her know who you are, hm?”

“You’re right,” he says, and thank God for Alastor to help him keep a level head. “Of course, making sure she gets here safely is the most important part. But- we should clean the place up a bit! How soon do you think Husk can bring those flowers you mentioned? And I can dust the apartment, make sure that everything is tidy-”

He’s interrupted by the creaking of the stairs again, the bell at the bottom ringing loudly to signify someone coming. He expects Vaggie again, or even perhaps the Beadle at last. But to his confusion, it’s neither- Sir Edward Pentious stands in the doorway, his small assistant at his side and carrying a bag that was far too heavy for her slight frame and causing her to tilt to one side. 

“Sir Pentious,” he greets cordially, “and… young lady.”

“I’m Niffty, sir,” she giggles, reaching a hand out to vigorously shake Lucifer’s. “Nice to meet you when you aren’t beating my boss in a shaving contest- and his shop is way nicer than yours too,” she directs to her employer, and he flushes a dark shade of red. “Are you sure you want to be a barber?”

“Niffty,” he hisses, and gently shoves her behind him. “I was hoping to speak with Mister Morningstar alone,” he directs to Alastor, who shrugs with a soft hum and leaves Lucifer’s side.

He meets Niffty at the door. “Well, aren’t you just a little wisp of a thing!” He says when he sees the bag she carries. He takes it from her hands and gestures her down the stairs. “Come along, I’ll see if I have anything adequate for you to eat…”

His voice and Niffty’s enthusiastic reply fade as they descend, leaving only Lucifer and the growing grin of Sir Pentious.

Again, a secret little 'so sorry, gotta do it' for the next chapter. Pour one out for Pentious y'all

Chapter 1 🥧 Chapter 2 🥧 Chapter 3 🥧 Chapter 4 🥧 Chapter 5 🥧 Chapter 6  🥧Chapter 7

[taexoxosgf]

recent mark 📸

[blueiight]

somebody in the tags of that was like reue’s misogyny is too pitiful to be offended by and i was jtfo then i was like well. 25% of it is bc its internalized misogyny first off the other 25% is that theres not enough female charas in lotgh for reue to exhibit noticeable [?] patterns of misogynistic behavior toward bc its a milsf anime in the 80s, and i actually cant do math so the other 50% is unaccounted for

[saetoru]

Do you think there could be a chance where reader and bully! gojo meet again years later and try again? Maybe 🥹

part one here — contents. fem! reader, exes to lovers, neighbors to lovers, slight nsfw so minors do not interact, slight angst but it’s a hopeful (pretty much happy) ending, idk what else lmk what i missed

imagine you guys are neighbors—you accidentally meet when you’re both walking up to your apartment doors one night after work. he pauses, and you can feel eyes staring into you from the side so you look over and yeah. wow. there’s your worst heartbreak of your youth standing right there in all his glory, staring at you like you’re a figment of his imagination come true. like he never expected to see you again (you suppose he probably didn’t).

“hey,” he says softly. satoru has never been one to greet someone first, never been the one to reach out and bridge the gap himself. he always waits to be approached. that much has surprisingly changed since the last time you saw him.

“oh…” you trail off, “hi. it’s you.”

you don’t seem half as happy to see him as he does you—but that much is to be expected, of course. satoru didn’t have the luxury of moving on, you can tell because you still can read him just as easy after all these years. like he hasn’t changed the small quirks about him, like he’s still tried desperately to hold onto his past because that’s where you were. he still looks desperately in love like the night you left him.

it’s pathetic, you wanna say. to still be in love for so long. when it’s so clearly over and there’s no coming back. a small part of you is filled with this sick, evil satisfaction that he’s still thinking about you when you don’t spare him a single thought.

but you suppose you’re not at over him as you thought when there’s this much excitement bubbling into you at his suffering. maybe, if you were actually completely over him, you’d be indifferent to him. you wouldn’t forget, but you’d forgive. you’d hope he learned his lesson and spared another innocent, poor girl from what you suffered for simply loving him. for simply wanting him to feel cherished and special and worth someone’s time.

you hope he’s better now—not for yourself, but for someone else. he doesn’t deserve a second of your time.

“you live here?” he asks, mildly shocked.

you’re almost offended. does he mean he thinks you can’t afford to live in the same apartment building as him? or is he just that shocked to see you? nothing about satoru seems genuine—you can’t help but assume the worst in him.

“yes,” you say curtly, “i moved here for work.” (why did you add that? why are you giving an opening to make conversation?)

“oh, really? me too,” he nods. (why is he making conversation? why couldn’t he have just ignored that opening and spared you the trouble?)

“oh,” is all you say. it’s silent for a bit, and then, “well, i better—”

almost like he knows what you’re about to say, he cuts you off with a quick, “i teach now.” you blink, staring at him in confusion. he rubs his neck as he adds, “i uh…i teach at that high school down the block. so uh…that’s why i moved here.”

“that’s…that’s nice,” you nod awkwardly. why is he telling you all this?

“yeah, my students are really cool,” he adds with a grin—it’s…a bit cute, actually. because he means it. his smile is too fond for it to not be true.

this isn’t the satoru you know—at least, not the one you think is the real satoru. you’re not so sure which side of him is actually him.

“i’m glad you enjoy what you do,” you offer. there’s not much else to say. “i’ll be heading in now.”

“right,” he coughs, “s-see you around.”

and then you really do see him around.

sometimes, it’s when you both leave in the mornings—he lets you enter the elevator first and presses the button for you when he gets in. he always lets you exit first too, like he cares to be chivalrous even if you’re not together anymore. sometimes it’s when you’re coming home—he’s holding a bag of take out as he walks up to his own door. you suppose he’s never been one to cook, and that probably hasn’t changed. sometimes, you’ll see him at the grocery store too—his cart is usually just filled with snacks and sweets. it’s not a very adult like shopping cart, so something’s evidently never change.

and every time he sees you, he always tries to strike up a conversation. no matter how short of a window your time is. even if it’s the forty five second elevator ride from floor one to floor three, he’s determined to say something.

today my students got me a gift—it’s a pair of sunglasses, because he still apparently loves those.

i got to take my students on a field trip today. i’ve been planning it for weeks—they have to write a paper on it, though. they’re not too happy about that even if they enjoyed themselves.

today was my student yuji’s birthday. i let the others out early to celebrate with him—they’re apparently all a good bunch of kids. friendly and tight knit in a way satoru’s never experienced. he thinks kids should hold onto that. good friends are hard to come by, after all.

and you’re always guarded. always so cautious and careful when you talk to him. sometimes you try to be polite, other times it’s abundantly apparent you don’t want to converse. he doesn’t pay it any mind, though. just rambles away and away and away and talks enough for the both of you because he’s just happy you’ll listen. even if begrudgingly.

and then one night, it happens—it’s late and you had to stay extra in the office. you’re grumpy and tired and the only good thing about this is that it’s late enough that you probably won’t run into satoru today.

except he’s waiting right there, head against your door as he fidgets with the door knob and grumbles incoherently under his breath.

“stupid damn door,” he slurs, “jus’ fuckin’ open.”

“ahem,” you clear your throat—he stiffens. “any particular reason you’re trying to break in?”

he turns to face you—stumbles a little as his glossed eyes look at you in confusion. he’s drunk—you can smell the liquor on him.

“whad’ya mean? ‘s my door,” he holds an arm out to gesture at your door.

“no,” you sigh, pointing to the door next to yours, “that one is.”

“oh!” he perks up, “‘s why it wasn’t working?”

“most likely,” you nod awkwardly, “that’s usually how that works.”

you watch as he unceremoniously stumbles over his steps to his door—how he tries but fails to get his keys through the key hole before you sigh and take pity on him. you don’t have it in you to leave a drunk person out in the cold, no matter how much (bad) history you might have.

“here,” you sigh, grabbing his keys from his hand and opening the door for him. you try to ignore that brief moment of warmth where your hands brushed against each other.

“do y’know what today is?” he mumbles, breath fanning over your shoulder as you open his door.

“i….tuesday?” you ask, in confusion. he looks crestfallen when you stare his face.

“oh, n-never—” he stumbles a bit. you catch him before you realize. “never mind.”

somehow, you barely manage to help him to his couch before he’s passing out, too drunk to really register anything else. satoru never drinks much—it was the funniest part about him. you used to tease him for it all the time, for being a frat boy who can hardly handle some alcohol.

i like being in control, he’d say petulantly, i don’t need to be drunk to have a good time. i am the good time.

you take a quick glance around his place before you can catch yourself. it’s not very different from your place—the living room is the same size and the structure is more or less the same. his tv is a bit more expensive, and his furniture is more simple. that’s about it.

you glance down at him one last time before walking out and shutting the door behind you. you hesitate for a moment before turning on the screen of your phone to check the date—it takes you a moment, but then it hits you.

it’s the day you broke up. all those years ago. it’s certainly been a good few—you almost forgot the date, but apparently satoru remembers. he remembers enough to go get shit-faced drunk as if the memory is too much to bear.

does he do this every year? drink away his sorrows every anniversary of the day you left him? does he really still care that much? why hasn’t he moved on?

and then you stop thinking about it. it’s not your problem.

but then you just…can’t help but be a bit more gentle around him. it happens without your control. maybe it’s muscle memory. maybe you’re finally letting your muscles relax and do that involuntary thing of their own that they do.

evidently that’s to be more soft with the boy who broke your heart. except he’s a man now, you suppose. he should’ve been a man when you dated him—but you’re glad he grew up eventually. even if you couldn’t be there with him for it.

but you’re a bit more friendly with him now—you suppose you can coexist with your talkative neighbor that also happens to be your awful ex boyfriend. you answer him a bit more when he talks to you, ask him about his students when he brings them up—he brightens so much when you do. it’s….painfully endearing.

yuji is sweet, a little too kind for his own good. nobara is a little tough to soften up, but once you do, she loves tenfold. megumi is a grump, but he’s a real softie. yuta is a bit socially awkward, but he’s got a good heart. maki is all business and very studious, but she’s a determined young girl. panda is not a panda—his name is odd but he’s funny. toge is quiet, but he looks out for people.

they’re good kids. he cares a great deal about them.

and then you start to tell him about your job. how your boss is another baldy that’s annoying—just like the professor you both shared. he chuckles at that. your coworkers are a good gossip, but you’d never go hang out with them outside of work. well, maybe except for one—utahime is a nice person, even if a bit of a priss sometimes.

it’s nice, talking to him. he’s funny, makes banter easily like it’s second nature. sometimes….sometimes it feels like old times. you’re not so sure how you feel about that, but you think it’s not bad. you can be grown ups, the two of you. you can be adults and ignore your immature past. the hurt is still there, but it’s manageable now. doesn’t linger and doesn’t weigh on you anymore.

sometimes satoru still stares at you in that way he did all those years ago, sometimes he still stutters over his words and loses his train of thought when he meets your eyes. he still loves you—you knew that from the start.

you stopped loving him a long time ago. that’s what you thought, anyway—but sometimes seeing satoru is….too familiar. it makes you feel things you thought you buried away for good. maybe it’s just deja vu, maybe it’s just the history speaking for itself.

or maybe…maybe you’re starting to tread a more dangerous path. the one that led you to your first, and worst heartbreak. you can’t step foot on that path again, no matter what.

that’s what you tell yourself, anyway—but satoru and you are talking one night. in front of your doors, like usual. you’re excited from a raise at work, and he’s excited because his students have done exceptionally on their final exams and you’re both celebratory in spirit enough that it turns into a cheery hug—and then…and then you’re kissing.

that wasn’t supposed to happen, but it does. you don’t know who kisses who, but you’re both wrapped up in each other and your lips are pressed against the others and oh, he feels so, so familiar.

like home. even if it’s not always safe to be there anymore, it’s still your home. you can’t let go of that nostalgia.

and then his hands cup your cheeks and your arms wrap around his neck and suddenly he’s in your bed—your door was already unlocked and the two of you somehow managed to stumble through the entire apartment until your back hits your mattress. your place is similar enough to his that he finds your room without any issues.

it was never supposed to happen—the shedding of clothes and the desperately needy kisses. the way you held his face and he held you. the way he trembled as he touched you, scared he’d mess it up again. the way you laced your fingers and kissed him between his brows like old times.

and then he fucks you like he means it. has his head in the crook of your neck and sniffles into your skin, rolls his hips and makes you mewl his name while he tells you every good thing about you.

you’re beautiful, the prettiest he’s ever seen. you’re so soft when you love, so delicate with the ones who hold your affection, it’s too much for anyone to deserve. you’re laugh is like music, a melody that’s impossible to grow tired of. but the most important part? you look at everyone like they’re worth something—just for existing, just for being there with you and crossing your path. worth your time, and energy, and compassion. they never have to work for it.

it’s rare, finding someone like that. it’s even more rare to get them to fall in love with you—satoru has never stopped regretting letting that go.

he whispers that all through breathy moans and the occasional cracked sob. whimpers when your fingers lock into his hair and pull the strands when his swollen tip kisses that spot he never forgot how to find. you cum first, falling apart with a gasp—and he cums right after, like feeling you is what it takes to make him come undone.

you still do that thing you did—rubbing his back as he spills into you, soothing him as he pants harshly into your skin. the only difference is that you don’t kiss his head sweetly and call him yours. god, he misses that so, so badly.

when his body slumps over yours, it’s when it hits you, what you just did.

“oh no,” you breathe, “oh god. we….we shouldn’t have done that, should we?” you ask tiredly.

satoru’s lip is trembling—he can’t bear to have you regret him. not again.

“i love you,” he says desperately, “i…i never stopped.”

“obviously you didn’t love me enough,” you mumble, not looking at him. it’s something you’ve realized—looking satoru in his eyes makes you weak.

you can’t have that.

“i’ll love you more than enough now,” he promises.

“what if i say i don’t love you anymore, satoru?” you challenge, “it’s been years. i didn’t wait around for you.”

his breath shakes at that. you think you got him there, but apparently he’s determined. it shocks you.

“then i’ll love enough for the both of us.”

for a moment, you can’t help but think if only everyone could see him now. years later. gojo satoru begging you to let him love you hard enough that you don’t have to. being okay with half of you because that’s better than none of you.

it’s almost comical. maybe a little sad. entirely avoidable if he’d just been brave from the start.

“that’s not fair to you,” you sigh, “you’re an asshole but…but you don’t deserve that. you deserve someone who can love you—”

“then i’ll show you,” he grabs your hand, pressing it to his face as he looks at you with enough hope that it’s almost too cruel to crush it. even for someone like him. “i’ll show you how to love me again. it’ll be easier this time. i promise.”

there’s a tear that slips down his cheek—and then another and another and another. and your thumb, just like muscle memory, swipes it away.

you want to tell him—it’s always been so, so easy to love satoru. easier than anything in the world. easier than loving yourself. it came like second nature, flowed through your blood stream and pumped through your heart. you loved him so easily.

you wish he’d loved himself a little bit easier back then. maybe he’d have realized who was worth keeping and who wasn’t. maybe he’d be happier now—a selfish part of you thinks you could’ve been happier that way too.

“satoru,” you sigh, “i have more self respect these days.”

“i know,” he nods, “i’ll be good—so good. i promise. i’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed and we can have three cats and i’ll pay for the vet visits. just like you always wanted.”

you can’t help but chuckle at that. he’s always known how to be charming at the right times.

“and what about the fancy window i always wanted?”

“i’ll get you one of those too,” he swears, “find us a nice place by the school and your job and we’ll be the best cat parents ever. and i’ll be good. so good.”

“i can’t do that all again,” you shake your head, “crying over someone like you is not worth it.”

“i won’t make you cry,” he insists.

something in you screams to believe him—that voice from your youth. that one that never quite stopped falling in love. that one that can’t ever really let him go.

“you don’t deserve me,” you mumble, pulling him close. he tucks his head into your neck, kisses your skin and breathes you in like he needs you to live.

maybe he does.

“i know,” he murmurs. “but i love you. i’ll make you love me again.”

“good luck,” you snort—your hand weaves into his hair, and your lips kiss his head.

well….maybe he’s already succeeded.

[ivysoul]

leon overstimulating reader w his cock until she goes dumb all while being the sweetest guy ever.. thats it thats the request

i’m gon kiss you for this.

cw for dubcon (?)

he always does this. he always begs for you to cum ‘one more time’ and when you do, he keeps going. it wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy it, though. you loved any instance where leon had his cock inside of you. even better if he was drilling into you to the point where you weren’t even sure what was real and what was a figment of your imagination.

his cock just felt so good; thick and hitting all the right places. sometimes slowing enough to where you could feel every last vein, every last inch. he knew exactly how to get you going and how to make you cum.

your legs were shaking and your back lifted off of the bed on its own. he had pulled so many orgasms out of you at this point and you weren’t sure how many more you had left in you. but leon was sure to find out, one way or another.

“got another one in ya? hm? gonna cum on my cock again, sweetheart? i know ya can,” he spoke lowly in your ear, chest pressed to yours and hips pistoning back and forth. he caressed your hip with his thumb while he had his hold on you there, forcing you to stay in the position he wanted you in so he could continue fucking you. “be a good girl f’me, yeah?”

“lee-leon… can’t…” his cock moved in and out of your abused cunt. puffy, wet, and raw. you could barely think straight with him hitting the same spot repeatedly so well.

he kissed the tip of your nose, and then softly kissed your swollen, red lips. “yes, you can, baby. just give me one more, i promise, and then that’s it.”

you weren’t sure if the whine that came from you was because of the pleasure, pain, or the fact that you knew it was not the last one.

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Logan fighting with Wades Hullicinations and while it doesn't do shit, Wade finds it extremely romantic.

(Warning!! Mentions mental health issues such as ending your self and harmful intrusive thoughts.)

He just wakes up in the middle of the night to argueing and obviously, he gets all upset and ready to slash some face only to find that Wade's arguing with himself again.

You just see his shoulders, arms, and hair on the back of his neck go down as he rolls his eyes, rubbing his face because he's eepy.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"T-trying to win an argument agaisnt this limp dicked fucker." And he just crosses his arms and glares at an empty seat, and some tears staining his cheeks. It's obvious it's been a while.

"Oh my god- Wade, It's 3 in the morning! There's noth-" But he sees him tilt his head and glance at the chair multiple times, more tears forming.

Logan sighs heavily and is like, "Fine. Where is he? What the fuck is so important that hes saying it at 3 in the morning?"

At first, he doesn't answer, and he just stares at the chair as more tears form.

It hits Logan now that this isn't like one of the jokey times about the films he makes in his head rather a more damaging kind. He comes over and pulls his chin up and is like, "Hey! Litsen to me, What is that garbage of a person telling you? Hm?"

He pats his cheek, and Wade cries more, trying to nuzzle into his hand, mumbling all the intrusive thoughts that his brain is subconsciously telling himself through visual and auditory falsehood. That no one loves him, how he doesn't deserve to be alive because of all the bad things he's done, how even Mary Puppins thinks the world would be better without him, etc etc. A load of bullshit bassically.

"What!? No! Why would it tell you that?"

Wade just shrugs and looks at his lap, thinking Logans is going to yell at him for believing it and be disappointed in him, but instead Logan just gets up and goes ape shit on this poor chair, kicking it across the room, stabbing it, hitting it, etc.

All while Wade is watching in awe, not because Logan is getting the shadow man but it's the point that he would go so far and make a fool out of himself just to bring him peace of mind.

During the fight, he glances to the hullicination and is like "Oh you're so fucked when he finds you." And in Wades head it turns to him with a look of worry.

Then logan stands up, panting and is like "Did I get him!?"

Wade can't help but to sniffle, wipe his tears and giggle because yeah, watching your boyfriend beat the fuck out of a random chair for you was hilarious. Al wouldn't be happy in the morning to find it in peices, but he was extremely happy. "Ppfft- you gottem Tiger!"

Logan nods, looks at the mess he's made, shrugs it off, and goes back to the bedroom with a yawn. "Good... If they weren't such a bitch ass coward they'd show their face now wouldn't they? But they're too scared. And do we litsen to pussies?"

"I-"

"Do not say yes."

"No(?)"

"Atta boy. Now come on. Im fucking tired."

Wade turns to the not so scary, anymore figment of his imagination and is like, "This isn't over asshole. He'll kill you ❤️" Then runs off to bed like, "Can I get big spoon!? "

From there on, Wade will tattle on the thoughts, sometimes swinging at them himself, calling for Logan to beat them up. So far, Logan has broken multiple chairs, a coat rack, and has put about 27 holes in the wall just so Wade can get a good nights sleep. He never actually gets them, but its the distraction and thought that counted.

"Logan.. they're back.." "Show me where."

When your boyfriend is delulu, Violence is the Solulu.

[nicohischierz]

hiding in plain sight: hughes sister

tagging: @ivy-34, @francesfarhadi, @hzstry8, @cixrosie, @itsnotgray, @estapa94, @trevs-swiftie, @heartz4hischif you want to join the taglist let me know!!

luke had walked into jack’s room rubbing his chest.

“what’s going on bud?” jack asked, lowering his phone. luke crawled into jacks bed and laid in his back. “my chest hurts,” luke answered.

jack turned to his younger brother and continued asking questions, searching his symptoms up online before deciding if it required a trip to the doctors.

“ever since i moved here, i’ve got this dull ache in my chest and sometimes it hurts more than other times,” luke explained.

“do you think you’re homesick?” jack asked.

luke shrugged. “i asked quinn about it and he said he gets it too sometimes but quinn isn’t homesick anymore,”

jack couldn’t help and luke decided to give up. so the two brothers left it alone.

luke monitored the feeling in his chest and found it lightening on december 5th.

the whole family was in vancouver. everyone except you.

ellen, jim, jack, luke and quinn were in quinn’s apartment playing games when his doorbell rang.

the group weren’t expecting anyone so quinn was a bit apprehensive in opening the door.

“your lives have been made better!” you exclaimed hugging your oldest brother.

quinn hugged you back after clocking who you were. the older hughes boy squeezed you tightly, making sure you weren’t a figment of his imagination.

luke was next.

with the two of you being close in age, luke had missed you dearly. upon inhaling your comforting scent, the ache in luke’s chest lifted.

actually. when all three brothers saw you in the doorway, the aches in their chest vanished upon seeing their younger sister.

you smiled at jack after letting go of luke. the two of you may have had a disagreement before he left but he was still your older brother.

so you pulled him in for a hug as he clutched you tightly. “i’m sorry squish,” he whispered.

you pulled away from him and gestured for the other two to come close. “i missed you guys,” you announced, pulling all three brothers in for a hug.

that weekend, you spent as much time as you could with your brothers. you pestered them when you were bored and followed them into every room they visited.

“i mean i’m seeing you for christmas right?” luke had asked.

the devils were getting ready to leave for their next game and luke wanted to make sure his chest never ached again.

you shrugged. “my boyfriends going to sweden and asked if i wanted to come along. i haven’t thought about it much but sweden’s nice and i’ve never been but i barely get to see you guys,” you trailed off.

quinn squeezed your shoulder. “you should go. luke, jack and i have travelled for hockey before and i know you’ve always wanted to go,” he answered.

“i think you should stay.” luke intervened.

“why?” you asked.

“like you said you barely see us, so why make it less by leaving to go to sweden with your boyfriend that none of us know about,” luke added.

“i want to travel the world lukey. i love you guys so much but why do i have to make the compromise everytime.”

you picked up your bag and headed it the door. “whenever you guys are in boston, i have to make the drive to see you. i have to make sure i’m at the lake house every summer just to catch a glimpse of you guys. i’m tired of not putting myself first luke,” you explained.

"its funny cause all your friends make the effort to come see me but I have to be the one to see you," you added.

luke tried to come up with an explanation but you stopped him. you bid goodbye to your family and called for a cab to the airport.

the hughes brothers didn’t realise it at first but that ache in their chest was back and stronger than ever.

it wasn’t till christmas that they all realised it.

luke thought being with his parents would help but the ache was still there, gnawing away at his insides. he felt useless as he lay on the couch rubbing his chest as world juniors played in the background.

quinn and jack were dealing with the same pain as they found refuge on one of the sofas. ellen thought they were being over dramatic babies in need of their mother's care.

"what is going on with the three of you?" she asked, lifting luke's legs onto her lap. the three boys groaned.

"my chest hurts,"

"i feel sick,"

"jack's lying on my arm," they all complained.

"lukey, your chest hurts? why didn't you say anything sooner?" ellen started panicking.

luke shrugged. "i told those two and they thought it might be home sickness but it still hurts and I am literally at home,"

ellen furrowed her eyebrows and looked at her three babies "has it ever not hurt?" she asked.

"earlier in the month," they all replied.

"when?" ellen pressed.

"umm mine stopped when we were all in van, even squish," quinn answered.

"mine too," luke added.

"same," jack joined.

it didn't take long for the hughes matriarch to realise the brothers missed their younger sister.

"whenever you guys feel this pain, who's missing?" she asked quietly.

luke wasn't trying to answer the question directly when he replied "squish!"

in actual fact, the stream had panned to the crowd and their younger sister just so happened to make an appearance. she was sat next to rutger mcgroarty's sister donning a usntdp jersey that the three brothers knew didn't belong to them.

you had waved to the camera, the number two clearly visible on your sleeve before the camera panned down to the owner of the jersey, will smith.

"your sister loves you guys and i know you guys love her. but that boy looks at her like she hung the stars and the moon. he gives her the space to be herself, not just your younger sister," ellen explained.

it took the brothers a few weeks for their mother's words to truly settle in.

it wasn’t until the three brothers were together again and were on instagram when they came across a video with you and will in the background.

the two of you were smiling at each other as will was in the middle of putting his cap on you. the brothers could hear the laugh you let out.

it’s the one in so many of their home videos where you’re having the time of your life.

it’s also the laugh they haven’t heard in a while.

luke felt guilty for suggesting you should’ve stayed.

quinn felt like a bad brother for not making the same effort as you did.

and jack.

well he still felt guilty for what he did before he left for jersey.

[braxlrose]

i read your tom kaulitz weird and silly headcanons and i can't stop laughing 😭 wtf it's 4 am.. anyway will you do the same headcanons only with bill, pretty please?🤭 i know one hundred percent that this little bastard isn't so innocent what he looks like.. i'm sure he's as dirty as Tom 😭 btw sorry engilsh is not my first language ☠️ Greetings from Poland!!:)

(his skirt is so cute?!?)

Cześć jeszcze raz! Rzadko spotykam Polaków, więc cieszy mnie możliwość ćwiczenia języka polskiego!

also his skirt is super cute omg

silly and weird bill headcanons

cw: mentioned oral(f and m!recieving), making out, nipple play?, etc

-you are completely right, this mf is far from innocent 💀 tom is seen as the dirty minded one but this little shit would make the most dirty fucking jokes every and then act all innocent LIKE BITCH

-he's also passive aggressive. like very passive aggressive. pookie can't help it 😪

-the first time you, him and tom all got high together he got super paranoid and thought that you guys were all just figments of a dog's imagination

-when you guys are spooning, he reaches underneath your shirt and cups your boobs. it helps him fall asleep quicker apparently

-but sometimes when he's feeling like a little shit, he'll tweak and pull at your nipples and you have to slap him away. so then you make him promise not to do it again. spoiler alert. he does it again 😐

-hes an impatient mf so the amount he's burned his tongue after heating up a pop tart 😒 like bitch..just wait the two fucking minutes

-he loves kissing your temple and your forehead

-during the winter, if his hands are cold he asks if he can put his hand in your pants. 💀 like that's his exact words. "Can I put my hand down your pants?" he says it's because you're warmer down there than he is, but I think it's just cuz he's a dirty minded little fuck

-when cooking marshmallows over the fire, it's a 50/50 thing. Sometimes he's super patient and will wait and make his marshmallows a crispy, perfect golden brown color and other times he gets to lazy and will just shove it in the fire.

-he also thinks it's like the coolest thing in the entire world when his whole marshmallow is on fire

-he didn't know how to snap until he was like 16 and always got mad whenever tom could do it 😭

-he was super happy when he realized that he was the taller twin bc tom was allllwayyss talking about how he was 10 minutes older.

-YOU GUYS GOT MATCHING TATTOOS

-he literally loves getting matching tattoos with you, he thinks it's so cute and fucking loves it. somehow he convinced the both of you to get some dumb ones 💀

-when you two were little kids he used to beg the teacher to make you, him and tom partners. lil bro would get down on his knees

-speaking of getting down on his knees, the first time he went down on you he "accidentally" 🤨 bit your clit. I still say he did it on purpose though

-you guys know that thing that Gomez does with Morticia when she reaches her arms to the side and he kisses from her finger tips to the other finger tips? yall know what I'm talking about? WELL BILL DOES THAT

-he likes to sleep naked sometimes. because it's "better for sleeping" but I think it's just because he wants to sleep next to naked you.

-almost drowned tom at the pool 💀...multiple times

-him and tom make you sit by the pool and then make you tell them who's cannon ball was better. and this isn't just a like 16 yr old boy thing. they do this at 33 too.

-bill once stood up upside-down on a keg and drank it 😧. not the whole thing but it was super crazy. you later found out it was because tom didn't think he would do it

-he once jerked off in class and found a way so nobody would notice him EXCEPT YOU 😨 MF YOU WERE TRAUMATIZED

-he also doesn't know how to lock a door. so you'll just walk in and he'll be jerking off, or you'll turn a corner in his house and he'll be jerking off, you go to use the bathroom and he'll be jerking off. "I'm a teenage boy it's what we do!" BRUH GET A HOBBY

-if you don't know german, he'll randomly say dirty stuff to you in german. BUT THEN PROCEED TO GET MAD AT TOM IF HE TEACHES YOU BAD WORDS IN GERMAN 🙄

-he loves sitting in your lap when making out. like obviously he loves it when you sit in his lap, but he LOVES when he gets to sit on top of you and kiss you

-the first time he tried to give you hickies, he wasn't completely sure how to and ended up biting you 💀

-he's not a morning person, we all know this. so if you want to get him out of bed, you will have to drag him out by his feet.

-his dick is big. we all know this, but the first time you tried to give him oral, he accidentally slapped your face w/ his dick 😭

ANYWAYYSSS TY SM FOR THE REQUEST POOKIE I HOPE MY POLNISCH WASNT TOO BAD

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @dead-tapes @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles

[1nthedarknessofthenight]

﴾ i drink your blood and i eat your skin, part nine.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x f!reader

genre: vampire au

word count: 17K

warnings: suggestive

masterlist

playlist

──────────────────────

Was is it love or was is it obsession? Or perhaps it was the need to possess someone, so the only thing they could see, hear or taste was him. Your fingers grazed over the page that you kept reading over and over again. “And you, their best beloved one, are now to me, flesh of my flesh; blood of my blood; kin of my kin; my bountiful wine-press for a while; and shall be later on my companion and my helper.” Your frown deepened at those words.

Were you just as blinded as her? There wasn’t any love, only the need to dominate. Were you just as blind as Mina was too blind to see the truth? This portrait of love — this obsession was completely different from what you have seen with your own eyes. You thought that maybe reading would make you feel better, see that you are not alone, but it only made your thoughts worse. Her supposed lover was nothing more than a greedy man. He didn’t love her. He didn’t.

Though somehow you feel like it didn’t reflect your situation at all, the story progressed into something completely different than you thought it would. You thought it would make the fog disappear and help you understand him better, but the confusion is only greater now. He is not the same as the man in the book. He wasn’t cruel to you. He wasn’t a bad man. He saved you, was nothing but kind to you. He was a real person afterall, more than a few words in a book, more than a creature thriving from the fear of the innocent.

You can’t just let words on paper tell you how to feel. You just have to go to him and…then maybe you could finally see him for he truly is.

You close the book, sighing at sight of all the other books on the nightstand that were still waiting for you, placing the one you were holding on the rest of them. Your right hand played with the soft fabric of the sheets — cold. Your eyes then flicker to the spot next to you, caressing the dent left behind and somehow you just don’t have the heart to smoothen down those wrinkles.

You remember the way his cold skin felt on yours, so piercing that you don’t even remember any fabric separating you two. He isn’t here, but it is like you could still feel him. You hate yourself for pulling away, so abruptly that you were yourself hurt by your own lack of touch. You just can’t help yourself from thinking that one day he would just vanish, like he was just a figment of your imagination. That you would touch him and he would turn into nothing — but you already now that won’t happened…You have touched each other, hands on each other’s skins, delicately grazing in a sense of eagerness…hunger. You could see it sometimes in his eyes, just for a split second, like he didn’t actually want you to see it. Maybe to not scare you away...but it only made you want more.

For how long can you pretend that he isn’t the only thing you can think about? From the moment you met him, there wasn’t a time of the day when you didn’t thought of him, dreamt about him. From his voice, to his simple smiles, eyes and lips…you hope this isn’t turning into what you think it is. You did feel this emotion easily, too easily and you are determined to stop it from ever coming out again, as you only got hurt in the process. But this feels different from any other time, because it felt like it wasn’t only coming from you. You don’t know what to do…you really do say that a lot. You didn’t even know him and if you did get to know him, would it change — or would it become even more difficult to ignore?

You have to keep yourself occupied, so you wouldn’t think so much, but every time you were with him, it seemed like you didn’t think at all. Almost like you were comfortable enough for him to think for you. After all those moments, when you finally got your moment alone, you always thought about what you should have said instead. However you realize that each time you spoke to him more and more, you would become more honest with your answers, but still being bashful enough to say more than a few words. You think that sometimes your own words confuse you, because you kind of got used to not talking so much. But he did listen every time. Carefully going over each syllable that would fall from your lips, looking at the smallest of changes in your expression.

Letting your feet carry you to the closet, you become highly aware of how quiet it is. Every step you took, the floor creaked under your feet that high pitched noise echoing in the silent room. Somehow you hated it, the silence. You did get used to it, but everything that happened yesterday made shivers ran down your spine. Your eyes would stare around each corner of the room, just waiting for something or someone to jump right at you.

The feeling of being watched made goosebumps appear on your skin, anxiety stabbing you in the heart that only seemed to acrease on speed. The thing that scared you the most was the fact that you didn’t want to be alone. Your eyes started to play tricks on you, making you see things that weren’t truly there, but you just knew that somehow there was something — someone just lurking. Creeping up on you and the thought made you feel like a scared little girl. Was it the need of being protected that made you want to be closer to him? You hate that somehow it wasn’t the only thing.

He did make you feel safe — still remembering how it felt to be in his arms. You think you are slowly starting to lose your mind…

Your fingers wrapped around the handle to the closet, opening it, ready to pick the robe hanging on the inside of the now open door, but your hand only glazed over it. Your eyes were dead set on a piece of clothing that you thought, you would never see again. You didn’t even realize it till now how much it was imprinted in your mind. You don’t even register your own hand, falling on the soft fabric of the shirt, however as you do that you almost jump away when you suddenly feel something touch your fingers. You know that it is slightly inappropriate for you to run through his closet, but you simply thought it was yours and you were already pulling the shirt from the hanger.

You could remember exactly how the fabric shined under the moonlight that night. How it almost mirrored the river and how it got stained with…blood. Your lips parted as you see the stain at the front of the shirt. It still felt wet, fresh, but your fingers weren’t coated in the red liquid, it was only the cold fabric tickling you. You take in a deep breath, smelling the irony smell from the blood as well as the smell of him. Why did he not throw it away or at least washed it? It made you feel a little uneasy and it wasn’t because you were holding something stained with someone’s blood.

It was the thing that he probably kept it like this because of you…He kept it like a trophy.

You started to become slightly sick at the thought of him just keeping it like this for you. The shirt started to get wrinkles from your tight hold as it burned your skin. You can’t forgot when he basically told you that he stalked you every night after that. You don’t think he redeemed himself enough to win your trust. Maybe it was just his nature, but you can’t help yourself from feeling relief wash over you as you put the shirt back in the closet, closing the doors quickly after that, like it would jump on you.

A heavy breath leaves you then, before deciding to just ignore this little information. Should you ask him why he kept it? And also admit the fact you were basically going through his stuff? You couldn’t possibly survive the embarrassment. You will keep quiet for now, maybe to see if you would get even something more creepy out of him. This definitely isn’t the only thing that he didn’t tell you…

You walk away from the closet to the other, opening it and realizing that you didn’t even took the robe. Though as you stare at the gleaming fabric of those dresses Hyunjin was so happy to give you, you completely forgot about your usual option of attire. ‘I wish to see you in them…’Your fingers hover over a dress that particularly spoke to you, tugging it to you. The soft yellow and pink color reflected in the light, multiple layers spilling over your fingers. So soft to the touch and light — you couldn’t help, but sigh at the feeling.

As you took it off the hanger, even knowing this is a gift for you, you somehow know that he will be the one getting the most pleasure from seeing you dressed in it.

────

Your lips puff out as you exhale, flickering away the loose piece of your hair that fell into your line of vision. The door, still closed, like a barrier, seem to mock you. It was calling you a coward. You stood few feet from it, the distance almost feeling like it was truly miles away. Somehow it was, because you felt like you were doing a big step. You spend a good time putting yourself together — and it seems like it was only for him. However after putting that dress on, the soft pink and yellow fabric spilling around you, hair brushed and pulled loosely up, you realize you also needed this.

Were you only this nervous, because you were scared of what he might think of you? You have never seen yourself like this. The expensive dress hugged you so well and you become highly aware that he somehow had to sneak in to your own home to know your exact size. Was it thoughtful and nice or just borderline creepy? Both you think…You are really being nervous because of him. That scared you more than him telling you, he didn’t like what he was seeing.

You take a careful step forward. Feeling your legs get heavy, hands clamping together, sweat pooling inside your palms. You still can just walk away, dress back in to your nightgown and just lay back into the bed. You are your biggest enemy right now, waiting to see if you truly have the courage to let him see you like this, knowing that it was mostly just for him. You really can’t do this…not going further, but back. Back to being your old self again, scared and just surviving. You can finally go and do something about this thing you were calling life. And what do you even know? Maybe if someone truly is trying to kill you, this might be your only chance. As silly and overdramatized as it sounded, it is the truth. So you do take a step. Each one feeling lighter and lighter, the ringing in your ears clearing up and the fog before your eyes disappearing as you got closer and closer to your destination, before you finally stood right before it.

Your eyes fall firstly to the light peaking under the door, before following the length of your skirt, fingers immediately smoothing down the invisible wrinkles. Your hand exchange to the handle, seeing yourself in the reflection of the gold, letting you get a last look at yourself, before you would open it. However you wondered if you should knock firstly. Battling with yourself, you decided to just let yourself in, but before you could do that a muffled sounds came from behind the still closed door.

Frown falls on to your face, fingers just grazing the cold metal of the handle. From what you could hear, there were probably multiple people talking at once, almost sounding like they were having an argument. Before you could stop yourself, you were already listening in, trying hard to ignore the fact that you are literally eavesdropping right now. The hushed voices were too quiet to pinpoint at least the topic of the conversation, making you press your ear to the wood. You want to justify yourself that you are only listening to know if it is a proper time to come in. The mumbling voices died down at your move, making confusion strike you, little frustrated of not getting anything. The cold wood touching your ear suddenly seem to burn you or maybe it was just the embarrassment as you almost jump right out of your skin when there is a sudden booming voice piercing through the silence.

“You know…it’s not very nice to listen to someone else’s conversation.”

You cringe at the fact you were just caught, feeling so stupid of even trying, because you sometimes forget the fact that this house has ears everywhere. They probably already knew about you from the moment you step out of the bedroom and you just had to embarrassed yourself further.

You take a step back, hand tugging at the top of your dress, like there is an invisible collar choking you. You were actually ready to just turn around and leave, running down the hallway in embarrassment and falling down on to the soft bed in hopes it would swallow you whole. However you don’t even have time to take another step back as the same voice, now softer, like just knowing about your own inner battle, spoke up and you know your heart could be heard pumping even through the door. “Come in.” You think you do recognize the voice, but hearing it in such soft tone as well as also through the heavy wooden door, you can’t put a face to it.

Do you want to? You are now acting like if you wouldn’t embarrassed yourself, you would be already inside, fully confident in yourself. There probably isn’t a way out of it now it seems. It would only be rude of you to just walk away and ignore their invention. You were so curious about what they were talking so passionately about till now…You start to feel sick, anxiety bubbling inside you the more you just stand there. Your eyes fall back to the handle, hand reaching out and twisting it, hearing a satisfying click. The sound echoes a little in your head as you open the door wider, before finally stepping inside.

The second you close the door behind you, you finally look up. The room was lighted only by the big fire place right behind the long table where they all sat. Your eyes, before going to them, look around the room. It seems like every room had its own personality — this one made you feel safe, however the authority and dominance radiating from the men before you, made you also feel so little. On the walls were few paintings and you let your eyes travel to each one of them, but one particularly stood out to you.

On the painting were the same eight men who sat just a few feet away from you. The painting was almost the whole size of the wall and seemed recent, but what can you know — they probably never changed since. Their eyes held power, the real ones piercing through your skin, giving you a real sense of how truly powerful they feel.

Your head turns to them, stopping on the man who sat on the left end of the table. You remember him from yesterday. Longer blond hair, eyes darker than a night, but they seem to flicker golden the longer you would look into them. He looked the youngest out of everyone, but those eyes were telling you that he has seen more than you could ever imagine. Next to him was the dark haired man you met at the stables and not like his friend on his right, you did know his name. Seungmin, his eyes held the same color, right hand playing with a cup that held a suspicious red liquid. However he held a small amusement at your silence, almost like enjoying the attention you were giving him and as the right corner of his lips started to turn up, you had to look away to the next one.

This one also smirked at you, but it was softer, sweet even. His features were delicate, cheeks round, eyes hidden behind his hair. You almost thought that you haven’t met him before, but as his head tilted ever so slightly at your stare, you realize you did know him. You have met him briefly, well seen him. You didn’t know his name either, but you were sure this man was with Minho the night at the club. Remembering the way he calm down the usually, cold man when he was upset about something. You at that look at the said man and of course he didn’t mirror the happy expression as the man next to him. You didn’t expect anything else from him, but you note that he was the one who spoke up when you were behind the door. It was like his eyes were just telling you it was him, still slightly shocked about the fact that he could even talk in such tone as his face didn’t seem to match it. Maybe it was just a mask, still being careful around you, though you both know, you wouldn’t be able to do anything.

At the center of the table sat the man you had just few ocounters with. On the day you were basically kidnapped — you don’t think you will ever forget or forgive about that and also yesterday when it happened. You from the moment you first saw him just knew he was somehow in charge here. Everyone here was…but he looked like the leader. Almost scary aura radiated from him as he looked you up and down with his brown eyes. The way the fire gave him a halo around his head, made you again unable to look any longer at him, because he was simply too intimidating. So your eyes then fall on the man on his left. Now, how can you not remember him? The man who held you hostage in his arms, the man who made you feel so useless and weak under him. You remember the way he was so smug about the whole situation, finding it even funnier when you try to wiggle out his grip and he reminds you of that time again as the corner of his mouth lifts ever so slightly. Your own lips purse at that, already knowing he is thinking about that memory.

From the same day, you remember the man with even longer hair than the first one. You think that out of everyone, he seemed the most happy with your presence — other than the man with puffy cheeks. Felix, if you remember correctly. You remember his name, because he was the one who was the first to show you real kindness. When you felt scared, he made you feel safe in this foreign house. You do have to thank him for that someday. Your own face softens at the bright smile he sends your way, eyes twinkling in the orange light of the room. You just couldn’t help yourself from giving a small smile in return, but it fell as you looked at him.

Hyunjin couldn’t look away from you the moment you stepped inside the room. If he did need to be breathe, it would only be taken away from him simply by the sight of you. You were a breath of fresh air, delicate as a flower. You do remind him of that as his eyes kept trailing over your figure that was wrapped in a dress which he specifically picked out for you. It warms him from the inside, head completely clean of every thought. The colors complimented you so well, looking even more beautiful in the soft orange light coming from the fire place.

His lips were parted, simply in awe of you. He realized, he was starting to get soft. Just a look it all took for him to feel at your mercy. When his eyes fell onto your features — that beautiful smile you just shared with his friend still lingered on your lips, softly bitten and pink. He can’t argue with the fact that he was also slightly jealous as you haven’t given him such a soft and bashful smile before. Though he felt small pride at the fact that he wasn’t the only one mesmerized by you.

Your heart skipped a beat the moment when you first looked at him. The blue eyes of his, you become quite found of, held softness so deep, you couldn’t help but feel giddy inside. He didn’t say anything to you yet, but his eyes told you everything you needed to know. He liked what he was seeing — he liked…you. In a sense of you dressing up for him, you have to remind yourself…

A cough coming from the man at the center of the table, makes you snap out of your thoughts, head turning to his direction. “Please–“ He spoke up, hand gesturing to the empty seat right next to Hyunjin, almost like it was meant for you all along. “–as you were so eager to join us.”

An embarrassed sound comes out of your mouth, hearing that only made him more amused. “I didn’t mean to…” You say, rather quickly. Looking around the table, before a sigh leaves your lips. “But if I’m part of this conversation shouldn’t I be present also?” The man next to Minho gave you a grin in return, the whole table a little shocked by your sudden statement. You actually just had a small feeling that the conversation was about you, but by their reaction it seems like you assumed right.

You then make your way to the chair meant for you, eyes completely everywhere, but him. Hyunjin at your closeness quickly stood up from his seat, straightening his back, before going around the table to pull out the chair for you, making you momentarily stumble as the movement was so quick it almost scared you. A short laugh leaves you at your own doings, expecting the gesture by looking up at him. You did meant to only glance at him, but as he was already looking at you, it made you jump slightly. The closeness your faces were in made time froze, but you do quickly got yourself out of it at the realization you two were not in fact alone, a whole audience right before you. Not like something would happened if they wouldn’t present.

Hyunjin wraps himself around your natural scent. The way your hair was up, made you completely bare for him to take in. His eyes just for a split second flicker to the prominent vein in your neck, skin looking so soft that he has hard time controlling his hands. His knuckles turn white as he let himself stand behind you, his own casting a shadow over you. These quick moments that felt so long for both of you, weren’t definitely missed by the others. He, other than you, did look at them, almost rolling his eyes at the obvious teasing looks.

A laugh, so quiet you couldn’t possibly hear it, was released from the youngest’s lips, a few smiles being shared in return. You look up, eyes traveling to the man who held the most authority. He looked at you with a hard stare, but the furrow in his eyebrows told you, it wasn’t anger, but concern instead. Concern over you.

The more you look at each other, the more the others seem to notice the change in the room. “Y/N.” He says and at the sound of your name you remember his. Chan. “Someone knows that you are here and I won’t sugar coat this situation any further…you are in danger and not only you, but also your closest.”

Air gets stuck in your throat. How did you not think of that? A new sense of fear strikes you, eyes wide, frightened. You felt horrible that you didn’t think of this yourself. Your mind was till now so occupied, basically only thinking about your own safety first. You know that if you would voice out your thoughts about how horrible you are starting to feel, because you didn’t even think about your loved ones, Hyunjin would immediately shot those thoughts off. You are grateful for him being so concern about you, but he just needs to understand that you are also concern about others. You could feel his stare at the back of your head and you are sure that he already knows about your feelings.

You can’t breathe from the thought of someone hurting Mia or the Johnson’s, eyes unwillingly stinging as you look up from the glossy table to Seungmin. “This someone only after few days of you being here, knows about your presence and position.” He says, red lips pulled in a thin line. Even if he didn’t seem like the type to show emotions often, you could just feel the worry radiating from him.

Those nights that you spend here, felt so quick and blurry in some way to you, but they were probably enough for someone to notice you. You can’t help, but feel confused. You know about their powers, but you didn’t spend so much time outside for anyone to see you, but even in the few minutes when you did, this someone certainly wanted you to remember that day. The logical and frightening truth probably is that they already knew about you from the beginning, maybe even right after Hyunjin made his appearance…

“But how?” You breathe out, looking over the whole table, throat dry. “I mean, why my presence matters anyway?”

Chan shakes his head at your words. You should know that you do matter, you are significant. The brunette looks at his family, before again looking at you. “After being on this earth for more than a millennium, we all made a lot of allies as well as enemies and those who seek revenge, now have seen a new light, hope…” He clasps his hands together, gesturing at you. “And you are it, Y/N.”

Your head swirls, fuzzy from his statement. Goosebumps rise all over your body, feeling how the fingers behind your head tighten around the headrest, wood cracking slightly. “It also doesn’t help that you are human.” Continues Minho, stating the obvious for the whole room.

It is quiet after that, the only noise being the flames licking at the wood in the fireplace. Were all their enemies so scared of them that they didn’t have the courage to even try going after them firstly? You can’t question this person’s motives as you are easier, way more weak opponent. However you are simply not getting over the fact that going after you, is meant to hurt Hyunjin more.

His lost half, soulmate held captive, tortured, only held alive for them to ease their thirst or just killing you — it makes him sick to his stomach.

The dark haired man is again the one slicing through the silence as he takes his cup before him, sighing into it, throwing back anything that is left. “Or we can make it easier for you — you know just a little pain and…”

You don’t know if it was meant to be just a little teasing remark, but you weren’t really in the mood as well as the others. Your whole body vibrates when the man behind you growls at those words. The noise came from the back of his throat and if you would just turn around, you would quiver at the horrifying sight of his eyes turning completely red. “Now it’s not the time for jokes, Seungmin.” Hyunjin sneers, looming over you, like caging you into him and you could feel his scent really pulling you into him.

The man that just joked, gives him a funny look, but you can’t miss the brief look at others who are also a little shocked, but not surprised. They have never seen Hyunjin so protective over someone like that, but they can’t judge him, because Seungmin’s words were really not fitting.

Though you can’t keep yourself back from thinking about the offer. You don’t think you could, you actually feel like this is the first time you felt alive as wild as it sounds. The thought of how long you will stay alive did come over you. Hyunjin is immortal and you are just a human. Would he let you live? Get old? You don’t want to think further, because you are still not close enough to each other to even think about this. But you do wonder if in the future, you would really think about this offer…

The thought of death leads you to the present. You were close to it multiple of times since you met him and you really can’t stomach that something like those things or even worse would happen to your friend Mia or the Johnson’s family. Your lip quivers, but you still held your unshed tears, knowing that they won’t help you in this situation, knowing that they would only make you feel deeper, make you blind. You need to think and quick about how to safe them from this person. You don’t even care about yourself anymore.

“So because of that my family — my ehm…there are in danger just because of me?” You whisper, already knowing the answer. Your voice unwillingly broke at the end, not missing everyone’s darkened expressions.

You swallow the lump in your throat, breath momentarily hitching as you feel a brief touch at the back of your neck, making you turn your around. Hyunjin leans over you, giving you a look of determination, his fingers still playing with the short hairs at the back of your neck. “We will protect them. I will make sure that the best of my men will be there to protect them, at night and even at day.” His voice is firm, letting the weight off your shoulders slightly fall as he sounded so confident in himself.

You give him a look, sort of sweet for a split second, catching the frown on his face soften. “This is so….I just don’t understand.” You really do say that a lot, your brain really can’t take all of these things at once, finding this whole situation — reality quite insane. Why did everything became worse? Now you are scared even more, because someone you didn’t even know wants to intentionally hurt you and more.

Hyunjin’s blue eyes flicker to the wrinkles on your forehead, wishing that they won’t become permanent. He couldn’t say this, but he also feels lost. He thinks that before all of this it was already hard for him, but now someone is trying to hurt you again. And he thinks that he maybe will not be enough. They were so close to you…He will not stop fighting for you, he will protect you, even if this someone could be anyone, he will protect you. Hyunjin knows that it is wrong to feel like this somehow help him and you get over the less important things, letting each other see both of yours more vulnerable sides.

He again, straightened his back, but he lets his body rest on the side of the armrest of your chair. The subtle move and you letting him be so close to you, meant so much for him. His gaze falls on to his dear friend, blond hair tugged behind his ear and by that he could see the concern on his soft features. Everyone is concerned for you, but him being the closest to him — he couldn’t help, but feel the most determined to eliminate this danger. “What should we do?” Felix cuts the tension.

“What can I do?” You join in. You can’t let them get into this without you. You know that this is probably their issue to solve, but you are still relevant.

“Nothing.” Says Minho, looking at you like you just grew second head. “We do nothing.” He looks around the whole room, his words shocking you and you definitely weren’t the only one confused about his verdict.

Hyunjin stares at him with wild look, scoffing at his statement. “I’m not going to sit here and wait, knowing that there were this close to her.” He says, voice raised, but you don’t have the courage to say something to him to calm down, because something tells you that maybe you shouldn’t be taking this lightly at all. Yesterday you try to block out everything that happened, but it was only the beginning to this horrible person’s plan and that did make you fear for your literal life.

“If they wanted her dead, they would’ve done it by now.” Says now the man who you only met the first day here, the one that hold you captive in his arms, but it all seems so long ago to you now. He held his head high, hand rubbing his chin. “They are seeking something more.”

You did already know that but hearing it like that makes you shiver from the unknown. “Yes, but if we do stay quiet, we will only give them time to build an alliance with everyone we’ve ever wronged.” Points out the vampire next you, looking up at him, just catching him stumble over his words. Though he held his voice leveled, the look of distress can’t be missed. You are starting to feel even worse, knowing that all of this is just because of you.

“Hyunjin’s right–“ Speaks up the man with puffy cheeks, leaning over the table to see you properly. “This isn’t just about her anymore.” What did you got yourself into? What did you get them into?

The man in the middle sighs, clasping his hands, gaining everyone’s attention. “So we shall do the same…we will make even more powerful army.” Chan then glances at you, reaching his hand out to you, like he wanted to touch you. “We will protect you.”

The way he voice out those words made you feel like there is something more to it. The undertone didn’t come unnoticed, everyone’s mood shifts into something you couldn’t quite understand. There was a hidden meaning in his statement and they all seem to be on high alert.

“If you’re referring–“ Starts off Minho, but he is only caught off by the elder.

“I am.” Chan says, making his brother only blink at his answer.

Confusion from your side is obvious, watching how the room turns glum. You can’t help, but look at each one of their faces. Some had their lips pulled down, others try to keep their faces as hard as possible, but in all of their eyes shined the same thing, completely different from the emotions they are showing. You turn your head, trailing your eyes from the hand wrapped on the armrest, going up to the length of it, before you stop at Hyunjin’s face. He didn’t turn his head to you, his Adam’s apple subtly bobbing up and down as he could feel your hard stare. They all looked unsure, sad…scared. Your lips part at your assumption. Can there even be something for them to be frightened of? Maybe it is not it fully, they are hiding something though, you will have to know sooner or later.

“What are you talking about?” You ask, eyes going everywhere around the room and Minho is the one to answer to you, eyes reflecting the flames in the fireplace.

“We are talking about the first ever vampires.” He sighs through his nose, head hanging low. “The same vampires that created us.” You choke over your answer, before realizing that you don’t even know what to say to this information. You sit up straighter, invested. The first ever vampires…

“We were their first ever creation and that made us equal. We are known as the second strongest vampire clan.” Chan continues, you holding your breath. “The original vampires can’t be killed, because it would also mean that every other vampire that was ever created would die with them…their blood bounds us all together.”

“Every vampire yearns for power.” Hyunjin says, looking down into your wide eyes. “They can’t kill the strongest, so the only option for them is us…it’s not the first time someone tried to take over everything we made.”

“The originals don’t care about anyone.” Says the blonde at the far end of the table, but his eyes are set on the table before him.

“We became unusable for them after a while…” Says Minho through gritted teeth, the man with soft features putting a hand on his shoulder, but he only shrugged it off.

You have never seen Minho since you met him so emotional, it only answers your question if the vampires that created them were somehow close to them. Your head spins slightly from all of the things you just heard. “So someone is trying to get to you, through me?” You ask, whispering, but you know all of them could hear you.

You are just stating the obvious and you can’t help, but become again concern, but it was now for them. Someone is trying to use you, knowing that at least one of the members of the second strongest vampire clan would try anything to prevent them from hurting you. Something is telling you that Hyunjin would not be the only one protecting you. If something would happen, each one of them would protect the other. You don’t know him for that long…but just the thought…the thought of something happening to him makes your heart ache. You can’t breathe simply at just the thought, hand pressing into your chest. You could feel your heart jumping wildly, awful, painful feeling coming over you. “But why?” You breathe out, mostly to catch your breath that was stolen from you.

“Jealousy must of the time…why were we picked over them?” Felix answers you. “But also, because we couldn’t control our hunger for many years, creating vampires unknowingly, because we killed their loved ones…” His teal eyes, flicker to the man next to you, before going back to you.

“We’ve done many terrible things, all of us.” Chan explains, listening to the sudden rapid beating of your heart, not ignoring this subtle sign. By it they could tell that your feelings you were expressing were genuine. “And also — no one likes being told what to do after some hundred years or so, they want new rulers.”

“We take orders from the originals.” Says to you the strong man next to him. “We have a list of every vampire ever created and take responsibility for keeping humans unknown of our existence.”You still at that, leaning your back into the chair as if to make yourself smaller. You are not scared that they would do something to you, but you just know that them going against the rules, because of you maybe meant even a bigger threat to their undead lives.

Hyunjin could feel your body go solid for a second, leaning his own on the back of your chair to possible tell you to not be frightened, but as Minho speaks, his efforts go completely unnoticed by you. “You’re human and you know about us, but maybe if we would talk this through with them, they wouldn’t have to kill you.”

Everyone could hear the small noise coming out of your mouth, noise of complete fright. However you feel that death is really becoming such a close friend to you in some way or another, but you still don’t feel charmed by it. You feel like both ends are slowly closing around you, your fate sealing right before your very eyes. “Kill me?” If you all would just wait, there is a high possibility of this person to just snatching you from them as they were already so close to you. If you would all come begging the oldest vampires for their mercy, it would also lead to possible death.

You don’t even hear the room anymore, eyes wide open, staring into the palms of your hands. You think you are drowning yourself slowly into the thought of death. You can’t help the small tears of horror forming in your eyes. You don’t hear anything for a moment, their voices just a high pitched ringing sound.

Hyunjin never felt so defeated before while looking at your state. So pathetic of him to not be the only one to protect you, but if it meant for him to visit his past to save your future, he will do it. Your hands shake from your nerves, so many emotions seeping out of you, intoxicating the air in the room. His hand travels from the chair to your high cheek bone completely unknowingly to him till his cold skin touched your burning one. He feels your body melt at the subtle touch and before you can’t even react yourself, your head tilts up to look up at him.

The ghost touch from the tip of his fingers move the fine hairs away from your sight, blurry eyes gazing into his. They were suddenly so deep in color that you for a moment stop the thoughts running through you, calming your racing heart like a sweet melody. A voice cuts in to the shared moment of vulnerability, your hearing suddenly clearing, not even realizing the conversation still kept going.

“If we tried to hide her, it would only raised more chaos. We all know the rules, because we helped creating them.”

Everyone knew the high possibility of all the vampires taking this opportunity to strike, but at what cost. This all could lead to something greater than your death. You could be the leading cause of a massacre, you could result the death of him, them, your loved ones and possibly even more people. You are starting to see the cost you will bring if this doesn’t go well planned. Even creatures like vampires, had their own rules and would happen if they would be free? You really do not want to know.

You swallow your unshed tears, eyes still on the man before you. Hyunjin doesn’t look away from you, even for a second, chest rising, like showing you to take deeper breaths. It did help you find your ground again. You are starting to feel more leveled with your emotions and it is only because of him.

As you calm down a little from the rollercoaster of emotions, you just realize how much silent it is. Everyone seem to be deep in their own thoughts, lost. Every thing they will have to do has to be well planned, though everyone seem to notice that anything still will be risky. They are walking on the edge. You can’t hide the fact you are angry with yourself that you could bring them to their possible downfall. Everything they did to make vampires live at the edge of society, unknown to normal people could be turned.

The blonde at the end of the table chew on to his lip, before his teeth nip dangerously too deep at it as something comes over him. He wants to laugh at his own idea — maybe thinking too deeply about this situation is not the key. Less is more. Even with your decisions, you sometimes have to take the obvious option. His brothers could make out the sudden shift in him, as they all lived together for so long, they are basically one.

“Why should we hide her?” He says, gaining all of their attention. “We should celebrate…perhaps a ball.”

The faces gained are obvious disbelief and confusion with his request, but they don’t immediately disagree. However you probably out of all of them seem to be the most against it, as it is maybe too risky and little provocative. “A ball?” Repeats the other blond vampire, testing the word on his tongue.

The other shrugged, the uncertainty in his tone obvious to him, because he also isn’t so sure with his own idea, but he still will stand by it. “Isn’t there supposed to be a celebration ball after a vampire finds his soulmate?” Celebration like these weren’t so unknown amongst vampires, it is almost like a tradition. Though as finding a soulmate is so difficult, near impossible, there wasn’t a ball like this in a very long time. Considering that one of the oldest, most powerful vampire did find himself amongst a human, it would really pick up the interest.

The vampire, on the left of the leader frowns. “Yes, but wouldn’t that be provoking?”

Minho humms in thought. “Maybe.” He says, starting to see what his younger brother meant by this idea. “But it sure would pick up their interest and give us some leverage.”

Your eyes follow them, each word however making your confusion bigger. The pull at your eyebrows is noticed by Hyunjin who answers those racing thoughts in your head. “Every time a vampire finds their soulmate there is celebration.” The word, the status of your relationship rolls out of his lips with a different tone that you do pick up as also his ocean blue eyes gave away how much this simple word means to him. “Before they take their vows for an eternal life together.”

He says the words slowly, each syllable piercing through you like it was some kind of a spell. He before saying that felt unsure, perhaps even shy voicing them out to you. Your breath hitched, eyes widening while still looking into his. He knew about this, but didn’t tell you. Maybe because to not make you uncomfortable, seeing as you till a day ago let him in just a little. You just started to become vulnerable, deciding for yourself if you even want to have something with him.

You don’t want to say you are now forced to be by his side, you don’t want to say that these walls around you are slowly cracking…However the thought of marriage, vows that are maybe totally different from the normal ones meant everything. It would mean that you will be forever his…

Your lips parted, a small noise coming out of you, you are simply speechless. Hyunjin watch the small reaction, taking it as maybe not so good one. He can’t judge you. He is immortal, he lived multiple lives, but you are still on your first one. And maybe even your last…No, he won’t let anything happen to you. Just the memory of your tear stained face, your scream of terror ripping out of your chest makes him sick. If you do not want him, he will understand, even if it hurts to see you so against it.

You never knew that they would be even the possibility of you getting married. Meeting someone who would love you till death will do you apart. But you did meet someone, he was death. Walking in the shadows, living and thriving at night, while you roamed through the day, surviving. Could you really marry him? Let him be the one to possible lead you to your death and then never see the light again. Would you let him turn you after a while? Would you truly love him even after he would turn you?

You drown in your thoughts again, falling silent, joining the others who also didn’t have anything else to say. They felt like this should be discussed in a private matter, maybe even romantic, but all of them knew there isn’t much time. The others feel bad for you two that you didn’t even have the time — time to get to know each other, fall for one and other. They don’t want to say that there is not hope for you to see the truth and for Hyunjin to expect your possible loss. Every vampire in the room knew about how important the thing that happened to you was, they do not wish for your death, but they also can’t let themselves fall.

“As said we’re quite old fashioned.” Cuts the tension the man next to Minho, laughter way to sharp and inappropriate, so it only dies down hallway at the reactions sent his way. Minho pinches him at that, making the other yelp dramatically, though it does ease the tension in some way.

Your vision set on the palms of your hands is dimmed as Hyunjin steps before you, blocking the light of the fire. “Y/N…” He calls out to you and to your own shock you do look at him with sorrow expression. He looks stressed, chest rising with heavy breaths that you knew he doesn’t have to take, eyes wide, trailing all over you. “It doesn’t mean that we would be married, just because of this situation — I don’t want you to think that I’m only using you–“

The urgency in his voice to and justify himself is heard and you do believe him, it is just…absolutely crazy. “No…I understand.” You mumble, gaze falling back to your hands, because you couldn’t watch his face fall even more.

There is some truth to your words, you really did understand and you were so eager to help just minutes ago, but this? Is this really the solution to this problem? It seemed risky, plan incomplete. They will put themselves into spotlight, showing off and provoking their enemy who could also possibly be at the event. The original vampires, if they would attend, will determined if you should live or not and if you somehow do, it still wouldn’t mean they would protect you. Well, if the enemy won’t get to them first.

“It is done then…” Chan says, his voice echoing around the room, making you look past the vampire before you to him. “There will be a ball as soon as possible, so it won’t seem like we’re hiding this information — your presence from the higher.” He ends his speech, not missing the small mumble from the raven haired vampire, still gripping your chair which you sit on.

“Something tells me that they already know.”

────

What happened after that became a blur, you could see from the corner of your eye how all of them stood up, walking their separate ways. Some stop to watch the fireplaces, some went to pour themselves drink and others just left. Hyunjin was one of them. You didn’t miss the way he look at you. So empathic for you, but he himself couldn’t help, but feel sad. You watched him stand up to his full height, how he pulled his long black hair back behind his ears, how he didn’t spare you another glance.

He always gave you a moment of peace to think and you hold yourself tightly to the chair, so you would do the same for him. You realize how difficult it actually is to hold yourself back. You want to tell him the truth. That you don’t in someway feel oppressed from the idea of you being his, but you just couldn’t…because you can’t accept it yourself. You can’t let these sudden emotions change everything that happened so far. However you do not want to overthink again, because you do it all the time. You want to talk to him.

You stand up, stumbling momentarily as your feet felt like jelly, while looking around the room. From the still two unknown men standing next to the fireplace gazing into it, to Chan drinking with the man that you for a split second met at the club. They stood next to a small stool, on it few glasses holding different colored liquids, but the one in the leader’s hand you could recognize as whisky. The crystal clear glass twinkles, inviting you. You decided to at least talk a few words with him, let him see that you are more than just a scared little girl, but you just know that these creatures always knew more about the person than the person themselves.

You pick up the front of your dress, making your way around the table to the two men drinking. You are sure that they are all waiting for your next move, counting your each step, listening closely to your heart — even if none of them still didn’t look at you, it felt like you are being analyzed. The aura they all radiate is unbearable, yet alluring — like a poison. You wonder if it comes with the gift of eternal life or if it just comes from the heart.

As you stop in front of Chan, he pours himself another glass, head still turned away from you. However the one next to him doesn’t look away, big doe eyes glaring into your soul and you are having a really hard time to look away from such intense gaze. The older fills his drink hallway, cocking his head into your direction, looking at you like he didn’t already feel your presence. “You want some?”

You stumble for a second over your answer, the amber color does look delicious, but you really don’t have the appetite and also it wasn’t your drink of choice. “No, thank you.” You say simply, watching him pull the glass to his plump lips, swallowing it all in one go. You are not sure if you should be impressed as vampires don’t probably feel a thing, only the subtle burn at the back of their throat as you learned in the past. Finishing his drink, he sets the glass back down on the table and then again looking at you.

From your past encounters, you weren’t so close to each other, so you are more obviously taken back by the vibrant color of his eyes. They looked dark from far away, but up close they look like dripping honey, like the liquor inside his glass. By the look of his, you realize that he is giving you a silent question mark, like he just knew you wanted to say something. You blink rapidly, waking yourself up, hair at the back of your head standing up at his gaze, but mostly at the vampire’s next to him. “I just…I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say exactly, but thank you, it is–“ You shutter over your words, eye screwing shut in small embarrassment. “I know the risks you are taking for me. You don’t even know how much this means to me…” You laugh shortly, feeling your cheeks burning when from the corner of your eyes, you see the other two vampires at the fireplace turn to your direction. “All of you are family and I am so sorry that when I came into the picture — I just ruined everything…I don’t want anything to happen to you, all of you. I kind of wish that Hyunjin never met me-“

“No.” Chan says, stopping you for continuing, making you jump at his voice. He sounded angry and when you look up at him in shock, you see it with your own eyes. “You really don’t know what this means to a vampire — to a person to find their soulmate do you?” He stays quiet for a split second, you only shaking your head softly. “When we become death, everything is more vibrant, clear, with our powers we also see the truth. There is nothing left for us to do. We are only lost souls roaming the earth, taking other’s energy and life to somehow fulfill our own.”

You see something in his eyes, something hidden, but you do not dare to even move at his sharp words, eyes falling onto the man next to him. “Soulmates exist. Humans can’t have soulmates as they do not feel the connection, they do not cross death and come back, they don’t have the ability to see beyond. As a vampire you see a new light, you can feel it, see it.”

“It was a bond known between two undeath people, but never a human and a vampire. The fact you can feel it too, even if everyone can tell you are trying to hide…it is extraordinary.” Explains to you further the blonde, scaring you as he stood right behind you. Turning to him, you glance briefly to the last man next to him who watch you closely like everyone else in the room. “You and Hyunjin are the perfect balance. Maybe your fate is already being written, maybe you are meant to become like us…but what if not? This bond maybe is so strong that it can defeat death itself.”

“Do you now see how important you are? You are not just a normal human to us and everyone will see that. We won’t let anything happen to you.” Chan says to you. You can’t help the warm feeling spreading inside of your chest. “You do not have to apologize or be greatful. You are family now.”

You feel tears forming in your eyes. How can you not be grateful? They are all so kind to you, you have never felt so appreciated and seen. Your mouth opens, but you can’t find the right words. He said not to thank them or apologize, maybe because these words were so little and not meaningful for creatures like them. You think that even if you kept saying these words, it wouldn’t be enough. You believe them, but you do not know if you believe with their statement. Nothing about you is extraordinary…however you can see this thing between you two. You thought the same as him, maybe you are just too good at hiding your feelings that you become blind yourself, but the fact is that you somehow you can’t be compelled by him. You don’t know why, but both of you know that this meant that you two are meant to be together, he can’t make you feel things for him because — you somehow already do…At the night on the bridge you could feel it so greatly, but now you are only trying to make these things go away — what if this would only end up in another heartbreak?

You flash the man before you a small smile, knowing that if you would even dared to say one of those forbidden words, he wouldn’t let you go till you learn otherwise. “Where do you think I could find him?” You want to shake your head at your own idea, sheepishly fidgeting under their gazes. You think you do need to see him, you think he needs you. He let you take the first steps, simply because to not overwhelm you, but you are slowly becoming unsure of these feeling you are so desperately trying to hide. You need to see for yourself if you are really being honest with yourself…but also you want to see him. You can’t let him just walk away from you anymore.

The blonde comes into your line of vision, a teasing smile spreading across his face. His eyes twinkle almost teasingly at your question, but not so surprised by it. “His workroom propably, he’s there all the time — go down the stairs, turn left, it’s the door with a painted flower on it.”

You take all of the information to your heart, silently repeating the words to yourself, because you just know you would forget otherwise. You give a nod in return, stopping yourself before you could even mutter a thank you, but you do catch the small smile of amusement on Chan’s lips. You leave silently at that, head turning to give them a last small look, because you just couldn’t resist. They really could mesmerize you by their own presence alone.

Your footsteps didn’t feel heavy as the other times you walk your way through the house, but you can’t help yourself from going back to the conversation. Learning about your importance, seeing that your existence could harm your closest. You trust Hyunjin and the others with keeping their word that they will protect them, because they all know how even not blood related family can be the most important thing in the word.

You need to talk to Mia. You need to hear her voice. You know that you can’t say anything to her, but you need to make sure everything is alright and that they she just didn’t disappear. You do not have much friends, but the ones you have were always in your life, you didn’t even realize it till now. You are so used to their presence that being without them is like losing a part of yourself. However the last part already became known…

If it comes to the question yes or no, you don’t want to say the first option only because you had to. You want to get to know him, he’s not seducing you, he’s actually just being himself. Maybe this magic pull he held is just the bond. Though even if you could feel it yourself, the need to think of him every moment when he’s not with you, needing him to look at you when he is — you really need to know if this isn’t just some kind of a trick. Is he smitten with you only because of the bond or is a truly you?

Your head starts to throb, so many thoughts at once that you didn’t even realize you already walking down the stairs. The whole house in some way feels so empty, unknown, because they were so many different wings, rooms and stairs leading to somewhere you do not known. You only been down here, when you ran out of the main door which you walk past right now or the other time when you actually took your first walk outside. Now you don’t even want to think about going outside, even if the gardens look absolutely breathtaking.

With the curtains closed, you only see a small streaks of orange light coming from the sides, letting you take a peak at the setting sun. You are starting to feel like one of them, because the day would go so fast for you, the night really is the more lively one by of the bunch. You don’t stumble over your feet, because of the few candles lit around the house. You wonder if they just don’t like electricity or are just really old fashioned, but you do appreciate their old spirit.

You are thankful that they didn’t do anything to this magical place. You could just tell by a single look that it was just kept in touch, loved. You really are surprised that you didn’t know of this place before this, you are sure it would be very popular in some sense, but also this meant that you must be somewhere completely cut off from any civilization.

The door wasn’t really hard to miss. The description gave to you was spot on, but it lack the depth. You have never seen such a beautiful painted door before. It was a red rose, petals springing out while the thorns and leaves went up to the edges of the door. The details, outlines made of gold and when you came closer to inspect it more, you realize that the whole piece was molded. You couldn’t help but trace your finger over it, marveling at the colors that in some places were faded, maybe from the age.

You smile softly at the soft detail of the handle — a smaller rose at the end of the handle which look like a few tangled stems. At the sight you however don’t let yourself in or maybe again eavesdrop again, because you know better than that, so you raise your hand, knocking carefully on the door. Few pieces looked particularly sharp and you don’t want to risk cutting yourself in a house full of vampires and also you are scared to even touch it more than that because you don’t want to destroy it by your clumsiness.

You hear noises on the other side of the door, loud footsteps, stopping before it. You gasp out as the door swings open so wildly that it knocked the air out of your lips, hair falling into your eyes. However you could still see Hyunjin’s face controlling into a small shock at your appearance, like he couldn’t just feel you through the wood.

“Y/N?” Is he really that surprised to see you? “Do you need anything?” With his next words he closes the door a little, not letting you have even a glance inside. He frowns down at you, thinking that something must have happened and it kind of did, but it was way more simple than he expects. He doesn’t see your bashful expression, his concern blinding him. “If there’s anything you need, just ask one one of the servants, I can’t right now-“

“Oh…” The noise stops him from continuing, watching the way your fingers bunched up the fabric of your dress. He still can’t believe how beautiful you look…”I came here to…talk.” You swallow the last word, but he could still hear it.

“Talk?” He repeats, tasting the word on his tongue with a concentrated face.

You want the ground to swallow you whole, because how difficult is it to talk? Nervously you fidget even more as he straightened his back, standing up to his full height. The way he towered over you is too much for you to handle, because he looked too good looking down at you. “Yes, I wanted some company, but if you don’t have the time—“

Hyunjin hides his shock behind his long hair. Is he even worthy of your company? You probably don’t even know how much your words warmed him. His cold heart jump at your honesty as yours pumps so fast, because you were actually nervous. He thought that maybe after that you would go back to your isolation. Talk to him only if necessary. Because the conversation held back in the room felt like something you wouldn’t like to talk about anymore and maybe you don’t…you really want to talk to him…

He is taken back by your words, mind swirling, eyes going back and forth at your expressive gestures, because you are simply becoming even more embarrassed. For once you did the first move and he just told you he didn’t have time for you, but how wrong you were about….

He stops you with his hand, mouth hanging open as he shakes his head at your expression. “I would really appreciate your company.” He says, a small smirk on his lush lips. You feel your tense shoulders relaxing at his answer, watching closely as he moves out of the way, opening the door wider. “Please, come in.” His hand is still holding the heavy door for you, even as you take a step in, the top of your head catching his outstretched arm. You hold your breath as you pass him so closely, you just know he did that with an intention.

The room is a little bigger than you expected, because a work room simply isn’t supposed to be so big. Though you quickly realize why it is like that, separated into sections it. Everything, everywhere — on the walls, on stands, on the multiple tables were paintings and drawings. You wish for more light to see fully on the canvases, because you become simply speechless at the sight alone. You walk around, finding different angles, even more art to look at.

You stop before one of the tables. On it there were scattered many drawings. Flowers, animals or just a small details of a person’s face. You can’t help yourself from going through them, hands just grazing softly over them, to not destroy them. You were simply in awe at each one of them. Every single one of them had their own character, they were all so beautiful…But then as you moved out of the way more papers, you came across a one that immediately spoke to you.

It was a drawing of the Moon, light scratches on the paper indicating its light that mirrored on a river. On the left edge of the paper is a bridge, still unfinished and on it you could make out a small figure. You quickly realize who it was — you. He drew you at the night you two met…he drew the moment you kept repeating inside your head. You reminisce the peacefulness yet tension there was when your eyes met for the first time. How it felt to be seen for the first time.

A smile spread over your lips, simply because you found it quite endearing. “I presume you drew these.” You say, turning around, only finding him leaning closely to you on his main desk. However you do not know that he didn’t look away from you since the moment you step inside this room. He listened how your heartbeat slowed down to a pleasant thumping.

Hyunjin if he could, would blush under your praise, but even in his small bashfulness, he can’t look away from your beautiful smile. “Yes.” He answers, proudness prominent in his voice as he also looks around the room with you.

“They are all beautiful.” You breathe out, taking it in. Every painting in the house, in the corridor you passed through is probably his, you find it absolutely amazing. “You are very talented.” You do not know where the confidence in your voice came from, but you don’t even think twice about it, simply too distracted at the moment.

The vampire is also stunned by the sudden compliments send his way, a fizzy feeling warming up his insides. Your presence and that you choose to be with him meant so much, you can’t even imagine. Lights of the few candles he lightened up, made your dress shine, skin looking so soft to touch. He wish to paint you like this — he wishes to paint you at any given moment. You are just too mesmerizing to not be painted. His eyes travel to your bare neck, listening to your pulse that jumps dangerously too loudly to his ears at the moment. He looks away from your neck, like the sight of it burned him, throat dry, thirsty. Those thoughts were forgotten for a moments when he hears you shuffling through paper, hand just grazing at a one particular drawing.

Your fingers brush against it, seeing just a glimpse of someone’s strained neck, before it is grabbed from you. You gasp at Hyunjin’s sudden appearance, his moves so quick and shift that you are left slightly spooked. His speed made some of the drawings on the table fly away, but he payed no mind to them as the drawing you were looking at is pushed tightly to his chest. “Thank you for your compliments, painting has always been a passion of mine…” He says, smiling sheepishly, a short laugh following from his lips. You just nod your head at his weird behavior, watching him lean over the table to your side, opening a book to just put the drawing inside of it. He snaps the book shut, looking up at you as he slowly straightens his back.

Shiver runs down your spine, tickling the back of your neck as your wide eyes stare up into his. He was so close, so so close. If you would even take a breath in, your chest would graze over his. Your eyes fall onto his neck, watching his Adam’s apple jump, because if you would tilt your chin up, his chin would touch your head. His hand still lingering on the closed book, made its way back through his drawings to his side, but you could see it from the corner of your eye stopping next to yours. You can’t believe you are so taken back just from this. You already touch each other like this, but it still was only, because under a certain situation. Never just to feel each other…He could sense the air around you shifting, how your shoulders tense up, he by that figured you are becoming uncomfortable, so he steps away from you. He had to so say that these tensions between you two are slowly killing inside.

He clasps his hands behind his back, walking back to his main desk, turning to you, now a decent distance between you two. “I see you are learning to enjoy my gifts.” Hyunjin remarks, eyes traveling down the length of your body. Your response is small laugh, because you are still finding your ground, back leaning on the table. You stay away from him to not go absolutely insane, but his next words almost make you. “You look beautiful.”

Such simple words, but to you they meant a lot. You did struggle with your self image, because you always thought that the way you look was the leading cause of your loneliness. So that word made you simply speechless, because he is the literal definition of it. The way he voiced out those words…made you for once really feel like it. “Thank you…it is a beautiful dress.” You say, looking down at your body. The pink and yellow fabric shifts with any small movement of yours, looking back at him, only for your eyes to fall onto his desk.

A silent gasp leaves you at the sight of your favorite flowers. You love any flower, because they all have their own uniqueness, but a traditional rose held your heart. He follows your gaze immediately, noting the way your eyes light up at the sight of the bouquet. “You like roses?” It came out more as a statement, because it was his favorite flower also.

You nod, smiling at how his features softened. “I love roses, but I must say, I prefer white over red.” A different kind of smile is send your way, his fingers taping at the table, like deep in thought by this almost useless information.

You just realize how quiet it is, it almost felt awkward between you two with all these stops before moving on with the conversation, but you prefer it this way. You finally had time to think, before answering, but you know yourself too well — it won’t stop you from saying whatever. You stay at your spot, both hands balancing your body while you watch him walk to an another, smaller table.

His back turns to you, preventing you to fully see what he is doing, but then you get a glimpse of a bottle, the glass winking at you. The context still unknown to you, till he pours it into his glass. The thick liquid, could be recognized even from far away, but you still ask just to be sure. “Is that blood?” The word rolls out of your tongue in displeasure and he just gives you a small look. His fingers played around the rim of his glass, rolling the liquid around like it was just a glass of wine. You didn’t need any conformation from him as he tips the glass to his lips. “Did you…?” You wonder, watching him take another, longer sip.

He knows what you are asking and he immediately shakes his head. Hyunjin could feel your small expression of what seemed like betrayal and disgust. He himself feels disgusted by the idea of betraying you and not keeping his promise, it hurts him a little that you would even think that. “No, I haven’t touched anyone…if that’s what you are asking.” Smacking his lips, his tongue licks at a small drop rolling down the corner of his mouth. He sees the immediate relief, how your grip on the table loosens. He then let his eyes linger on your neck again. So pretty, unmarked, you really shouldn’t tease him like that with your soft looking skin. “—if you are not offering yourself…”

Heat raises to your cheeks and you just know that he could see the blood traveling to your face under your skin. His comment wasn’t meant to be said like that, it should’ve been a small joke perhaps. Though when he said those words himself, he couldn’t fight his sultry tone. Your hand momentarily raised to your neck, his eyes following the movement. You don’t know if you should be even breathing as every move of yours made him so hopeful. You know about his desire to drink from you, maybe it is only his nature, but you could tell it meant something more. Your hand falls to your side again, deciding to let his comment be forgotten, but it still lingers a little as you try to distract yourself with looking at a painting behind his head.

The colors on it are dark, way too dark to make out the scenery. With only the few lit candles in the room, you could however make out a small house, a cottage, its windows painted dimmed orange color. In the background is something you couldn’t quite make out, but it did help your heart to stop beating so fast. Though you think again about yesterday when from the corner of your eye, you see him finish his glass. The woman who he drank off…

“I saw human and even vampire servants…” You say, instead of just saying what you wanted to say, but this small statement of yours still needed to be explained.

A smirk falls over his face, too quick for you to catch, the darkness also not being really helpful to you. You just hope that he couldn’t feel the jealousy radiating from you as you thought of the woman who he had bitten. “We only hired humans to look after you when we cannot…feeding from them is quite optional.” No, he did know your intentions, he knows why you asked him that. Embarrassment is understandable from your side, but he didn’t see it as he realized that even with more people in the house, he couldn’t protect you.

“So you compel them to stay and feed from them?” You mumble, again asking a very obvious question. He only gives you a small nod in return, but you only start to feel more bad for them. They just manipulate normal people for their pleasure. They stole someone’s freedom…”So you really keep innocent people here under your spell, feeding from them till they one day bore you?” Your words almost spit out of you.

He almost feels like a child caught doing something, he shouldn’t. You are right in one way, but you still don’t know that the humans here really don’t mind being here. They feed from them, yes, but they still have some heart to provide them with anything they want. They are not as cold hearted as you think, you should be thankful that you are not a possession of some other vampire clan. “They let us themselves, trust me the blood tastes better when the person is not opposed to it. They give us their blood and help and we give them anything they want in return…besides it’s not that often. We enjoy more going out — playing with our food.”

You frown at that not quite getting what he is saying, but the small amused raise of his eyebrow isn’t missed. “How so?” You ask, after learning that these people here are safe, not really held captive if you can even say that, makes you feel at ease.

Hyunjin can’t fight the small amusement, because you always don’t see the obvious, however you really do have a particular eye for details. He looks up at you through his eyelashes, the darkness making his eyes shine like eyes of a predator which he is. “Someone likes the chase, the thrill of seeing someone scared and completely hopeless, but more so it’s the immense pleasure of seducing someone.”

Your lips form into thin line, mainly because that the thought of him doing that to someone is making your skin crawl — you don’t want to admit it however. His voice was laced with honey, but you quickly learn that this is the way he speaks. Does he speak to his victims like this? Lurning them into his arms? If you would look at it from far away, it made you sick that vampires just use human for their pleasure only, they find thrill in their weakness. “And then what? Kill them?” The frown on your face deepened, looking at him.

He cocks his head slightly, like thinking, but both of you knew that he already had an answer ready for you. Hyunjin could see right through you, knowing exactly what you are going to ask by just a look into your eyes. “Sometimes yes…” He says in honesty. “But we prefer not to — I look at humans as equals as much as it is amusing with our nature. I was a human once too, I just simply take what I need and then make them forget.”

Forget…simple word, but you did not do that when he asked you to. After his statement you feel yourself relaxing slightly. Maybe you are looking too much into things way too quickly. You judged too hard, only being proven otherwise by him after. You have to stop seeing him like the creature that he is and see him as a person who once had dreams, like you. He was once just like you, he knows how he would react in your position — maybe he would be even more dramatic, overreacting and overthinking more than you do.

When you met him, you found yourself in a completely different world. The world of supernatural beings that you only saw on a screen. You did wonder if vampires were the only ones, because when you learn something new, you always need to know more. “Are there any other supernatural beings?” You wondered out loud. There is so much you want to ask that you forget about this most important one of them all.

“Yes.” Your breath comes out jagged, small excitement rising in your chest as well as fear. “They are werewolves and witches who created us.” You can’t believe that humans do not know of their existence other than you now, were humans this ignorant?

Your eyebrows knitted together at the last sentence and in curiosity you had to take a small step closer to him. “Why?”

He knew that you would ask, but it is important that you know. It would help him get closer to you, get you to trust him. He doesn’t see it as him being manipulative to get you close enough for him to finally feel a part of you, but he can’t help, but feel needy to answer as you did come closer to him. Though it hurts a little for him to go back to his past. “There are many types of witches, good and evil, they all take their power from the Earth.” He sighs a little, head hanging low, eyes full of emotions. “Mother Nature turned their back on them when half of their clan was murdered by werewolves. They seeked revenge so they created us, making us and werewolves the perfect rivals for each other.”

You are in disbelief that this is how vampires were created, but it somehow made a prefect sense. They were created from revenge. “Werewolves existed before you?” You asked him, walking closer to him, away from the table till only the tips of your fingers touched the wood.

The small excitement is obvious to him, even if you try to hide it. His future was painful, talking about it is painful, but as he told you more, he felt better somehow. You made him realize that is not so important as the present — future with you. “Yes…there’s actually one in this house right now, but he prefers not to speak of it.” Hyunjin whispers to you as you lean ever so slightly closer to him, him looking up to the ceiling like he could just tell that the person is listening to the conversation.

You don’t hide your shock at that. A vampire and a werewolf? Your childish excitement is interrupted by a sudden feeling of fear of the unknown. It felt like the first time he told you about their own species, your head started to hurt a little from this much information. “Who?” You ask him, the word also coming out as a whisper. It was so silly to even try to be quiet, but he found it cute when you imitated his tone of voice.

“Chan.” Your eyebrows jump for a second to your hair line, not even realizing you were standing right at the edge of the table, just a few steps away from him. “He was a werewolf before he was turned. He was the first one to be turned by the originals, so that’s why he became our leader.” The one word came out from his mouth with a weird undertone, but you don’t comment on it. “Werewolves are going extinct and so are witches, because of our hunger for blood and power.”

You gave him a look of understanding, but you know that he still was holding back, not telling you the whole truth. Your mind goes back to the man upstairs, the one who held the most authority and confidence in his steps. He seemed to be the type to somehow not be moved by anything, but hearing this about him, makes you realize that he is more than just their leader. “So he is a hybrid?”

It was a silly question perhaps, watching him immediately shake his head. “No, his werewolf side died that day with him.” You suddenly feel bad for him, it must have been so painful for him, either of them, but turning into your own sworn enemy must be painful to even imagine. “However being an Alfa made some of his followers still believe he was, even after turning, not their enemy.” You nodded, him seeing the small downside turn of your pink lips.

It was quiet for a moment after that. You are thankful a little, because you needed to sort out your thoughts. Some things were still unanswered. Though the main thing that kept your mind occupied were the first ever vampires, the ones who turned them. You don’t want to ask if they all knew each other, but something told you that they did. Your heart burns at the fact he was killed by someone close to him, turning into the creature of the night. You can see how much it hurts him to reminisce his last moments as a human. It must have been so scary for him…

Your fingers played on the table, body swaying back and forth as you change your weight on your feet. You then make your way closer, justifying yourself that it was only because you wanted to take a closer look at his drawings. Hyunjin held is breath as you passed by him, simply to not intake your scent. He watches your fingers nibble carefully on the paper, caressing it so softly he wishes it would be his skin instead. A candle on the table illuminates your most prominent features, loose hair from your up-do falling into your eyes. He can’t believe he is doing that — his eyes fall quickly to the empty glass next to him, swallowing the saliva forming in his mouth, though throat even drier than before.

“How many are there?” You ask him from the other side of the table, at his silence looking up at him. Only your look makes him snap back into reality, gazing at you with half lidded eyes, but you ignore his weird behavior. “The originals…” You continue.

“Seven.” He says, blinking at your pursed lips, like in thought, already answering you further before you could even form the next question. “Seven of us were turned by the originals…”

“But who is-“ He hates that you are really asking him that. He should’ve known better, your curiosity is immense.

Hyunjin is not the one to make your question die down hallway, your voice became little, because as you gaze at him, it became clear to you. “Felix…. I turned him.” The silence between you is heavy as you watch him slowly lose the mask of strength. Your heart burns for him, because you feel for him. He lets you see him vulnerable and part of you is feeling bad that you had to remind him of the darkest parts of his past. “I-I couldn’t control my hunger and almost killed him…I couldn’t bare the thought of him being gone, so I gave him another life…I was so selfish—“

His breath is heavy, fighting back the tears at the memory when he almost lost his dear friend, only to make his fate even worse than death. He knew it was selfish of him, he felt like one of them, because they showed him what it is at need to become a vampire. His blond friend forgive him way too quickly, he didn’t hate him for a split second for what he did. He should’ve. Hyunjin is reminded with what he did by every look at him, he could never forget how his friend’s droopy eyes looked into his. How they lose light while he slowly realized what he had done. He couldn’t let the person he loved die by his hand, so he gave him another life instead…He couldn’t watch the way your beautiful eyes dimmed from his state, you should not feel like this. He doesn’t deserve your tears.

You haven’t seen him show emotions that much, but when he did, it was overwhelming. Every emotion he let out strikes you in the chest and now you can’t, but feel sorrow, sad from the way he seems to be hating himself for a thing like this. He was scared, confused, he is not responsible for doing those bad things, but you do understand him. You can’t even breathe from the thought of something like this happening to Mia and You, but the way out of it is not beating yourself like this. You didn’t know what came over you, it was way too bold. You should’ve known better and let him calm himself down, but how could you keep yourself from him when he looks like this?

You made your way around the table, hand falling onto his shoulder in comfort. He jumps at your touch, eyes wide, shocked by your presence. He is not alone…”I am so sorry” You say, your apology also meant for your bold move. You didn’t know what else to say to him, because that is truly how you felt about him. Your hand falls from his shoulder while he looks at you with a completely different look in his eyes that made you want to back away. You translated it as a plead for you to step back, but as you do that, his hands grip your upper arms. Your lips parted into a silent gasp at the painful grip, eyes wide in small shock when you are turned around to be only pressed into the table.

Your breath becomes heavy, matching his as you try to wiggle out of his painful grip, but he doesn’t even want to look at you. His head hung low, your back digging into the table in the hopes of taking a deeper breath, more than just a few shallow gasps. He pressed himself into you and the way he breathed so deeply, makes you scared of what he might do. You shouldn’t have touched him, you think you angered him by taking a side with his blond friend, but you still stand by the fact he shouldn’t feel responsible for what he did.

The silence could eat you alive, your gasps of air and his heavy breaths were the only thing filling up the room. You could feel his chest rise, his dark blue shirt rubbing at your skin, the tips of his fingers dangerously digging into your exposed skin. You ignore the pain, scared to even look away from him. You don’t however feel as scared as you should be, you quickly learn. You are scared, only because you don’t know what made him like this. You wiggle a little in his grasp, thighs bumping into each other and by your restraint, you hit the painful spot on your leg. A small hiss leaves you and you almost jump when he finally looks at you.

Your wide eyes meet his. You think you will never get enough of the color and the red outline of his iris. Your noise of pain made his grip loosen around your arms and you could feel your skin bruising under his fingers. You watch his face as it falls into a frown, looking at you in small concern. “Does it hurt?”

You do not know what to say, because you think he is not really referring to his painful grip on your body. “What?” Comes out of your mouth, because his expression is making you confused. You hold your breath, sighing through your nose in relief when his left hand releases you, but you only become more frozen from what he does next. His left hand travels down the length of your arm, before stopping at your skirt and you are left speechless when he starts to lift up the fabric.

You stood there in shock, heart jumping maybe not so much from fear anymore as he bunched up your skirt, just to stop at your waist. It draped over you enough to not reveal anything too scandalous, but you do want to instinctively run from him. Just barely his fingers touch you and you are already feeling like you are on the edge, before you would simply crumble at his feet. You close your eyes, not being able to handle his eyes on your skin that no one has ever seen, but when you feel his fingers on the same spot your eyes fly open.

As you look down, you realize what he meant. His long fingers graze over the bruise on the inside of your thigh. His touch makes you feel hot, head fuzzy, but he didn’t mirror your expression. Hyunjin felt sick to his stomach at the purple color of your skin, where his hand gripped you in anger. Even if he didn’t linger his hand there for too long, it was long enough for it to bruise. “Does it hurt?” He asks you again.

His cold skin tickles you, watching his fingers dance across the sensitive skin. “A little…” You whisper the truth. He doesn’t show his reaction nor he says anything to your answer, the hand gripping your skirt, keeping it up, makes the material of his trousers brush over you. You don’t really understand his reaction. Yes, he did hurt you, but you do forgive him, because they are way more important things than something like this. You know that he didn’t mean it that is important. Now you just have to keep his mind out of it, because you can’t let him feel bad anymore. “Do you have any idea why I cannot be compelled by you?” You question him, trying to ease the tension.

He answers you, though not clearly, like he just didn’t simply want to be rude. It is a good question you are asking, but it is a little too much for him to think about as there is only a one thing on his mind right now. “Maybe…it is because you…” He speaks up, before looking up at you with desperation. “What are you doing to me?”

Air gets stuck in your throat at the look he gives you, feeling the tension around you suffocating you or was it just his body pressing into yours? “I don’t understand.” You rasp out, shaking your head, trying to look away from him, but his expression won’t let you.

“Just by your touch, only by a look, I become your slave…and your smell—“ You gasp, freezing when he leans his head closer to your neck, moving the loose hair away from it with a quick flick of his wrist. You couldn’t breath, short gasps ringing in the air as he leans closer to your pulse, nose ticking the soft skin. “I had to stop feeding from someone, because any time I would, I would only think of you instead—“

You gasp softly, you don’t even know if you are still frightened or something less — something more raw. You could feel each word, lips bumping into your skin. You feel adrenaline piled up inside your chest, heart beating so fast that you think you are going to pass out. The graze of his soft lips, the feel of your skin, he can’t help the animalistic growl realising from the depths of his chest. The noise makes you gasp again, almost whimper as it vibrates over your skin, awaking goosebumps all over your body. It was so erotic, you have never been in this situation before, only in your dreams, but this was real. You could feel him against you, taking in the smell of your sweat forming on your hair line and also what seem like an arousal. You did try to stop it, but this situation made you thirst for more, tummy rumbling in a well known feeling. You couldn’t help it, there was a beautiful man before you, simply breathing from your scent alone and you can’t hate yourself for enjoying it.

“Hyunjin.” You whisper, hands grabbing his shirt, scrunching the fabric on his chest. Your fingers touch his skin briefly, shaking, but deciding to scrunch up the silky material in your hands instead. To pull him closer or away? You don’t know.

At your move he pulls himself away from the crook of your shoulder and when he looks at you, you can’t help, but whimper at the state of him. You have only seen him like this from far away, too far from you to fully look at those veins around his crimson eyes. Your hand just had to graze over one, the one right under his eye. You could feel it, but you know there is actually nothing pumping the blood inside his body. You don’t feel scared, even after your eyes fell onto his fangs, sharp tips peaking out from his flushed lips.

Hyunjin watched you in awe as you don’t seem to be frightened by his appearance. He always thought this side of him was never appealing to look at, but you — you looked him like you have never seen something so beautiful as his true form. Your thumb caressed the skin under his eye, like scared you would hurt his delicate features. He hates himself for needing to pull away from you, but the sight of your pulse was becoming really hard for him. He already let you see him like this, now he could just lean in and take a bite…maybe you would even like it. However he felt this was already too much, more than enough for today, so he pulled away from you.

Your hand falls back to your side, his leaving sensation that felt little too delicious. You watch him turn away from you, making you realize your dress was still at your waist. You quickly pulled down your skirt, feeling your ears burning, trying to calm down from the whole situation. “Are you…are you alright?” You ask him, breathing still heavy as his, but when he looks back at you there is no sign of his true nature.

“Yes, I apologize for my behavior…” Hyunjin breathed out, hand running through his already messy hair.

You want to shake your head at yourself, because you only feel disappointment by his actions. He looked like nothing happened, you don’t know if he is only acting like this to safe you from the embarrassment which you are now feeling or just doesn’t want to talk about the fact that he just let you willingly see him like that. Though you have to address the big issue in this room. “You are hungry.” You stated and he looks at you like you just grew a second head — the answer is obvious.

That is the thing he doesn’t want to talk about. “Please don’t–“ He says, shaking his head. “Don’t want to even think about it…”

You sigh at his tone, the need for warm blood is shining in his eyes. “You can feed from someone. Yesterday I didn’t mean it like that and would definitely be against it, if I truly knew how difficult it would be for you…” He let’s you talk, staring at you as you take a small step closer to him. “So please feed, before either of us do something stupid.”

“But you are against it…in what way I must now.” He frowns, because he could tell even know, how you somehow despised the idea and also he always only thought of you, but it would really help him get back on his track.

“I just–“ You sigh again, nervously biting at your lip. “…biting someone in the neck isn’t it for you…”

“Arousing?” He finishes for you, raising his eyebrow. “No….not when it’s not you.”

You cough lightly, choking on your own spit. He still wears a straight face, even as your reaction was a little dramatic. Your head is starting to spin from him, because how he could he just do and say a thing like that? “S-so you will feed, yes?” You say hopefully, clasping your slightly shaking hands before you.

He sighs in small displeasure, because he knows that even if he will feed again, it won’t tame his hunger. “Yes, maybe I should now seeing that I already finished my last drop.” He says, eyes momentarily going back to the red stained glass.

He doesn’t want you to leave him right now, but he will take the risk to preserve both of yours sanities. You also don’t want to part ways so soon, but you have a lot of things that need to be sort out and those were mostly your emotions. Maybe, you are a little relieved as you leave him in his workroom, because you know that you will find each other again…

──────────────────────

taglist (still open);

@babrieeee @akaligogrrr @hyuninslutbbgirl @satosugu4l @rockyhedgehog @lovemeorleavemetonight @dandelions-143 @skzfelixlove @syedazarintasnim @rylea08 @ahluvisyou @oddracha @what-am-i-doing-here2503 @annairacheyenne @dabiscrustyfeet @blankdyean @chartrucewhore @shuporanporang @palindrome969

i tried to get anyone but for some of you it just doesn’t work for some reason, it keeps telling me that your block doesn’t exist, I honestly don’t know what I’m doing wrong, I’m sorry :(

[cross-crye]

𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖔𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖋𝖊𝖈𝖙

TW: some graphic descriptions of pain and just result of overblot violence?? idrk how else to phrase it

hurt/comfort

wc: 2.2k

first person pov; reader is yuu

vil schoenheit x reader; takes place after book 5

also on Ao3 -> read here

"To be loved is to be changed" is a saying I heard rather often back in my world, but hadn't quite grasped the meaning of until recently.

I mean, just how can some half baked gestures of affection and an possibly faked fondness truly change a person?

Or at least that's what I used to think.

And all I have to thank for changing my mind is him.

――――

Initially, I couldn't have imagined how life could become any worse. Just how can you top being transported to another universe with no hope of finding a way home? The crushing feeling of despair that comes with the prospects of having to come to terms with such a predicament outright suffocates any figment of positivity you could hope to grasp.

Then the overblots started.

And that was so much worse than anything I could have imagined. I never knew what it was like to choke on the same air you breathe just because the blot in your immediate vicinity was so thick, that it had even started building a layer inside your lungs due to the continued inhalation. I never knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of magic so unrestrained and powerful that I felt its impact on the bones inside my body, even before they were finished breaking. And all I can wish for is to forget those feelings.

I wish I can forget the fear and desperation that controlled my body during Riddle's overblot. I wish I could've done something to actually help. While I couldn't have possibly been expected to be able to deal with the situation, sometimes I still felt guilty about it. First time (and supposedly only) I’d witnessed an overblot and all I could think of was how bad I had felt for riddle. While at the time I didn't quite like him much and we certainly weren't friends, and I had no obligation towards him, I couldn't help but feel guilty. I was complaining at having been a victim of an overblot but couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of pain he’d been in when that thing took over his bodily autonomy. Did he choke on his own blot? Did his bones break and shift as the blot expanded and changed his body? Did he still remember what he did while in that form controlled and erased his will?

After Riddle’s overblot I started to go to Coach Vargas outside of classes in order to learn some basic self defence tehniques.

Then the spelldrive tournament came round. And I went through the worst experience of my life a second time.

I wish I can forget the way in which I lost touch with my senses during Leona's overblot. Despite being more prepared to deal with it that time around I remained virtually useless. I could barely see through the thick cloud of swirling sand. Even though I desperately wish I could forget, I still remember how I could feel the rough sand scratching at the back of my neck as I spoke, hoping to talk Leona down that ledge. Again I had found myself feeling bad for the house warden. I wouldn't say I pitied him, as any student at NRC would be too prideful to do anything but take offence to such a claim, but rather that I felt dismay in his place. I once again felt haunted by questions I shouldn't have been asking myself. How did Leona live with the guilt of almost ending Ruggie's life? Did he even feel such a thing?

After Leona's overblot I started to spend my weekends learning first aid.

Then my idiot friends got wrapped up in Octavinelle's ‘deal with the devil’ sort of crap. And dragged me down with them.

I wish I could forget how suffocation feels. But I cant. Sometimes I wake up feeling like those tentacles are still wrapping around me and squeezing around my neck until my airway closes. Sometimes I still feel as if all it takes is the tiniest of pressure and my bones will break. Seems it didn’t matter to the Great Seven just how desperate I was to forget, I couldn't shake the feeling of drowning in somebody else's blot. Unsurprisingly, I had begun to feel bad for Azul as well. I could empathise with him, which made it all the worse as I could, for once, truly tell just how little I'd help him. The questions followed once again. Seems like my own thoughts would damn me if they could. Seeing as how I ended up almost drowning in his blot; Did Azul breathe through it? Did he, in all three of his (alleged) hearts not hold a shred of guilt for what he'd done to me? And to so many another? Did he know how many potions I had taken to fix my crushed rib cage? And if he did, why did he refuse to address it and pretend as if nothing happened?

After Azul's overblot, I found myself visiting the Octavinelle pool every so often, practising both my swimming and holding my breath. (The offer to access the pool undisturbed was an indirect bribe from Azul to buy my silence about the picture)

Then the winter break rolled around and I had thought I finally got a break. Only I was wrong.

I wish I could forget what it felt like to be stripped of my own free will. My stay in Scarabia was the most terrifying thing I had faced. Living where I had lived, I was terrified of loosing my freedom. It was the only thing money couldn't buy. So when I was controlled so easily and forced to act unlike myself and against my wishes I was stuck inside my own mind accompanied by a terror unlike anything I could've imagined. This was why Jamil was the one with whom I’d struggled the most to patch things up with and why he was the one it took the most time to be open to trust again. Despite all this I still felt bad for him. It was undoubted that life had dealt him a bad hand of cards that he sure wasn't going to win any poker games with. (Unless he's the smartest person at the table and fools everyone with a good bluff; But life isn't poker and the only way you win is by getting a good hand or cheating) I just had to wonder about him too. Did he feel any better when he overblotted? Did it finally grant him the freedom he craved? Could he remember the feeling of finally being the one to hold the power and call all the shots?

After Jamil's overblot I started to research magical artifacts. I worked diligently for months at Sam's shop to finally afford one that would prevent me from being controlled again.

Then the VDC was announced. My initial excitement was squashed like a bug by the fifth and hopefully final overblot.

For once I don't have anything I crave to erase from my memory. Its rather tragic if true, but after a certain ammount of overblots there are some things you just get used to. Which is why I might not outright wish for oblivion. The only question that remains is: Did I get used to the pain, or did I get used to the hopelessness of trying to forget it?

Upon further consideration, it might be that the reason as to why I didn't want to forget Vil's overblot was because of what it did to me. Unlike all my prior experiences, this overblot had actually resulted in a positive outcome albeit in an extremely roundabout way.

Throughout his time living at Ramshackle for VDC prep, Vil and I had formed an unlikely friendship. I would be delusional to claim that we were each other’s confidantes, but that didn't mean we had no concern for one another either. Vil had been a great help to me, and someone whose company I greatly enjoyed. I admired him beyond his looks, I found his drive, ambition and ideals to be inspiring. In the short time we'd gotten to know each other he'd quickly become a person I looked up to. And even if he wouldn't outright say it, I know he started to value my opinions.

In the beginning it was merely curiosity. I came from a different world after all. While at first his only interest in my views and beliefs was only fuelled by his own inquisitive desire my insight earned me his respect. He begun to show his appreciation for my contributions in the VDC prep his own way. What to others sounded like a judgemental comment, I knew was a nudge towards bettering myself. And that's how my now most valued relationship started.

What had really brought us together though, was, ironically enough, seeing each other at our most vulnerable.

――――

It was just another ordinary night. The VDC was still a week away and everybody was in high spirits. Except for me that is. It was supposed to be her birthday. My friend's. From back home. My real home, outside of twisted wonderland. Seeing the date in the calendar was only a grim reminder of the life I could never get back. I don't think I had ever missed home as much as I had in that night. The feeling of home sickness was too much to take. All I could do was pity myself and eventually resign to the hopelessness of it all.

Despite having held on to it for so long, my last remaining shred of hope had died that night. I foolishly thought that I could comfort myself, if even temporarily with a familiar sight. Rather than spend my restless night staring at the run down ceiling and slowly spiralling into an even more fragile mental state, I had decided to go outside on Ramshackle’s front porch and watch the stars. It had always used to calm me when I felt poorly back home.

Only when I went outside and really focused on the shining night sky, I couldn't recognise a single star.

It was that realisation that finally broke me. I was alone, and no matter what I’d do or how much I’d hope, home was something I wouldn’t have again. My reactions were outside of my control in that moment, and I felt my eyes start to water as I begun sobbing silently, all my desperation and depression manifesting itself unrestrained for the first time since I had come to Twisted Wonderland.

It was how Vil found me, tears streaming down my face and an overall wreck. He’d initially planned on scolding me for disregarding his rules, similarly to how he’d done with Ace, Deuce and Grim when they went for a midnight snack. Upon noticing the state I was in, that plan had been completely thrown out the window, as instead he’d talk to me and comfort me. Despite what others would think, his efforts were genuine, and while his words didn’t directly convey it, the fact that he’d been willing to stay outside with me a little longer (effectively sacrificing his own valuable time and strict sleeping schedule) before convincing me to return to my room to sleep and rest properly showed just as much.

I noticed that things had started to change after that night. He’d keep a slightly more attentive eye on me, taking an even more direct role in my well-being. While his newfound dedication was subtle, he set me on a path of pursuit of self-improvement.

In return, I had extended him the same curtsy. Following his overblot I’d offered to be a sort of shoulder to cry on. I had confessed to him to just what extent my admiration of him ran. And it ran deep. I’d told Vil how I thought his drive for improvement was inspirational, how his morals were commendable. I’d even followed it up with a sheepish joke about how it would probably serve me well to be at least a bit more like him.

Things started to work themselves out from there. Vil and I had begun to grow closer and spend more time together, eventually becoming romantically involved. Things had finally started to look up for me after all those months in this strange world. When I’d first come to NRC I had been haunted by those memories and feelings. I couldn't escape the doubt and the questions that always lingered in the back of my mind. But Vil had helped me with that. He’d helped me regain hope for my future, and while I still couldn’t find it in me to dream about returning home, I gave myself a chance to hope for a good, successful future free of torment. One where I could finally be truly happy again.

Many people didn’t understand this, but Vil wasn’t obsessed with people being beautiful, but rather with them being the best version of themselves. And despite it all, he was helping me do just that.

cross-crye © 2024.

no reposting, stealing, copying, translating my works or feeding them to AI

reblogs, comments and likes are all highly appreciated

[taexoxosgf]

😭😭😭

[peppermintquartz]

Continuation of this

Buck checks himself out for the tenth time in the mirror. He knows he looks good, but maybe he doesn't look right for trivia night? Dark jeans, his favorite boots, teal sweater... Maybe the sweater is the wrong top. Pulling it off and tossing it on top of the pile that's already on his bed, he grabs his phone and calls his sister.

"Maddie, tell me what to wear on a date to impress Tommy's friends." He pauses briefly. "Indoors, bar, trivia night."

It takes three agonizing seconds before Maddie answers. "The gray crew neck, paired with the rust-colored leather jacket or the brown suede, it brings out your complexion, and I want daisies as a thank you when you come by next."

"Thank you, I love you, say hi to Chim and Jee."

"Use protection!" Maddie gets one in just before Buck hangs up. He rolls his eyes at his phone but grins anyway as he tucks a condom into his back pocket. He might get lucky. He chooses the suede.

-

Tommy picks him up and kisses him sweetly, like they're about to go on a date instead of meeting Tommy's friends who are totally going to judge the hell out of Buck if he screws up Trivia Night.

"You look so good, I'm tempted to ditch them and take you someplace nice," Tommy murmurs against Buck's mouth.

"And have them say I'm a figment of your imagination? Nope. Plus, I dressed up to impress them," says Buck, smiling, giddy from his boyfriend's - boyfriend! Buck is never getting over that word - praise. "Well, Maddie helped to dress me. Wait that came out wrong. I meant, she helped to choose what I should wear. Did you know that royalty and nobility had, like, specific staff who helped to choose what they wore? The women were ladies-in-waiting and they were usually nobility, but of a lower station, and sometimes they were also available as sex partners to the king or the duke or prince or whatever. It's pretty exploitative, when you think about it..."

Buck sees Tommy's fond expression and his words taper off. Shyly, he kisses Tommy again.

"I may have gone down a few too many rabbit holes," he admits.

"That's amazing. You're amazing." Tommy smiles, and starts the car.

-

Buck is introduced to the group. Melton works at Harbor also, and immediately regales Buck with a story of how Tommy pleaded with their captain to drop him off at the hospital and won the bargain with promising to detail the engines the next few shifts.

"You did that for me?" Buck asks. "You didn't have to- Babe, you'd just fought a beast of a fire, I would've understood if you couldn't make it."

Tommy ducks his head, as if embarrassed. "Well, I promised. And the welcome was worth it."

They share a look, remembering the kiss in the lobby.

"You two are so sappy," Melton declares. "Can't believe we used to think you were cool."

"He is cool! He flew a helicopter into a hurricane. And landed on an upside-down cruise ship."

"Yeah, yeah. I still can't believe you're keeping your job after that jaunt."

Fernando, a wiry man with a bald head and a thick, curly beard, is the geography and botany expert. Jill Tan is their science person, her petite form nearly dwarfed by the three firefighters but her laugh is loud and free. Buck likes her. Melton is their sports and world history guy, and Tommy apparently has military and machinery trivia locked down. Buck guesses he's here to round out the team with his list of animal facts and maybe some other random bits that he's picked up on his Wikipedia tours.

"Who's on pop culture?" he asks when Tommy goes to get their drinks.

"That'll be- hey, there she is," says Fernando, waving his hand at someone over Buck's shoulder.

"Sorry I'm late, I meant to be here before Tommy comes with his... Buck?"

"Lucy?"

Fernando sips on his margarita. "So you two know each other?"

"Uh, yes, Lucy used to work at the 118," Buck manages to reply without stuttering. "I didn't know... How are you?"

At least Lucy looks as stunned as Buck feels. "I'm good. I'm, uh, yeah. I'm good. Earning my place in Harbor."

"Hey Donato, you're here. You know Evan, right? Here you go, Evan. Don't give me that look, try it first and then tell me how much you hate it." Tommy slides back into his seat, boxing Buck in.

Buck takes a sip and wrinkles his nose thoughtfully. "I don't hate it."

Lucy takes the last empty chair. There's a smile on her face that signals something, but Buck doesn't know what she's planning.

"Didn't know you were the Evan Tommy's been going all swoony about," she says casually. "Now I know why he goes all glassy-eyed when he texts you."

"He goes glassy-eyed and swoony?" Buck is amused and almost... touched? by the idea of Tommy being unable to hide his affection.

Melton nods. "It's good I'm already married, because I'd wanna hit him otherwise for being so blissed out."

"You'd be blissed out too if you're regularly kissed by this guy," Lucy says with a crooked smirk. "I should know."

Jill cackles. "Oh no, you kissed Tommy's boyfriend?"

"I wasn't his boyfriend at the time!" Buck sputters, face turning red. "Also, I was kinda drunk. Never doing that again."

"You were someone's boyfriend at the time though," Lucy continues blithely. "But I'm cute and irresistible, so I get it. I definitely didn't know you're into guys too." She cocks her head and looks straight at Tommy, curious.

"He wasn't consciously aware of that attraction until he met me." Tommy drapes an arm over Buck's shoulders, the weight a welcome focal point for him. "I'm damn lucky I'm the one he decided on. And from now on, all his kisses are for me alone." He meets Lucy's eyes.

Papers and pencils are being passed around. Buck feels the tension ease, in the way that highlights that there was a bit of tension earlier.

"Ugh, gross," Lucy declares, grinning, and hops off to get her own drink.

Jill raises her glass to Buck in a toast. "To bisexuality and knowing yourself!"

"Yeah!" Buck toasts back.

Tommy kisses his cheek. "Let's kick some trivia ass."

--

edited on AO3

[boyfhee]

MARRIED UNDER TWENTY-FIVE / sjy

SYNOPSIS : a look into yours and jake’s life as you meet, fall in love, get married, and lose each other— all under twenty-five. ( 5.3k )

or, eight months after your death, jake finds the courage to open your letter.

GENRE : heavy angst, bittersweet

WARNINGS : death, grief and grieving, heavy drinking, smoking, implications of substance abuse, one mention of intrusive thoughts, my attempt at cinematic parallels but in writing so i hope it's not confusing, switches between past and present. byf : written in italics are the contents of the letter

NOTE : was in the zone while writing this like the way i teared up?? boyfhee angst returns happy reading, everyone. ALSO big thanks to @flwrshee ri my bae for beta-reading this and reminding me to work on this from time to time lmfao. ib : richard feynman's letter to his dead wife (need someone who loves me the way he loves her)

buried in jake’s drawer is the letter he found four months ago. actually, it has been sitting there for over a year, under the pile of other papers and envelopes, tucked in the lowest drawer of the shelf, one that is rarely ever opened. you had put it there for him to find it— hoped that he would find it because you couldn’t bring yourself to give it to him yourself. jake had stumbled across it four months after you left him forever. four months after walking and stumbling, after four months of staring blankly at his ceiling, the letter is the closest he can get to you. 

he keeps it with him, in his bag, sometimes tucked in his coat during winters, as a bookmark for the books he reads that take him to back you, even if you only exist as a figment of his imagination. he keeps it on the bed-side table before he goes to sleep, it’s there in front of him on evenings he drinks for hours on empty. the letter stays unopened— he couldn’t bring himself to open it. his fingers brush against the pale paper and it feels like a sword to his heart. opening that letter feels like tearing you apart, and four months is what it takes jake to sit by the kitchen counter with the letter once again; with pain in his eyes and a scissors by the side. 

eight months after you’re gone, jake finds the strength to read it. 

‘i think the first time i fell for you wasn’t at the bookstore,’

your handwriting feels like a warm hug after a long day. his fingers tighten around the loose sheet of paper, a faint crease forming along the edges. a single tear rolls down his cheeks.

‘it was that day at the bus stop. it was raining, i was running towards the bus stop, covering my head with my bag. fortunately enough, the bus arrived a minute after, and you happily lent me your jacket before getting off at your stop,’ 

and jake remembers it clearly. grey skies and merciless rain, he was already late for his evening classes and the weather didn’t seem to help. he already missed a bus before making it to the bus stop near his apartment and managing to catch another, his umbrella decided to malfunction in the worst way on seemingly the worst day. his perfectly styled hair was ruined thanks to running in rain, across and under the sheds he could find. jake was so sure, it was the worst day in the nineteen years of his life, until the bus arrived at the stop, and his eyes handed on you as you stood at the bus stand, annoyed at the weather. 

jake could hear one of his friends calling his name from a distance as soon as he gets down from the bus, but all he did was look at you and offer you his jacket— the most far-from-normal and astonishing thing he had ever done— before you aboard the bus, shooting him a soft smile from the windows as it drove away.

‘i still don’t know why you did that,’ 

reading further, jake realises that he doesn’t know why he did that either. the two of you weren’t even heading in the same direction. he was rushing to the university campus while you wanted to catch the bus to your way home. the chances that he would get his jacket back were low, almost zero. there are days when he sits by the window and thinks about all the stuff you did together, about everything he did that led him to you. the jacket, perhaps it was supposed to end up with you, maybe it was the only way nineteen year old jake could’ve talked to you and get one step closer to your world after admiring you from the sidelines for months. 

‘the bookstore, i think it’s a place where i realised that i’m in love with you. a place where i made all my decisions about you, where i shared my firsts and lasts with you— as promised. if you’re wondering why i’m writing a letter in this date and era,’ 

his eyes are a little blurry, there’s a picture of you in the said book store in his mind. it’s like a nineties short film— a grainy image, slightly blurred, the voices are muffled, but jake feels every emotion down to the very core of his heart. 

on some days, he ends up in front of the same bookstore. there are evenings he sets out on a journey with no destination, wherever the roads take him. his eyes are up towards the sky, usually towards the venus shining like a gemstone, he likes to think it’s you, that you ended up being the favourite star in the sky. on evenings like those, jake sits outside the very bookstore his and your story originates from and lets his mind play the picture, tracing over the image of you in his mind. sometimes, he goes inside and sits at the same place you both used to sit, he’d pick the same books you used to read, occasionally coming across tiny doodles you left on some pages even though it violated the rules.  

‘it’s because i’m afraid i haven’t loved you enough,’ 

the words hit him like a train travelling at hundreds of kilometres per hour. jake pauses, putting aside his glass of alcohol, letting the words and tears you spilled on the paper diffuse through the tips of his fingers, wanting them to flow like they’re the blood in his veins. he reads it all over again, a single tear rolls down his cheek, a lifeless sigh escapes his mouth.  

‘because you were there on nights i stayed in the library to study for exams. you were there, at my door, whenever i needed you to drive me to classes. you were there outside my class, waiting for me, during lunch when i needed someone to hear my complaints, at the bus stop on days it got late because you didn’t like the idea of me going home all alone at night,’

because you were there on noons that jake had trouble remembering reactions of carboxylic acids and amines. you were there to bring him snacks or lunch whenever he got a little too immersed in concepts of quantum mechanics to even remember about his meals. you were there when he called you to complain about his professor, who kept adding his name to every single project, all because jake was an excellent student. when you stayed with him throughout the evening and beyond at the campus, accompanying you to your apartment late at night was the least he could do to thank you. 

‘you were there on the night it was raining and the power went out. i still remember how you looked— drenched and worried with your phone’s flashlight turned on, standing at my doorstep. you said that the crime rates were high and that it’s better for me to stay at your place that night. you were there for me day, noon and night, and all i’m doing in the end is saying goodbye.’ 

it was his first instinct— maybe even beyond first, if it exists, because the power went out in your whole neighbourhood, and jake was already calling you while running down the streets, towards your apartment, with nothing but his flashlight to guide him through the complete blackout that night. when you asked him why he was at your place, he spent ten minutes looking for an appropriate reason. perhaps, it was because he wanted to see you, or because he was worried to death, maybe acts of service are how you both look after each other— doing favours and being the helping hand. jake didn’t know, he still doesn’t know, as he sits by his kitchen counter, letting the small sips of alcohol intoxicate his systems gradually, killing him slowly, in a way that hurts so right. asking you to spend the night at his place was the toughest and the bravest decision jake had made in his entire life. 

‘agreeing to do that summer festival dance with you is still the best decision i’ve ever made, my proudest moment, and letting you step into my life was the second best. nothing compares to when you joined the music club and changed my life forever.’ 

the summer festival dance— jake remembers it, the memory is as clear as a crystal in his head, ingrained in his mind, every single second playing at the back of his mind even when he’s half wasted, as if he’s reliving the moment. no one had enough time to dedicate themselves to a mere summer festival dance, but jake saw you looking at the flyers on the notice board just three minutes after he had told jay that dancing was not his thing, and he knew he needed to get that dance with you. 

getting partnered up with you was a pure coincidence, but everything that led to it wasn’t. the deliberate bumping in the hallways and the extra cups of coffee that jake bought every morning for a friend that never seemed to attend classes, everything led to him and you standing in the practice room in front of him, helping him come up with dance steps for audition, which finally led to his selection on the team. 

jake attempts to gulp down all the contents of his glass before realising that it’s empty. another sigh falls off his lips as he reaches out for the bottle kept across the counter, pouring him yet another glass for the evening, another day spent drinking while drowning in the thoughts of you, another line of intoxication, another stray tear rolling down his face, another memory creeps inside his brain— this first dance rehearsal. 

he could’ve sworn, his heart stopped beating for good ten seconds when the instructor told him that he needed to lift you up for a dynamic step during the intro. it was simple— you in front of him, his hands on your waist, he would lift you up— but the hands on the waist, his hands on your waist, jake felt like he was about to pass out. the second time his heart skipped a beat was when you grabbed his hands and put it on your waist because he was hesitating beyond belief, and that was the beginning of everything. 

and the hand stayed there for as long as jake could remember. his hand resided on your waist whether you both were crossing the road, or sitting on a park bench while you showed him pictures of layla you look the evening before, or while taking mirror selfies, or in all those moments that he spent slow dancing across the living room with you. it was as if your waist had been the home his hands were searching for and now that you’re gone, they feel empty. in the silence suffocating him, sitting on a chair with his head hung low, the floor looks so pretty. there's a faint reflection of him on the tiles, then his eyes land on his hands.

maybe it's the timing that has been making him feel this way. perhaps, it's the location, the empty rooms with threatening silence and the empty streets, the empty hallway, the empty hours, the lack of something and abundance of everything— it's making him go insane. it’s the empty pockets of the seconds that pass by, an undisturbed wave of silence that is disturbed everytime he sighs or gets his glass on the granite kitchen countertop, pouring himself another glass of cancer.

he sniffs, it could be from cold or tears. jake can’t point to the reasons anymore. his gaze settles on your letter that lies on his lap, a few of his tears soak through the paper. he puts his glass aside once to pick up the letter and pads on your words with his fingertips, not wanting them to get smudged by his tears. occasionally, he tries to convince himself that this is a dream. that you're here, somewhere, perhaps at work or at the nursery, maybe out shopping with a friend or at your parent's house because you've been missing them lately. jake imagines himself waiting for you at the station or the bus stand or the airport, smiling like a fool because he hasn't seen you in days and finally he can have you close to him, his lips on yours, your hand in his,

but now, his hands feel emptier. 

there's a yearning for something he doesn’t know. his apartment feels emptier, the stillness amongst your stuff that lies around even after eight months of your death is paralysing. his arms stretch across the bed at night in hopes of feeling something, anything. he takes another sip from his glass, eyes focusing on your letter once again as he reads further. 

‘you can call me crazy but every second with you felt like living in a whole new world. i started noticing things i didn’t before— seriously, who even smiles while watching wind ruffle through clothes hung up for drying? it was as though i was living a monochromatic life, the same routine, same pattern; then it was you, and everything around me became so beautiful. suddenly, i stopped caring about assignments because i needed to talk to you all night. i didn’t care what i was getting into by skipping prof. hong’s lectures because we got to hang out together. i was knee deep in troubles but god, i was so happy because i had you standing in front of me, and i knew you’d pull me out. i know you’d be on the ninth cloud while reading this, probably even call me stupid but i don’t mind because it’s true; i am madly, stupidly, crazily, insanely in love with you,’ 

jake remembers the day he came to your apartment for the very first time. 

you two weren’t dating, but the line in between had started to blur, fading into something none of you could see but both of you enjoyed. amidst alcohol and the faint odour of cigarettes that encapsulates him, being all the reasons behind his stumbling steps and hazy mind, jake could still see you clearly in the back of his mind— the way you glowed under the mid-morning sun, the warm breeze sweeping away stray strands of your hair out of your face, and your arms raised up above your head to hang the clothes up for drying. he could make out your smile through the silence between you two. no words were shared, but the fluttering glances and quiet smiles said more than any words could ever convey.

and then jake realised— it wasn’t just you feeling this way. 

the presence of something intricately new in your daily routine, although too minute to point out with your fingers, lingered throughout his days and nights after meeting you. suddenly, the boring computer science lessons didn’t seem bad, for you would visit him after the classes. jake, who used to arrive in class exactly on time, started arriving minutes and hours early just to see you, maybe, even strike a conversation. you had mentioned to him your favourite thing about him— the way his hands hesitatingly slide inside his pockets whenever one of your friends mistook him as your boyfriend. it was the way he smiles, the subtle rosy tint on his cheeks, the shy gaze travelling everywhere but to your face because he was too embarrassed to look at you. being mistaken as each other’s lovers was a mistake none of you clarified, and it was only a matter of time before it came true.

when his eyes settled on your panting for hair in a secluded corner of the hallway after running out of professor hong’s classes while he was just about to notice you two was the moment jake fell in love with you.

and jake falls first, he falls hard. 

because there were two tickets to the movie in his pockets with words of asking you out on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to be spoken, and he was too busy being enamoured by your laughter as you leaned against the wall, catching your breath. your laugh is the music to his ears, watching you is better than any movie ever directed, and the feeling of his lips on you just a minute later in the same corner of the hallway is still the best feeling he has ever felt in his entire life. you were like a painter and his life— a canvas; and it was only after you he started seeing colours.

jake could get any girl he wanted but it was only after you, he realised who he needed in his life. 

‘remember the day you proposed to me? i cried all night.’

and jake lets out a dry chuckle as he reads through those words, gripping his glass a little tighter, feeling the carved patterns through the tip of his fingers. his eyes travel to the ring adored on his finger. it’s one thing keeping him close to wherever you are, and his eyes occasionally travel to the pen lying stray across the counter after he wrote something he, himself, doesn’t member. his fingers brush over the words you’ve written, letters that insinuate of you as he weep with love— jake wants to write back to you but he couldn’t, for he doesn’t know your new address.

‘it felt like a fever dream, the thought of marrying you. we met at nineteen, we fell in love at twenty, we got married at twenty-two— all under twenty-five, it was scary. it was like a thrill ride, like a rollercoaster, i had my parents tell me to wait things out. there were people who told me things, words about how i should be sure of who i’m marrying, certain if that person is right for me. it was the world against you and me, and i hate to admit that i understood their stance, but they never knew you like i do. they knew the jake who i fell in love with deeply enough to marry within four years. in their story, it was you and me and our young and immature love, and that’s it.’ 

it’s ironic because jake didn’t sleep all night after you said yes to his proposal. getting married at twenty-two was an adventure, you being the general instigator all, and he would just follow. waiting things out wasn’t even an option when it came to you, he knew what he wanted. you cried even while buying your engagement rings, on the wedding dress trial, the day before the wedding, and jake was there, every single time, holding you close, smiling against your lips as his kisses soothed you down. his heart was overflowing with love, with happiness he couldn’t contain.

being engaged was an eccentric feeling overall.

you weren’t his girlfriend, nor his wife. fiancée would be a better term, but jake called it a phase of transition. the knot was yet to be tied, people tried convincing you two out of it left and right. uncertainty spun in the air instead of saccharine smiles that usually cloud the days during weddings. it was the world against him and you— him, you, and your young immature love, a pair of rings exchanged, a promise made, a promise to stay.

and jake chuckles again, half annoyed, perhaps at fate, perhaps at himself. you promised to stay. another sip of alcohol goes down his throat, it tastes bitter than it used to. your picture in his head gets clearer as his vision starts to lose focus, your laughter echoes through the cracks in his heart. it reflects through every corner of his body, it stays inside with a yearning that makes him ache for you. your memory is now a child that he tries to lose in a grocery store, but also a place he comes to at the end of the day because nothing quite feels like home anymore. 

‘do you remember that conversation we had about secret codes? one that went on about how even inanimate objects could have ways to communicate? that is how i feel about you. it’s untranslatable, i cannot put it in words for others to understand. it’s a language that only me and my heart know.’

it all started on your very first marriage anniversary— heavy rains, skies painted grey, thunders seemed to exhibit their own orchestral opening. inside, the place was warm, his arms. sitting on the couch as you two sipped on hot chocolate, wrapped in blanket and soft giggles and laughter that emerged everytime one of you tried and stole a kiss. jake constantly apologised for not being able to do much for you and you would so exquisitely whisper to him how nothing matters as long as you have him while tracing your lips all over his face. he doesn’t remember when the conversation went from talking about how your kids would look to discussing whether the paintings hung up on the walls on your living room speak as well. no conclusion was drawn and the whole conversation was discarded as just another silly discussion, although jake knew what to make out of it.

the way you laughed when he tickled your sides, or the giggle that danced off your lips when his lips brushed against the tips of your fingers, the rhythm your heart beat when he placed his head on your chest, holding you ever so close, the conversations you two had by just looking into each other’s eyes. jake still can’t put it in words, it’s beyond the understanding of the world. he can blather about you to the stars and beyond and they would still not know you, but jake knows that if you were to come to him with a face he had never seen and a voice ever so unfamiliar, he would still know you. you’re far too well intertwined in his soul, he feels pieces of himself disappearing every time a distant memory of you blurs in his mind.

and perhaps, the stars will go out before he forgets you.

‘i don’t know if i chose the right university to graduate from, if my major was worth the effort, if giving up on caffeine was actually good for my health. there are a lot of things i’m unsure of, but jake, my darling, you, you’re one thing i know i got right. you’re something i’d choose over and over again, over a thousand times over a thousand years in a thousand different worlds. people have their doubts but i don’t, because i know that if i’m ever given a chance, i’d choose to take your jacket again, i’d have that dance with you, i’d fall for you at nineteen and i’d marry you under twenty-five once again.’ 

there’s a sense of uncertainty that always plagued his mind, at all points of his life. even now, when he’s sitting by the counter drinking glasses after glasses, an ashtray just a few inches away with the smoke still emerging like lifeless souls looking for their graves. there’s a voice that is telling him to stop, it sounds like you, or maybe, it’s just the alcohol playing tricks again.

he’s not sure.

nineteen year old jake didn’t know if he wanted you. he had a lot on his plate— expectations from people he knew, a whole life in front of him and he was out in the wild, with no plans or whatsoever. you were like another wind blown past him one august afternoon, your smile just another thing his eyes passed by, yet the first thing to flood his mind at night. it’s the sheer lack of certitude— why did he give you his jacket? why did his mind think of only you when it came to the summer festival dance? why is it that only your eyes seemed like his entire world? jake has been walking with his steps laced with hesitation, a fear of what could go wrong. it didn’t matter when it came to you. nineteen year old jake didn’t know if he wanted you, albeit he knew he didn’t want anyone else to have you.

‘you’re probably wondering why i’m writing this instead of telling you when i had the time, or why i didn’t give this to you sooner. it’s because i want you to read this if you ever feel lost, and i wanted to take my time and choose the right words. i wished for a life where i wouldn’t have to live without you, and if i knew that would end up with heavens changing our fates, i would’ve done anything to save you from this pain.’ 

his eyes are the first to remember. the face that he once cradled in his hands, now just a figment of his memories, an illusion he sees through mirrors and turns around frantically, heart beating out of his chest, hoping you’re still here. sometimes, he sits at the bus stands and formulates your responses to everything happening around. he sighs, brushing his fingers over the wedding ring as he pictures you looking up at him with a smile, as if you’ve never been happier. the way he had felt and the way he feels— the bittersweet ache between having and wanting— your words drown him in that pain over and over again.

loving you, to jake, is like knowing you before he actually got to know you. as if you had always existed in his heart and your presence only completed the puzzle. and in that brief moment between— wrapped in your arms, he would think, how lucky i am— a pause as he snaps back to reality.

how lucky he was.

‘i know this is an impossible bargain, i cannot swap your pain for something else even though i wish i could. i cannot make you forget me so that you can live a better life. it’s a pity, a shame, i’m sorry,’ 

he furrows his brows at your words, the one about living a better life without you, it’s a lie, a hypothesis never to be true. you held him close at times he didn’t feel like himself, when his own skin disgusted him and his own thoughts told him to cut the string, you wiped his tears and accepted his pain like your own— jake sniffles above the silence in the room— how could he live, when the very person who taught him to live left him forever? 

‘so for you, jake, my love, i wish you a lifetime of happiness and health. i want you to read this and realise the impact you had in my life. if you ever feel like we got to spend a very little time together, one that went by in a blink, i want you to know that your presence is something i’d hold in my heart for a thousand lifetimes. i won’t tell you to move on quickly, it’s hard, i know. instead i want you to take your time. go easy on yourself. let me go, one by one, one finger at a time,’

he reads the same words over and over again— let me go. to let you go, oh, how he wishes he could do that, but that’s the consequence of falling in love. jake would go out in the mornings to find a purpose, his ring kept undisturbed on the bathroom counter, and he would return home in the evening, back to silence and sorrow, holding the ring in his hand, fist close to his heart, him on the bed, and the night fills with his sobs.

jake didn’t lose you all at once, but instead, he’s losing you slowly, bit by bit, over and over again. he loses you whenever he absentmindedly calls out your name from across the house, only to be met with cold silence. he walks down the street and loses you the moment he sees a couple walking past him, hands intertwined, realising his hands would forever remain empty. he loses you everytime he thinks of kissing you, holding you, wanting you; every time he sits on the couch and watch the skies pour outside, drinking hot chocolate all alone. he loses you when nights get cold and he has no one to hold, and in the morning when he wakes up to the emptiness across the sheets, he begins to lose you all over again.

it’s hard to let you go, one finger at a time, when everything prompts him to get on his knees in front of the universe and beg for one chance to pull you back in his arms, to hug you for one last time.

just once more.

‘there wasn’t a second spent with you when i wasn’t smiling. you made me the happiest person in this entire world and in return, i wish the same for you. so, go and live the life you’ve wanted to live. do everything you had planned and become the person you want to be. when your friends reach you out, go out with them and drink your heart out. you’re not alone because your love isn’t the first to leave. even worlds apart, i’m with you. i’ll be there next to your favourite umbrella hoping that you remember to take it on rainy days. on nights you can’t sleep, i’ll be there holding your hand and singing to you. one day, you’ll be fifty, and i’ll be there with you. when you turn ninety, i’ll be there and i will still love you the same as i did when we were twenty. and if you fall in love with someone and decide to take the vows again, i’ll be there with you, and i’ll be there hoping for the happily ever after that you deserve.’ 

and unknowingly, you went away making yet another promise to stay, another commitment you couldn’t keep. jake knows his love isn’t the first to leave, it stays there, waiting, weeping, wanting. it stays everywhere you’ve ever been, next to your favourite mug that is still on the shelf, next to his. his love is with your toothbrush in the bathroom, with the picture of you and him on your very first date that is adorned in the photo frame kept in the bedroom. it’s ingrained in all the post-it notes you wrote to him that he has kept safely in a box, in all the matching jewellery you had got for the two of you, in every corner of the house that cries, yearning for you. 

he could be fifty and his love would be still there, in the fading polaroids and letters torn from the corners. at ninety, his love would be still there, waiting for you, his heart aching because he wanted to get old with you by your side. his love will stay there, for a thousand lifetimes, over a thousand years. it turns out, jake is just good at sad things, waiting, holding on, remembering.

‘whatever comes forth, wherever life leads you, know that i am with you,’ 

as for your words— jake scoffs, burying his head in his hands, tears smudging between his palms and cheeks— loving someone else isn’t even an option. 

to him, you, dead, are better than anyone else alive. 

‘until we meet again.’ 

[honeyhotteoks]

i genuinely can't stop thinking about yunho as a fallen angel... like...

yunho’s catholic confirmation name is stefano, which is i believe a reference to saint stephen. saint stephen is the patron saint of several different things, but the one that caught my eye was the patron saint of coffin makers. ive had that knowledge churning around in my brain for a long time, especially after watching the kdrama doom at your service, but after seeing these pictures my mind is absolutely spinning with fallen angel soulmate yunho brain rot……… so come along with me

•

fallen angel yunho. he's been wandering the earth for years, passing through life and people and history and he's never known the reason that he was cast out until he meets her, you. he hears you first, a distant voice in the back of his mind, a prayer to his saintly name, a name he hasn't heard in what feels like a millennia. a whisper to saint stephen, the man he used to be, many years and many bodies ago.

no one prays to him anymore, not really. certainly not a voice like yours, ringing clearly and angrily in his ear, a bitter request for a coffin to be ready in early spring. he thinks about the way it's almost winter now, the air turning crisp, and he wonders what in your life has you so angry and yet so practical about death.

he thinks of you for days, weeks, idlily waiting to hear the voice again. he dreams of it, sometimes wakes from a stone sleep to your bitter tenor, the clear catch of tears in your throat, but it's always a memory. he finds himself wandering the city for you, searching through churches, reverent houses of worship that you might be hiding away in. he doesn't expect to find your voice ringing out clear as day across the crowded room of a museum, full of life and joy and the picture of health.

he finds a way to speak to you, he's practiced in the art of conversation, of seduction even when the end goal isn't sex. he just wants to know you, to hear your pretty prayer in person, to understand your voice just a little and why in the world you were praying to him and not god himself like everyone else. in the midst of many, he makes a space for you both alone, the connection and the pull immediate and essential.

for a while, you make him smile, laugh, relax, he feels more at ease and more like a person than he ever would have expected. he doesn't understand you or your prayer though, not until you cough painfully, fitfully into your sleeve and he sees the bright kiss of blood at the corner of your lips. he never imagined you sick, but he supposes it makes sense. in all the versions of meeting you he imagined, this outcome wasn’t one he ever entertained.

he's never watched someone he's loved die before, at least not since his first life, and shamefully he barely remembers the names of his family from then. but somehow he knows he'll remember yours, the way he aches is altogether new and even though he knows it would be better to watch over you from afar, he just can't. and it doesn't help that you keeps finding your way to him around every corner of the city, coincidence after coincidence. so easy to joke about how it must be fate when it is in fact fate, pulling you tightly together and tying the knot tight.

he allows himself to love you then, and you allow yourself one last, good thing. he never lies about who and what he is, and you never really believe him, for all you know he's just a figment of your imagination. a hallucination from one of your tumors like the doctor warned you about. you think if cancer can give you one gift before dying, at least it's him.

for a little while yunho thinks his purpose in falling from grace was to love you, after all you prayed to him, no matter how bitterly. but he understands the truth the moment he meets your daughter, the moment he realizes his purpose for you is much more than momentary, final happiness.

and so he carries you forward through those final months, easing your pain and your giving you one last chance at real, lasting love. and he helps ease you into the other side, his promises whispered tearfully into your hair, that he'll see you again but only after he stays by her side. your child's own guardian angel, happy to watch over her and guide her until it's her time to come home too.

and of course, that means he has to wait. you both do, but he's already waited, even when he didn't know what he was waiting for.

[lefarte]

Hallo, may I make a soft Levi funger x reader request? 💜

So polite heheh yes of course. My first request, is it cause he’s my profile picture 👀 ? You didn’t specify if you wanted headcanons or more of a ficlet (is that a word?) so I just sort of did my best I hope this is decent 🩷

Under the cut ^_^ no content warnings, just fluff, gender neutral reader

When Levi got clingy (which is often) it rarely manifested through physical touch. He’s hardly willing to do any more than tug on your sleeve to get your attention, and even this is a very small action that you could easily miss. More than anything, he liked to watch and guard you. Even if you kept telling him it wasn’t necessary, you always found him awake at the small hours of the morning over your bed.

“…I… I was awake anyway, so…”

He muttered something like that and then turn away. What would he do if not watch over you? Oil his gun? Count the windows in the building, count the entrance and exit points, think about his life up until this point? Since the war, even his mind became something of a problem. Always rearing its head at inopportune moments.

When he looked at you and the way your hair is fussed up first thing in the morning, he could almost imagine… domesticity. Something like this; he wakes up, and your hands are entangled from the night before, and you yawn and rub your eyes. You would eat breakfast together and talk.

“…How long have you been up?” You pulled the blankets off. “Did you sleep at all?”

Levi nodded. “I did…”

“You’re getting tremors in your hands again.”

He looked at his hands, cracked and dirty and covered in dry blood, bitten and shaky. A telltale sign. Within a few hours, maybe less, the nausea would come, and then the cravings, the sweat and the migraine. He shrugged.

You rolled out of bed. The bed squealed as you got off. To his surprise, you came to him.

“Don’t bite it,” You said, looking at his hands.

He blinked.

“You bit so hard you’re bleeding,” You reiterated, touching his fingernails.

He cocked his head, much like a dog. “S…Sometimes I wonder if you’re a… real… person.”

…Or a figment of his imagination. The first time he saw you, he ran away. You must have been some ghost of his past, one of the many dead faces brought animate by the withdrawals. And you kept pursuing. He thought for sure you wanted to kill him for what he did. Instead of that, you gave him heroin. And then you gave him food, and took him in, for absolutely no cost.

He decided that you must not know, and you should never know.

“Don’t be silly.”

You put a bandaid over his finger.

“…No…really… you shouldn’t be here…” Not in Prehevil. It’s a rotten place, for bad people. “And… um… I don’t need a bandage… you should save that.”

“You say weird things sometimes. It makes me want to squeeze you.”

He couldn’t respond to that. “Huh.”

“You need to get some sleep.”

“Stay here...” He croaked.

He had to admit that you were being sensible. The lack of sleep had been getting to him. He was saying things he shouldn’t say. The sun hadn’t fully risen, so… he could afford himself to rest for maybe another 20 minutes. Being generous.

It felt pathetic to beg.

“I’ll keep watch.” You promised.

Swallowing his shame, he slipped under the covers. It was still warm from your body heat. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt the warmth of a human, even if it was just the lingering traces from your pillow. He almost felt excited like a little kid. Its like an indirect hug, he thought.

You sat at the foot of the bed. You had no rifle to polish or any way to keep yourself occupied, except to listen to the soft breathing of Levi next to you. The way he curled up was soft, never like how a soldier should sleep. He left his rifle.

“Sleep well,” you said softly.

“….yeah….”

[lemoncrushh]

Sometimes It Be That Way

Summary: Soon after a breakup, Lilliana met Harry...but their relationship may have been doomed from the start.

Warnings: Very angsty!

Word Count: 2281

A/N: Real Harry and OC fic written in 2017. I had been working on a long fic during this time, and I think I was just in the mood for some angst. Inspired by the Jewel song of the same name.

We had a rocky relationship. I reckon it was inevitable since we'd had a rocky start.

Seven months earlier...

I wrapped my coat tightly around me as I struggled to open my umbrella. I cursed at the rain, the cold, the hotel awning that barely kept me dry and my bloody useless and poor excuse for an umbrella.

"Fucking hell!" I screamed, giving up and throwing it on the wet pavement. "I hate you!"

"Um...I dunno if that was called for."

Twirling around to find where the voice had come from, I came face to face with someone I not only did not expect to see, but probably the last person I wanted to see...other than maybe him. I'd known he was in London. I'd already seen his picture plastered on massive signs around the city as well as in the newspaper and on the telly. And had it been any other moment in time, I might've felt my heart flutter and my breath catch in my throat. But he'd caught me on the worst day. Scowling, I turned back around shoving my hands in the pockets of my coat.

"It was absolutely called for," I mumbled.

"Oh, but you can't say things like that to inanimate objects." I heard him say as he walked around me and bent down to retrieve my discarded umbrella.

"What?" I rolled my eyes.

Standing up straight, he looked at me and smirked. "They can't fight back."

I felt a breath sputter from my lips as I shook my head. Was this guy for real? Oh, that's right. He was Harry Fucking Styles. Mr. Perfect. He wasn't real. He was merely a figment of everyone's imagination, conjured up by gold dust and television producers. Holding out his hand, my umbrella still halfway open inside it, he raised his brows.

"Now what on earth did this thing ever do to you?"

Grabbing it from him hastily, I pressed the button again to try to eject it.

"It doesn't fucking work!" I spat. "Bloody piece of shit!"

"Lemme see. Here, take mine."

Harry held out his solid black umbrella, no doubt some designer one like Gucci or some crap. I took it, determined to watch him make a fool of himself as he fumbled with my cheap red polka dot one. But much to my surprise (and dismay), after just a couple presses of the button and movements of the runner across the tube, he got it open.

"There," he grinned with pride.

"Hmm," I sounded, switching umbrellas with him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Harry lifted his eyes to the sky, then back at me. "Doesn't look like you'll be needing it now, though."

"Ugh," I groaned, noticing the rain had stopped. I snapped the umbrella closed and tossed it into my bag. "Fucking story of my life."

Instantaneously, I covered my mouth just as Harry threw his head back laughing.

"Oh my God, I did not just say that," I mumbled through my hand.

Harry continued to giggle with glee, no doubt mocking me and my discomfort. I muttered a few curse words under my breath as I turned around and walked down the pavement, trying to find a taxicab.

"Wait!"

I could hear his expensive boots clicking behind me before he caught up to me. Ignoring him, I opened the cab door hurriedly and slipped into the back seat.

"Wait!" he called again, reaching the open door. "Where are you going?"

"Uh...away."

I caught the expression on his face, a flitting moment of hesitation as he eyed his surroundings before he slid into the back seat next to me.

"What are you doing?" I asked as he pulled the door shut.

Instead of answering my question, he leaned forward and told the taxi driver an address. It was a familiar location to me, a restaurant I used to frequent.

"Hello," he smiled at me as he sat back in the seat, his dimple making me want to punch him.

"What the hell?" I narrowed my eyes.

"Are you always this crude and impolite, or is it only to polka dot umbrellas and men who try to help you?"

Pursing my lips, I knew there was no comeback I could give. He'd called me out on my own shit.

"Harry Styles," he held out his hand.

"I know," I nodded as I shook it. "Lilliana Richard."

"I know," he echoed.

I made a face. Of course he knew who I was. I wasn't famous, but only by association. My boyfr- er - ex-boyfriend was Jackson Humes, brother of Lolly Humes, a model-turned-actress. Occasionally my name and/or photo would pop up in articles about her if I was out with Jackson at one of her celebrity functions.

"I suggest we start over, Lilliana," declared Harry.

That's what I'm trying to do, I thought. But of course, he meant him and me.

"Fair enough," I sighed. "How do you reckon we do that?"

"Let's start with lunch, yeah?"

I swallowed hard, nodding. "Okay."

"Good," he smiled, his dimple this time making me smile in return.

It was then that I actually got a good look at him. He wore a long black coat, matching jeans and old scuffed brown boots. His head adorned a green beanie, and it looked like he was growing his hair out again, the curls longer than I remembered seeing before. To put it mildly, he looked beautifully cozy, and he smelled heavenly.

We reached the restaurant after only a few minutes of small talk. Harry paid the cabbie just as discreetly as he got us a table in a private corner. After we ordered, he folded his arms on the table and leant forward.

"So...Humes?"

"Sorry?" I asked, almost spitting out my water.

"You're still dating him? Or no?"

I bit my lip, folding my cloth napkin in my lap. "No."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"How could you?" I said a little too harshly. "We just broke up."

"Ugh," he lowered his head. "That's...just?"

"Four days ago."

"Oh. Sorry."

I sighed and gazed around the room. "It's okay. I'm fine."

I felt the tears welling in my eyes as soon as I uttered the lie. I shook my head before dropping it into my hands.

"No, I'm not."

"Hey..." Harry whispered, reaching his hand across the table as my body shook with sobs. "Lilliana. Do...do you wanna talk about it? Or...we can go if you need to."

Regaining my composure, I wiped my eyes, sure my mascara had run down my face already.

"I hate him," I groaned through my teeth. "I hope he goes to hell."

"Ouch. What happened? If...if I can ask."

"I walked in on him shagging another woman, that's what happened," I said bluntly.

"Oh, fuck."

"Yeah. I'd come to London to surprise him. But I'm the one who got surprised. Yay me."

The waiter came with our food then, but both of us sat in silence as we stared at our plates. It was me who actually spoke next.

"I spent four days in that hotel room crying. This morning was the first time I was able to step foot outside."

Harry looked at me for a while, seeming to study me. I noticed how his eyes appeared kind and concerned, but mostly how green they were.

"No wonder," he shook his head.

"No wonder what?"

"Your attitude when we met. The 'I hate you' was not for the umbrella. It was for him."

I blinked in agreement. Harry's shoulders fell as he looked at his untouched food. Then placing his napkin on the table, he waved at the waiter who walked over.

"Sorry, mate, but can we get these to go?"

"Certainly."

Harry had ended up taking me to his place that day. It wasn't like he was trying to put the moves on me, or anything romantic really. I reckon he was just allowing me some privacy to cry and let it all out. I cried on his sofa and his shoulder well into the evening. We ate our food from the restaurant, and it was probably the best meal I'd ever eaten in my life.

I saw him again a month later when he was in Manchester where I lived, and he rang me, suggesting we get together for a drink. My initial reaction was no. I still wasn't completely over Jackson. But I was getting there, and Harry had been so kind.

Something happened that night. Unexpectedly, yet with an insatiable heart, I let myself fall in love again.

Even after our relationship became public, some of my friends worried that I'd rushed into it too quickly, and that Harry was just a rebound romance. I assured them that wasn't the case, that I was in love. But one thing was certain. I had a jealous bone which resulted in me expecting the worst.

Harry and I quarreled a lot because of it. And although I wanted so badly to stand my ground, deep down I knew that one day it would most likely be our ultimate demise.

One night we were at a party in London, given by his friend Nick Grimshaw whom I adored immensely. I was rounding the bar when someone poked me and called me a name that not only wasn't mine, it was Harry's former girlfriend's. I lost it. They laughed it off, saying "whoops", but I wanted to spit in their face.

Harry found me in the toilet ten minutes later as he knocked on the door to get me to come out.

"Lilliana!" he called. "Come out, love! Jesse was just kidding. He said it was a joke."

"Some joke!" I cried.

"Babe. He thought it would be funny."

"Do you hear me laughing?"

"Lil. Come out, please. Or I'm coming in."

Sniffling, I opened the door slowly. "I wanna go home," I declared.

Harry sighed. "Fine."

When we arrived at his house, we both walked upstairs to the bedroom without so much as a word. I stood in the middle of the room, staring out the large window. I could feel myself start to shake with the threat of more tears, but none came.

"Lilli..." Harry whispered behind me.

"I'm sorry I ruined the party," I mumbled.

I heard him sigh loudly, exasperated. I knew. I was getting to be too much for him to handle. I could already feel the goodbye coming. I braced myself for the end.

"Baby, you had to know Jesse was joking."

"It wasn't funny to me, Harry."

"I know. It's just...it's kind of an ongoing gag we have going because press loves to make up lies. And anytime I'm even seen with someone else, her name is brought up."

I spun around. "That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"Well yeah. 'Cause I'm with you now. Even Nick and Jesse said they like you and think you're more fun to be around that anyone I've ever dated. That should make you feel good, yeah?"

"I don't care what they said! It doesn't mean shit!"

"So, whining and sulking is what you choose instead?" he scoffed, shaking his head. "Lil..."

Harry stepped closer to me, taking my hands in his. "Lil...I love you. I really do. I tell you that all the time. I show you. Why isn't that enough?"

"I don't know," I cried, wiping a stray tear that had found its way to my cheek. "I guess...I guess I'm so afraid I'm gonna lose you."

"I'm not Jackson, Lilliana."

I shut my eyes tight, the sound of his name still cutting like a knife.

"I don't cheat," he added. "Never. I never have, and I never will. When I'm with you, I'm with you only. And you're the only one I wanna be with, Lil. Why don't you believe that?"

I took a shaky breath as he spoke his next words.

"I know you were hurt before, terribly. But it's been seven months now. You can't keep doing this."

Swallowing hard, I opened my eyes and nodded. Then I pressed my palms to my eyes, seeing a kaleidoscope of colours before I blinked and looked Harry in the eye.

"You're right. I swear, it won't happen again."

I turned for the closet and pulled out my suitcase, dropping it on the bed.

"What are you doing?" asked Harry incredulously.

"I'm going back home," I replied, shoving as many clothes inside as I could. Then I grabbed my phone and booked a taxi to pick me up.

"Lilli...what the hell? You can't..."

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so very sorry."

I zipped up my suitcase and carried it past him to the hallway.

"Baby, I didn't mean...this isn't what I want," he followed me down the stairs.

"Isn't it?" I stopped at the bottom, turning around.

"No!"

"Yes. You want someone who isn't going to be worrying every minute that she's gonna find you in bed with someone else. And you know what? You deserve that. I'm so sorry it's not me."

"Lilliana!"

I reached the door and opened it, standing in the doorway.

"Lil, please," I heard him beg.

I turned to see him with the most bewildered look on his face. It hurt me to hurt him.

"You're absolutely right, Harry. I can't keep doing this. Let's not make it any harder. We know what's best. I love you."

Blowing him a kiss, I shut the door behind me and walked outside the gate where the taxi met me.

I'd cried for four days over Jackson. Over Harry...I cried twice as long.

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