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MERRY CHRISTMAS AND FESTIVE WISHES TO ALL MY FOLLOWERS AROUND THE WORLD 🎄

Whether you celebrate Christmas or not THANK YOU SO MUCH for these incredible few months and supporting my journey!!!! You guys are more than followers!!!!

I wish you and your family good health and an amazing few days!! I hope you also have an amazing New Years and celebrate in the best way possible!!!

I will try an update in between as I do have pre-written chapters but during these times most of my family are visiting so posts will be sporadic until 2025 is here✨

Again have a RESTFUL few days!!! LOOK AFTER YOURSELVES and your family!!!! Eat lots and drink lots of (does not have to be alcoholic can be water)!!!!

Merry Christmas & Festive Wishes

Lots of love

The Random Page 🤍🤍

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Her Soul for His Soul Chapter 2 🌜Seungmin🌛

Trigger Warnings: violence, torture, sexual references, death, slavery, disturbing imagery

For a thousand years, I have existed. Over a thousand years I have been a slave to Lucifer and the council. Collecting and stealing souls. Being summoned by pathetic humans to do their dirty work for the last five hundred years, all because I killed someone named Jisung's lover. Who was a pathetic mortal being. This ended up with the council sending me to do shit for humans. Until today, I was finally freed from the Kim family. The council have freed me from my debts as I have repaid them and Jisung over by a hundred. I learned to never make the same mistake again. I should have researched that demon before committing the act. It was because I thought it was funny to execute a human in the biblical sense which everyone but Jisung found funny. It was funny to see people praying for a God that didn't exist. Except he did but there was more than one God. There was a group of them, but their politics was complicated.      God's were not perfect like the mortals thought. Some were graciously good and sickeningly pure. Others were similar and yearned for pure virgin mortals as a sacrifice. Some gifted witches practised for years and years to become a God and then ascended into the higher realms to be a God. One thing gods have in common is they all agree not to involve themselves in each other's business. In a sense, you could say Lucifer was the God of the Hell realms. The highest-ranked angel with all the power was banished to a realm a God created for him, so Lucifer created six more realms that Demons and Reapers could cross over.      Us Demons are like angels. We have wings but horns instead of a fucking pathetic golden ring around our heads that controls us. We worship freedom. We hunt souls to help the reapers to send them to the underworld. We have so much power and money that any human would be lucky to have. When we collect souls their money becomes our spiritual money. If we ever returned to the mortal world we could transfer it to their coinage or any coinage in their world. Here it was the same. If we went to the market in Hell realm four we could buy, bargain and haggle. It sucks if your are a poorer monster or a novice demon because it requires skill and experience.

I ENTERED THE BAR TO GREET MY FRIEND. He was so excited. He hasn't seen me in over two hundred years. That was the thing about being a Demon. Time goes by far too quickly. The concept of time for us was very different. We had forever. If something didn't kill us or we weren't executed we'd survive a very very long time.      "Long time no see hyung." Jeongin called out, his blue eyes glowing in the dark as he found a table for us. The word 'hyung' was a word for older brother. It was a word from our dead language that only demons and repears could speak but it was pretty much a dead language now. No one but the older demons spoke it. "You did see me, Jeongin. Two hundred years ago." I said, my tail pulling out the chair for me to sit on. Jeongin was a young Demon. About three hundred years younger than me but he was an extravagant soul hunter. He was half Reaper half Demon. His cousin was the Grim Reaper. No one knew the Grim's real name and no one messed with him. He was the guard to all the souls and the keeper of the underworld. He rarely stepped foot in this world.      "Did you get your book back in the end?" Jeongin asked. "Fuck. No. It's still in that mortal realm. I couldn't fucking find it." I growled. Slamming my fist upon the table. That book was the key to summoning me. The book bound me to its owner.  They became my keeper. The book was part of my soul. I had to hand that book over to the Kim bloodline so they could summon me, but it was torture. Some Kims in the past would build a tunnel for me to live in. Some would shackle me and torture me. It was worse than hell. "We're going to have to go back to the mortal realm and get it," Jeongin said worriedly. He knew how much pain and effort I went through in the mortal realm. I had to get it back. "It's Halloween soon. What if some idiot tries to get hold of it? Does the Kims still have it?" Jeongin asked. "No. When Lucifer granted me protection for a week I questioned them. One of their idiot grandchildren lost it and sold it to a charity shop." I growled. Jeongin laughed but abruptly stopped as he realised I would be dragging him into this.       Jeongin hated the mortal realm. He almost never hunted souls in the mortal realm. He got frightened off by some witches and then bullied by other Demons for it. Jeongin slayed creatures in the hell realm for souls. He was more comfortable here and so was I. I loved it here. I yearned for the heat. The comfort. The freedom. Hell was a never-ending place. The humans may even refer to it as being like space. There was no ending for us in this realm. Lucifer expanded it every century so no one could reach the end. There was even a rumour he would expand a ninth realm because of the amount of criminals passing through to us because the Gods changed the laws. Even a one-time a liar who died the next day was banished to this realm. It was crazy. The Gods were mean. They weren't as merciful as Lucifer. He was forgiving. He was all-knowing. He was nobel. But, piss him off, he would hurt you.      "So we going then," Jeongin asked nervously. I smirked at him, flashing my gold eyes. I was so ready to fuck with humans one last time. I just pray to Lucifer an idiot doesn't find my book. "Yeah let's fuck and find out for a few days since Halloween is coming up."

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We’ve got to 600 followers thank you so much

Without you guys sharing and voting this would not have happened!!!! Thank you to everyone who has followed my journey!!!!

Also thank you to the guys who’s been here since Day 1!!!!!! YOU ARE THE BEST!!!!

Thank you for everything guys

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Her Soul for His Soul: Chapter 1 🌞Y/n🌞

Trigger Warnings: Fear, anxiety, paranormal activity, swearing, light manipulation

I used to be scared of many things in life, horror films, violence, weeping angels, you name it, I was afraid. As I went to university things changed. I became less afraid. That was mainly due to the fact that my university was in Mystshell. A place that was rich in witchcraft. A place where the supernatural lived. That wasn't why I chose it. I chose it because I had an interest in history, the arts, the culture, the religion, the literature. Everything fascinated me about Mystshell. Its name was obvious, it was a village by the sea and a river ran through it separating each other. Mystshell was over a thousand years old and rumoured to be the home to witches and werewolves but there was never any proof. It was an attractive village, small and quaint that attracted occultist people.       I came from a large village, south of the country. A big city, that was vibrant but it had a high crime rate, but so did Mystshell. That wasn't what drew me Mystshell anyway, but I was here to study for three years before going off to be a teacher. That was my plan. If I had my way I would be sucked into SKZ Mate's books and become Straykids' mate but that was never going to happen, because shit like that doesn't exist. Stray kids don't exist; they are fictional men trapped in a book. Still, the possibility of ghosts and spirits were far more likely to exist than witches along with werewolves anyway. But tonight my friends and I were going to find out.       It was Lisa and Winter's stupid idea to buy an Ouija board from Amazon to try and connect to any spirit. Good or bad. They wanted to try. They wanted to try before Halloween because Halloween was coming up and if spirits were real, we didn't want it disrupting our night. So, we were going to do it tonight after lectures in my dorm. Why? They wanted to break my fear of the unknown. I had a fear of things going bump in the night. I hated the idea of spirits being around my room. I don't like going into graveyards at night. I definitely didn't like horror films but my friends trained me to watch them at night in their rooms every night which helped a little.       We had prepared for it. We went to the shops and bought candles and salt. Why we needed salt, I had yet to learn. Winter said it was about trapping a spirit inside. Like we would ever need to trap a spirit inside. Anyway, we had alcohol, salt, an Ouija board, and candles. Oh, yeah candles were not allowed in the dorms, because it would set the fire alarms off. It didn't though because Winter smokes in her room, so that was a lie, but sure it was a fire hazard.

HERE WE WERE STUCK INSIDE OUR LECTURE. We were supposed to be watching a clip about the history of demons but our professor had spent the last forty-five minutes trying to get the audio to work since the back row could not read the subtitles. Me and Lisa had our heads on the table, bored out of our minds while Winter was planning the night. "Is there a problem with the back table? Did we not get enough sleep." Professor Whimsical called out. "Yeah, because Winter here wants to summon a bloody spirit," Lisa called out groggily, making me laugh. "Maybe you should pay attention to this. This is very informative." "Nah, professor we want spirits, not demons," Winter answered back making me roll my eyes. She was far too determined to do this. "Demons and spirits are very similar..." Professor Whimsical continued to drone on and on about the notion of demons which we should have been listening to but to us, they were far too supernatural that we did not believe in them. Well, Winter and Lisa didn't believe in them but I would if we summoned the bloody things.       Winter was more of a ghost hunter. She chased the unknown and loved the dark. She would go to haunted houses to find things or go to séances with her grandmother to connect to a deceased family member. All of her family were spirit chasers. They were also incredibly superstitious.       Lisa on the other hand was someone who was curious. Lisa was easily led astray, like me. We would get asked to do something and then all of a sudden we were doing it. "How long have we got to go until this lecture is over?" Lisa asked me. "Um, another hour and a half. It's a three-hour lecture today!" I sighed. "Do you think we'll get a break today?" "No, I doubt it. He's on a tangent." I said shaking my head. Professor Whimsical always went off on a tangent whenever he got excited. He would always talk about his mother-in-law who was living with them. We all knew more about his unhappy life than we probably should of.       During this dull lecture, I decided to research what the salt was and how effective it was going to be using an ouija board. According to Spar.net salt is used to purify the ouija board before use to connect to the right spirit, but we didn't do that. We had only got the board, yesterday so why did we need salt? At this point, I had no idea but went with it.       Deep down I didn't believe in it, despite what Winter's grandmother had said, I didn't believe in it. Winter herself never experienced anything supernatural only in dreams, but they were dreams. Her grandmother believed she could see things, like spirits, images, figures, and objects. Her grandmother believed things moved around her house. Winter's mother and her family believed she was schizophrenic but Winter believed in her grandmother. She truly did. I think today was going to be the closure Winter needed and we would be there to support her when it happened.

AS SOON AS OUR LECTURE FINISHED WE WERE READY! By we I meant Winter and and Lisa. They were determined. They even had set up the Ouija board in my room, while I made dinner. They decorated the bedroom with candles lit ready to summon whatever was out there. The salt was drawn around it in a circle where a star presented itself in the middle. The Ouija board laid nicely on top. "Guys dinner is ready," I called out with my pasta bowl, staring down at the floor. I was feeling nervous or nauseous about this. This seemed wrong to play with the dead. They should be left alone and now we're summoning one. "You're fucking crazy," I said with a mouthful of food. I headed back to the kitchen and made myself a strawberry gin and lemonade, chugging it down. Not enough for me to hallucinate but enough to feel giddy and stable enough to go through with this. "Drink something stronger," Winter suggested but I sighed. It would be her that would hallucinate. "Let's play some Marilyn Manson. Get in the mood." "He scares me enough as it is." I laughed nervously as I looked at Lisa who shrugged her shoulders.       All that was now playing in the kitchen was 'let's get evil, feeling sacrilegious.' It was fitting as what we were about to do was technically evading a sacred space.       Winter wolfed down the food and drank a load of whisky as she could do we could hurry up and summon a spirit, whereas Lisa was getting slower and slower. She was not ready to involve herself in this. "Rules. There are a few rules. The salt is to trap the spirit so we can talk to it, but the most important thing is to say thank you and goodbye. We should always be polite." Winter slurred. This was fan-fucking-tastic. Winter is gonna fall asleep before we can all say goodbye. "We ready girls?" Winter asked. "Yeah let's do it," I said and followed Winter into my room. Sitting next to Winter on her left I watched Lisa sit on the right side of her. Winter took my hand and I took Lisa's hand, waiting to see what was going to happen in the dark room. "We call upon the spirit world and welcome any kind of spirits to walk with us." I don't welcome any spirits. Just good ones. "Spirits we call to you. Please come and talk with us." Winter moved the planchette in a circle three times, repeating the words again. "Put your hand on it. Both of you." Winter whispered. I nervously placed my two fingers on the wooden planchette feeling the cold air run through my veins as we circled the board three times. "Is there anyone there?" Wonder asked and the planchette moved to yes. I raised my eyebrow at Winter and she shook her head, telling me it wasn't her. It wouldn't be Lisa as she was stone-cold petrified. She was frozen on the spot. "Are you a good spirit?" The planchette moved back to yes before we pushed it towards the middle. It can lie. "Are you telling the truth?" Winter asked bravely. It moved to no. As soon as Winter asked for a name the candles blew out and Winter let go of the board with a scream. She was petrified as if she saw something behind me. "Put your hand on the fucking board. We have to say goodbye." Lisa panicked. She was crying and I was feeling sick. "Goodbye." Lisa and Winter said before fleeing to their room leaving me stuck to the board. "Thought we were supposed to be polite," I muttered. "Thank you spirits and goodbye."       I circled once and thanked the spirit, making sure I was polite before bidding them a goodnight. I packed up the board and put it back into the box before going into the bathroom. I pulled the bathroom light switch and nothing came on so I used my phone, clicking on data to see the group chat say something about the power going out in block D so security is coming over to fix it. I cursed Winter for this because this was an eerie coincidence. Using my flashlight I shined the light towards the mirror to see my face when I saw a black foggy figure touching my head and then everything went black.

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The Moon’s Shadow Part 1 (Changbin)

Summary: When an ancient vampire smells a delicious scent that calls to him he can’t stay away. He’s addicted. He’s obsessed. He wants her and only her.

Requested by: Me @therandompagesblog 💕

Trigger Warnings: Stalking, obsession, implied danger, emotional distress.

By the time I laid eyes on her, I was already too far gone. It was her scent. The way her blood called to me. It sang! It began like all things do, subtly. Her scent carried in the air, elusive yet intoxicating, pulling me toward her like a tether to my very being. For centuries, I had wandered through a world dulled by monotony, immune to the fleeting, colourful lives of mortals. But she—she was different. Her laugh. That laugh, ringing like chimes in the twilight, woke something in me I hadn't felt in centuries. Curiosity. Hunger. Obsession.

For weeks, I shadowed her. Days, of course, were impossible. The sun's cruel rays would reduce me to ash in moments, but the night. The night was mine. Beneath the moon's gaze, I trailed her footsteps, always in the shadows, always just out of reach. She worked late in the city, her long days bleeding into restless evenings. Her apartment was modest, a third-story walk-up in a quiet neighbourhood that clung to its sense of safety. But I could see through the cracks in her blinds, see how her evenings dissolved into books, steaming cups of tea, and nights spent writing furiously at her desk. I should've stayed away! But I couldn't. The more I watched her, the more I wanted to know her. To unravel every secret locked behind that sharp wit and soft gaze. Sometimes, I lingered outside her window just to hear her hum absentmindedly as she worked. I could hear the brush of her fingers against the paper, the scrape of her pen. Once, I even heard her mutter a curse when the ink ran dry, and I laughed—a low, quiet sound that startled even me. She didn't hear me, of course. She never did.

I followed her everywhere. To the corner café where she always ordered the same cup of coffee, bitter and black. To the bookstore where she lingered too long in the poetry section, fingers ghosting over leather-bound spines. To the park where she fed pigeons in the late hours of the evening, her breath misting in the chill air. The world melted away in those moments, and it was only her. Her warmth, her humanity, her heartbeat thrumming like a siren's call. Once, she dropped a book while leaving the café, and I caught myself reaching for it before stopping mid-step. I watched her glance around for a moment, puzzled, before picking it up herself and walking on. I told myself it was for her safety that I kept my distance. That I was protecting her from the monster I had become centuries ago. But the truth was far more selfish: I wasn't ready for her to see me. What if she recoiled? What if the awe I felt for her was nothing but disgust in her eyes? And yet, I wanted her to know me, even if only a sliver of the truth.

The hunger grew unbearable. It wasn't just blood I craved—though the thought of her pulse beneath my lips ignited a storm in me I could barely contain—it was everything. The way she moved, her voice, her scent. The hunger became a weight, suffocating and relentless, until I found myself perched at her fire escape one evening, just outside her window. She was there, of course, scribbling in her notebook, her brow furrowed in thought. A loose strand of hair fell over her face, and she tucked it behind her ear absentmindedly. I wanted to reach through the glass. To brush her hair back.To say her name. But I didn't. I couldn't. Instead, I whispered it under my breath, savouring the taste of it on my tongue like a forbidden prayer. "Y/N..." Her pen stilled. For a moment, I thought she heard me, but she simply sighed, setting the pen down and stretching her arms above her head. My fingers curled into fists, nails biting into my palms as I fought the urge to reach for her. Then, she stood, walking to the window. I froze, retreating further into the shadows as she glanced outside. She looked through me, her eyes scanning the empty street below before she sighed again and drew the curtains shut.

It was raining the night I made my decision. The storm had rolled in quickly, drenching the city in sheets of silver, and I found myself at her door, soaked but unbothered. I could hear her inside, pacing. Her heartbeat was erratic, quickened by some unseen worry. What was she afraid of? The thought sent a pang through me, sharper than any stake. I couldn't stand it anymore. The hiding, the distance—it was maddening. I raised my hand to knock but hesitated. Would she open the door? Would she slam it shut the moment she saw me? No. I had to see her. I had to know. My knuckles rapped against the wood, sharp and deliberate. Silence. Then, the sound of her footsteps approaching, hesitant but steady. The door creaked open, and there she was. My breath caught—or it would have, had I needed to breathe. She stared at me, her eyes wide with confusion, her lips parting as if to speak but no sound escaping. I drank in the sight of her, every detail more vivid than I'd ever imagined. And then, finally, she spoke. "Can I help you?" Her voice was softer than I'd expected, but it held a note of caution. I didn't respond immediately. How could I? What words could convey everything I'd felt, everything I wanted to say? So, I simply stared, hoping she would see me, truly see me, beyond the monster. But the monster was all I saw reflected in her eyes when realisation dawned. "You..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "You've been following me." It wasn't a question. I nodded, the weight of her words pressing down on me like a shroud. Her hand tightened on the doorknob, and I could see the fear blooming in her gaze. "I'm not here to hurt you," I said, my voice low, almost pleading. "Then why are you here?" she demanded her tone sharper now. The truth burned on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't say it. Not yet. Instead, I stepped back, the rain washing over me as I retreated into the night. But I would return. She knew it. And so did I.

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The Shattered Reflection [Part 2]

Requested by: @catlove83

Y/N found solace in Jungkook's apartment. The familiar scent of coffee and the warmth of the living room filled her with a sense of peace she hadn't felt in a long time. Jungkook, ever the gentle giant, was there for her, offering a listening ear and a comforting presence. "You don't have to pretend to be okay, Y/N," Jungkook said, his voice soft. "It's okay to not be okay." She nodded, her eyes welling up with tears. "I just feel so lost, Jungkook, I don't know who I am anymore." Jungkook pulled her into a warm embrace. "You're strong, Y/N. Stronger than you think. And you'll find your way back."

Over the next few days, Y/N slowly began to heal. She spent her time reading, writing in her journal, and simply enjoying the quiet moments. Jungkook was always there, checking in on her, making sure she was eating and sleeping. Meanwhile, Chan was frantic. He'd called Y/N countless times, texted her, even showed up at her apartment, but she'd ignored him. He knew he'd messed up big time, and he was desperate to make things right. His desperation led him to Jungkook's apartment. He knocked on the door, his heart pounding with a mixture of hope and fear. Jungkook answered, his expression cold and uninviting. "What do you want, Chan?" Jungkook asked, his voice laced with disdain. "I need to talk to Y/N," Chan pleaded. "Please, just let me talk to her." "She doesn't want to talk to you, Chan," Jungkook said firmly. "You've hurt her deeply, and she needs time to heal." Chan's eyes filled with tears. "I know, I know. I messed up. But I love her, Jungkook. I can't lose her." "Love isn't enough, Chan," Jungkook said, his voice hardening. "Actions speak louder than words. You've shown Y/N that you don't respect her, that you don't value her. You've broken her trust, and that's something that can't be easily fixed."

Chan's heart sank. He knew Jungkook was right. He'd been selfish and thoughtless, and now he was paying the price. "Please, Jungkook," he begged. "Just give me a chance to make things right." Jungkook hesitated, his gaze softening. He knew Y/N still cared for Chan, but he also knew that she needed time to heal. "I'll give you one chance," he said, "but if you hurt her again, I won't hesitate to intervene." Chan nodded, his heart filled with gratitude. He knew he had a long way to go to regain Y/N's trust, but he was determined to do whatever it took.

When Y/N finally agreed to meet with Chan, it was at a small café near her apartment. The atmosphere was tense, the silence between them heavy with unspoken words. "I'm sorry, Y/N," Chan began, his voice barely a whisper. "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm begging you to give me another chance." Y/N looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and anger. "You say you're sorry, but your actions don't match your words," she said. "You've hurt me deeply, Chan. And I don't know if I can ever forgive you." Chan's heart ached. He knew he had to do something drastic to prove his love for her. "I'll do whatever it takes," he said, his voice firm. "I'll change, I promise."

Y/N was skeptical. She'd heard those words before. But something in his eyes, a flicker of sincerity, made her hesitate. "I need proof, Chan," she said. "I need to see real change." Chan nodded, determined. "I'll prove it to you, Y/N. I'll show you that I'm serious about changing."

As the days turned into weeks, Chan worked hard to prove himself. He was attentive, considerate, and supportive. He listened to Y/N's needs and respected her boundaries. Slowly but surely, Y/N began to soften. She started to see the man she had fallen in love with, the man who had been buried beneath layers of selfishness and control. One evening, as they sat on the couch, watching a movie, Chan took Y/N's hand. "I know I don't deserve you, Y/N," he said. "But I'm so grateful for another chance. I promise to cherish you and love you unconditionally." Y/N smiled, her heart filled with a warmth she hadn't felt in a long time. "I'm starting to believe you, Chan," she said. "But don't you ever forget, I won't hesitate to walk away if you hurt me again."

Chan nodded, his eyes filled with love and determination. "I understand," he said. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep you." As they sat there, hand in hand, Y/N felt a sense of hope. Perhaps there was still a chance for them, a chance to rebuild their love and create a future together.

As Y/N and Chan navigated the delicate balance between forgiveness and trust, they began to rebuild their relationship. Chan was more attentive than ever, eager to make up for lost time. He surprised Y/N with thoughtful gifts, planned romantic dates, and genuinely listened to her. However, the scars of the past were deep, and Y/N remained cautious. She was wary of falling back into old patterns, of letting Chan's charm and manipulation blind her to his true intentions. One evening, as they were having dinner, Y/N brought up the topic of trust. "I'm trying to trust you, Chan," she said, her voice soft. "But it's hard. I'm afraid of getting hurt again." Chan took her hand. "I understand," he said. "I know I've broken your trust, and it will take time to rebuild it. But I promise to be patient and understanding." "I need to feel safe," Y/N said. "I need to know that you're committed to changing." Chan nodded solemnly. "I'm committed to you, Y/N. I'm committed to us."

Over the following months, Chan continued to prove himself. He attended therapy sessions, working to address his underlying issues. He also involved himself in Y/N's life, supporting her career goals and spending quality time with her friends and family. Y/N, in turn, began to open up to Chan, sharing her fears, hopes, and dreams. She found herself falling in love with him again, but this time, it was a different kind of love. It was a love based on trust, respect, and mutual understanding. However, their journey was not without its challenges. Old habits die hard, and there were moments when Chan's possessive tendencies resurfaced. Y/N would gently remind him of his promises, and he would apologize, vowing to do better.

As their relationship deepened, Y/N realized that true love is not about perfection. It's about accepting each other's flaws, learning from mistakes, and growing together. She understood that Chan was still on his journey, and she was willing to be patient and supportive. With each passing day, Y/N felt stronger, more confident, and more in control of her own destiny. She had learned a valuable lesson about love, loss, and the power of forgiveness. And as she looked to the future, she felt a sense of hope and optimism that she hadn't felt in a long time.

[therandompagesblog]

Her Soul for His Soul

Summary: What happens when a university student accidentally summons a demon in the middle of her accommodation. Will the demon protect or consume her and her pretty little soul after the spirits want to hijack her body.

This fanfiction may include distressing themes so please read with caution. MDNI All rights belong to the author. I own the created characters and plots to make this fanfiction. The themes DO NOT REPRESENT the real people. It is a dark romance themed fanfic!

⚠️ Demon, Mentions of Assault, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Torture, Mentions of Rapists, Mentions of Murderer, Misogyny, Anxiety, Depression, Angst, Fluff, Possessive, Cursing, Pet Names, Humiliation, Kinks, Gaslighting, Sexism, Dom/Sub dynamics, Foreplay, Begging, Witchcraft, Ghosts, Spirits, Horror and SMUTT⚠️

✨🔮🌙

Masterlist

Chapter 1 (release 24/12/2024 at 00:00)

Chapter 2 (release 25/12/2024 at 00:00)

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@silentreadersthings @ihrtlix @galaxy4489 @catlove83 @reallychaoticwoo @leezanetheofficial @linocz @hyunmikim @eastjonowhere @skzdreamer13 @mavischerry @kiaralynn3838 @jellyleggz @mihoonz

[therandompagesblog]

Could you please do a fallen angel jeongin × reader oneshot?(it can be smut but obvs if you dont want to its fine🫶)

I hope you like it! I completely forgot about smut 🤦🏼‍♀️ I hope you enjoy it!!

The Fallen Angel

Summary: What happens when Y/N gets given a guardian angel but he is not what he seems to be. He is more mischievous. More seductive than an angel from God.

Rain lashed against the windows of Y/N's tiny apartment, mirroring the storm brewing inside her. Another day, another disastrous attempt at baking. This time, it was a chocolate cake, a pathetic, burnt offering that now adorned the counter, a monument to her culinary ineptitude. Frustration gnawed at her. Why couldn't she even bake a simple cake? She slumped onto the worn-out sofa, the scent of burnt sugar filling the air. Maybe she should just order takeout. Pizza sounded divine right now. As she reached for her phone, a strange sensation washed over her, a tingling warmth spreading through her veins. The air in the room seemed to thicken, the rain outside suddenly muted. Then, he appeared. Standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the stormy backdrop, was the most breathtaking man Y/N had ever seen. Tall and lean, with hair the colour of midnight and eyes that shimmered like polished obsidian, he exuded an aura of otherworldly grace. He smiled, a slow, captivating curve of his lips that sent a jolt of unexpected heat through her. "Hello, Y/N," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate deep within her. "I believe you've been expecting me." Y/N, speechless, could only stare.

Expecting him? Who was he? And how did he know her name? "I am your guardian angel," he explained, stepping further into the apartment. "Sent from above to guide you, to protect you." Guardian angel? Y/N blinked, bewildered. "But... guardian angels... aren't they supposed to be... you know, old and bearded?" He chuckled a low, melodic sound that made her knees weak. "Not always. Sometimes, they come in more... unexpected packages." He moved closer, his gaze intense, and Y/N felt a strange pull towards him, a magnetic force that defied logic. His presence filled the small apartment, pushing out the stale air and the scent of burnt cake. "Come," he urged, gesturing towards the sofa. "Let's talk." Hesitantly, Y/N moved to the sofa, the stranger following close behind. As he sat beside her, the air between them crackled with an unseen energy. Y/N, usually so clumsy and awkward, found herself strangely mesmerised by him, her usual insecurities forgotten. "What's your name?" she finally managed to ask, her voice a mere whisper. He leaned closer, his breath warm on her cheek. "Jeongin." The name, like him, was both exotic and alluring. Y/N felt a shiver crawl down her spine, a sensation that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. Jeongin smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Now, tell me, Y/N," he said, his voice dropping to a seductive purr, "what kind of trouble have you been getting into lately?" Y/N, completely flustered, could only stammer, "I... I burnt a cake." Jeongin threw his head back and laughed, a sound that was both playful and deeply unsettling. "Oh, Y/N," he said, his gaze fixed on her, "I think you're about to discover that burning cakes is the least of your worries." Jeongin's laughter, a low, melodious rumble, sent shivers down Y/N's spine. It was unlike any sound she'd ever heard, a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something... predatory. She felt a strange thrill course through her, a mixture of fear and excitement she couldn't quite explain. "Burning cakes is the least of your worries?" she repeated, her voice trembling slightly. Jeongin leaned closer, his gaze intense. "You have a soul, Y/N," he murmured, his voice a silken caress. "A beautiful, vibrant soul, yearning to break free from the mundane." His words sent a jolt of unexpected heat through her. Mundane? Was that how she lived her life? In a haze of routine, of missed opportunities? The thought was both unsettling and strangely liberating.

As the weeks turned into months, Y/N's life became a whirlwind of forbidden pleasures. She lived for Jeongin's touch, for the intoxicating thrill of their encounters. She abandoned her responsibilities, her focus solely on pleasing him, on exploring the depths of her newfound desires. Yet, beneath the surface of her exhilaration, a nagging doubt lingered. There was something unsettling about Jeongin, something that didn't quite add up. He was too perfect, too enigmatic. His eyes, when they caught the light, sometimes seemed to glow with an unnatural luminescence. One evening, as they were leaving a dimly lit bar, a sudden gust of wind whipped through the alleyway, extinguishing the flickering gas lamp. Y/N, startled, stumbled against Jeongin. As she reached out to steady herself, her fingers brushed against his cheek. To her astonishment, she felt something hard and smooth beneath his skin, something that shouldn't be there. It was like... feathers, she thought, though that couldn't be right. Jeongin, startled, pulled away, his eyes widening. "Y/N," he said, his voice a low growl, "what did you feel?" Y/N, confused and frightened, stammered, "I... I don't know. It felt... strange." Jeongin's eyes narrowed. "Forget about it," he said, his voice hardening. "It was nothing." But Y/N couldn't forget. The incident had planted a seed of doubt in her mind. Who was Jeongin really? What was he hiding.

Over the next few days, Jeongin became more distant, more possessive. He insisted on spending every waking moment with her, his jealousy flaring whenever she even glanced at another man. He became increasingly demanding, his touch turning from passionate to possessive. One night, as they lay entwined in her bed, Y/N felt a strange energy emanating from him, a pulsating warmth that seemed to emanate from deep within his chest. She reached out, her fingers tracing the contours of his chest. Suddenly, he stiffened, his body rigid. He pushed her hand away, his eyes filled with a strange, unsettling light. "Don't touch me," he hissed, his voice a venomous whisper. Y/N, startled, pulled back. "Jeongin, what's wrong?" He looked at her, his eyes burning with an intensity that made her blood run cold. "You're too curious, Y/N," he growled. "You're starting to ask too many questions." Fear, cold and clammy, gripped her heart. She knew, with a certainty that chilled her to the bone, that she had crossed a line.

The next morning, as Y/N lay sleeping, she felt a strange sensation, a tingling warmth that spread through the room. She opened her eyes to see Jeongin standing by the window, the morning light illuminating his figure. But it wasn't Jeongin. Standing before her was not the man she had come to know, the man with the mesmerising eyes and the voice that sent shivers down her spine. Instead, she saw... something else. A being of pure, incandescent light, its form shifting and shimmering, wings of the purest white unfolding behind it. The creature turned, its gaze falling upon Y/N. And then, she saw them. Eyes, luminous and golden, filled with a power that made her gasp. Eyes that held a thousand years of wisdom, of sorrow, of... sin. The creature smiled, a slow, predatory curve of its lips that sent a jolt of terror through Y/N. "Good morning, my dear," it purred, its voice a low, melodious rumble that seemed to vibrate deep within her bones. "It's time for you to learn the truth." Y/N, paralysed with fear, could only stare. The creature moved towards her, its movements fluid and graceful despite its imposing size. As it drew closer, Y/N could see the intricate details of its form – the delicate tracery of its wings, the shimmering scales that covered its skin.

"You've been a good student, Y/N," the creature continued, its voice a silken caress. "You've embraced the darkness, you've tasted the forbidden fruit." Y/N, her voice trembling, whispered, "Who... who are you?" The creature chuckled, a low, melodious sound that sent shivers down her spine. "I am what you thought I was," it replied, its voice a silken caress. "An angel. But not the kind you were expecting." Y/N felt a wave of nausea wash over her. "An angel?" she whispered, her voice barely a whisper. "But... but you're not..." The creature smiled, a slow, predatory curve of its lips. "I am a fallen angel, Y/N," it confessed, its voice dropping to a seductive purr. "Banished from heaven for my disobedience, for my... indulgences." Y/N felt a cold dread creeping into her bones. "Indulgences?" she whispered, her voice trembling. The fallen angel leaned closer, its gaze intense. "I have always enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh," it murmured, its voice a silken caress. "The forbidden fruits, the intoxicating sins." It reached out, its fingers brushing against Y/N's cheek, sending a jolt of static electricity through her. She wanted to pull away, to scream, but she was frozen with fear. "You were an interesting experiment," the fallen angel continued, its voice a low growl. "A pure soul, ripe for the picking." "Y/N felt a wave of nausea wash over her. "You... you used me?" she whispered, her voice barely a whisper. The fallen angel smiled, a slow, predatory curve of its lips. "Of course," it admitted, its voice a silken caress. "You were the perfect vessel for my amusement." Y/N felt a surge of anger, a burning rage that threatened to consume her. She had been played, manipulated, used for the amusement of a fallen angel. "Why?" she demanded, her voice trembling with fury. "Why did you do this to me?" The fallen angel leaned closer, its gaze intense. "Because you intrigued me, Y/N," it murmured, its voice a silken caress. "You were a challenge, a puzzle to be solved." It leaned closer, its breath warm on her cheek. "And now, the game is over," it whispered, its voice dropping to a seductive purr. "It's time for the next stage."

Y/N felt a cold dread creeping into her bones. What did it mean? What was the next stage? The fallen angel smiled, a slow, predatory curve of its lips. "You will join me, Y/N," it whispered, its voice a silken caress. "In the depths of the abyss, where pleasure knows no bounds." Y/N, terrified, tried to scramble back, but the fallen angel was too quick. It reached out, its long, skeletal fingers wrapping around her wrists. "No!" she screamed, her voice filled with terror. "Let me go!" But it was too late. The fallen angel pulled her close, its embrace suffocating, its touch burning like fire. Y/N, her vision blurring, saw the world around her twist and distort, the colours bleeding together in a chaotic swirl. Then, darkness.

[therandompagesblog]

UNDERWORLD STAND-ALONE SERIES OF BOOKS

Her Soul For His Soul: Release Date 24/12/24

Summary: What happens when a university student accidentally summons a demon in the middle of her accommodation. Will the demon protect or consume her and her pretty little soul after the spirits want to hijack her body?

Death Does Not Part Us: Release Date 14/02/25

Summary: People think death is a curse but it’s actually a blessing. You’re being reunited with your loved ones, once again, but what if death is postponed for you? What if your near-death experience allows you to meet the Grim Reaper, who decides he has other plans for your soul. What then?!

This fanfiction may include distressing themes so please read with caution. MDNI All rights belong to the author. I own the created characters and plots to make this fanfiction. The themes DO NOT REPRESENT the real people. It is a dark romance-themed fanfic!

⚠️ Demon, Mentions of Assault, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Torture, Mentions of Rapists, Mentions of Murderer, Misogyny, Anxiety, Depression, Angst, Fluff, Possessive, Cursing, Pet Names, Humiliation, Kinks, Gaslighting, Sexism, Dom/Sub dynamics, Foreplay, Begging, Witchcraft, Ghosts, Spirits, Horror and SMUTT⚠️

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@silentreadersthings @ihrtlix @galaxy4489 @catlove83 @reallychaoticwoo @leezanetheofficial @linocz @hyunmikim @eastjonowhere @skzdreamer13 @mavischerry

[therandompagesblog]

The Shattered Reflection [Part 1]

Summary: Y/N discovers her seemingly perfect boyfriend, Chan, is cheating on her. The revelation shatters her world, leaving her confused, betrayed her relieved.

Request by: @catlove83

The silence in the apartment was deafening. Y/N held her breath, heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She'd been so caught up in the melody of the rain lashing against the windows that she hadn't heard the front door creak open. Now, the only sound was the erratic thump of her own pulse. Peeking through the narrow gap between the living room curtains, she saw him. Chan, her Chan, usually so meticulous in his movements, was awkwardly fumbling with his jacket, his face buried in the collar. He was with her. A woman.

Y/N felt a wave of nausea wash over her. The woman, with her laughter echoing through the apartment, had her arms wrapped around Chan's waist, her head tilted back as she whispered something into his ear. He chuckled, the sound a jarring contrast to the icy dread that gripped Y/N's insides. Her vision blurred with unshed tears. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be her Chan, the Chan who whispered sweet nothings in her ear, who promised her forever, who... who had carved her initials into the trunk of their favorite oak tree, vowing to protect her from the world. A sob escaped her lips, strangled and raw. The woman looked up, startled, her eyes widening in alarm. Chan turned, his smile vanishing as he saw Y/N standing there, a tragic figure silhouetted against the rain-streaked window.

The air thickened with unspoken accusations. The woman, her face a mixture of shock and fear, stumbled back, her eyes darting between Y/N and Chan. Chan, his gaze fixed on Y/N, took a hesitant step forward, his hand outstretched as if to reach out to her. "Y/N," he began, his voice rough with disbelief, "I can explain..." The words died in his throat. The look in Y/N's eyes, a mixture of hurt, betrayal, and a strange, unsettling relief, silenced him. It was a look he'd never seen before, a look that stripped away the carefully constructed facade of their perfect little world. Y/N felt a strange detachment wash over her. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion, the horror unfolding before her eyes, yet she couldn't seem to move, couldn't seem to process what she was seeing. The woman, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, scurried away, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor as she fled the scene. Chan, left alone with Y/N, looked utterly lost. He opened his mouth to speak again, but no sound came out. Y/N finally found her voice, her voice a mere whisper against the deafening roar of her own betrayal. "Explain?" she repeated, her voice laced with icy disdain. "Explain what, Chan? Explain how you could do this to me?" He took a step closer, his eyes pleading. "Y/N, I..." "Don't," she hissed, raising a trembling hand to silence him. "Don't you dare try to justify this. Don't you dare try to make me feel sorry for you." He flinched, his eyes widening in pain. "Y/N, I didn't mean for it to happen. It just... it just happened." "Happened?" Y/N scoffed, her voice rising. "It happened? You were kissing her, Chan! You were holding her like she mattered, like I didn't!" Tears streamed down her face, hot and stinging. She felt a strange sense of relief mingling with the pain, a sense of liberation she hadn't expected. All this time, she had been trapped in a gilded cage of his making, suffocating under the weight of his possessiveness, his suffocating love. He reached for her again, but she recoiled, her eyes wide with fear. "Don't touch me," she warned, her voice trembling. "Don't even think about it." Chan's face crumpled. He looked like a wounded animal, his eyes filled with a desperate plea. "Y/N, please," he begged, "don't let this ruin us. I love you. I love you more than anything in the world." "Love?" Y/N echoed, the word tasting like ashes in her mouth. "Is this what love looks like, Chan? Is this what it feels like to be loved by you?" He sank onto the sofa, his shoulders slumped. "I know," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I know I don't deserve you. I know I've messed up."

Y/N felt a flicker of pity for him, a fleeting moment of sympathy for the man who was now a stranger to her. But the pity was quickly overshadowed by a surge of anger. "You don't deserve me?" she scoffed. "You don't deserve anything, Chan. You don't deserve my forgiveness, you don't deserve my tears, you don't deserve to even look at me." She wanted to leave but she couldn't. Chan had started to sob. Baby sobs. It stopped Y/N instantly. She couldn't leave. Chan kissed her. She definitely couldn't leave. He was touching her. Softly. Gently. Removing his son but she could still taste the lipstick of that woman. Y/N tried to think of something else as Chan picked her up and took her over to the sofa. His hands running up and down her body as he cried. Apologising. Y/N allowed him in that moment to take her and thrust into her. She allowed him to consume her until he released. She allowed him to cuddle her until he fell asleep. But when he was asleep she knew it was time to go.

She turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing through the empty apartment. She didn't look back, didn't allow herself to see the despair etched on his face. She had to get out of there, had to escape the suffocating weight of his presence, had to breathe. As she reached the door, she paused, her hand hovering over the doorknob. A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she leaned against the wall for support. She was free. Or so she thought.

The rain continued to lash against the windows, mirroring the storm raging within her. Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the wall, her mind reeling from the events of the evening. She had spent the last few hours wandering aimlessly around the apartment, unable to process what had happened. Chan, true to his word, hadn't followed her. He had remained on the sofa, a pathetic figure consumed by his own guilt and despair. Y/N had considered leaving, had considered seeking refuge at her best friend, Liam's, apartment. But something held her back, a strange sense of paralysis, a fear of the unknown.

She knew she couldn't stay here, couldn't continue to live in this apartment, in this city, in this suffocating cage of his making. But the thought of leaving, of facing the world alone, terrified her. Chan had always taken care of everything. He had paid the bills, grocery shopped, even chosen her clothes. She had become so reliant on him, so accustomed to his constant presence, that she didn't know how to function independently. The silence in the apartment was deafening. The only sound was the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the nightstand, each tick a hammer blow against her fragile resolve. She felt a wave of dizziness wash over her, and she closed her eyes, trying to shut out the world. Suddenly, a memory surfaced, a vivid memory of Jungkook's warm smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he listened to her rant about Chan's latest controlling behavior. Jungkook, always the voice of reason, the one who always saw through Chan's facade. Jungkook.

The thought of Jungkook brought a flicker of warmth to her chest. He would listen, he would understand. He would offer her a shoulder to cry on, a safe haven from the storm that was raging within her. A decision began to form in her mind, a seed of defiance taking root in the fertile ground of her despair. She wouldn't let Chan control her any longer. She wouldn't let him dictate her life, her happiness. She glanced at the clock. It was late, past midnight. But she couldn't stay here any longer. She had to get out, had to escape the suffocating grip of this nightmare. With a trembling hand, she reached for her backpack, her fingers tracing the familiar contours of the worn leather. She packed a few essentials: a change of clothes, her phone, her wallet, and a small first-aid kit. She paused, her gaze falling on the framed photograph on her nightstand. It was a picture of her and Chan, taken on their first anniversary. They were laughing, their faces filled with a joy that now seemed like a distant memory.

A single tear rolled down her cheek, tracing a path through the dust on her skin. She gently placed the photograph face down on the nightstand, then turned and walked towards the door. She wouldn't look back. She wouldn't allow herself to be drawn back into the vortex of his despair. She was leaving. With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped out into the night, the rain washing over her as she slipped into the shadows, leaving behind the ghost of a love that had long since died.

[therandompagesblog]

After seeing channie on the horse in walkin on water mv! i’d love to see them do horse riding together!! i particularly believe lee know will be good at riding due to his strong legs and core!

Honestly I can seeeeeeeee ittttttt 💕💕💕

[therandompagesblog]

100 Years Older Part 2

Summary: Y/N a young woman fascinated by gothic romance, begins her studies at Oxford University. She encounters a mysterious and alluring young man named Minho. As their friendship deepens, Y/N becomes incredibly drawn to Minho’s enigmatic personality and dark secrets.

Part 1 [found here]

Y/N, mesmerised, watched him play the violin. The music was haunting, beautiful, and strangely familiar. As he finished, he looked up, his eyes meeting hers. A slow smile spread across his lips. He was expecting her. "You followed," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "I couldn't stay away," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. A slow, enigmatic smile spread across his lips. "You're drawn to the darkness, aren't you?" Y/N nodded, her heart pounding. "I am." "Then you've come to the right place," he said, his voice laced with a hint of danger. As the days turned into weeks, Y/N found herself increasingly drawn to Minho. His enigmatic nature, his dark, brooding beauty, and his undeniable intelligence captivated her. She yearned to understand him, to unravel the mysteries that lay beneath his icy exterior.

One evening, as they walked along the river Thames, the moon casting its silvery glow upon the water, Minho stopped abruptly. "You're falling for me, aren't you?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. He found it quite amusing. Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "I... I don't know," she stammered. He chuckled, a cold, mirthless sound. "Don't deny it, Y/N. Your eyes betray you. So does your heart." "But..." she began, unsure of how to continue. "But what?" he asked, his voice sharp. "Do you know what you're getting yourself into?" "I don't care," she replied, her voice filled with defiance. "I want to be with you." Minho's eyes darkened, a storm brewing within them. "You don't understand," he warned. "I'm not like other people. I'm dangerous, unpredictable, and capable of things you can't even imagine." Y/N, undeterred, met his gaze. "I'm not afraid," she said. "I trust you." A flicker of surprise, perhaps even admiration, flashed across his face. "Trust is a dangerous game, Y/N," he said, his voice low. "It can lead to heartbreak and despair." Despite his warnings, Y/N's feelings for Minho grew stronger. She was drawn to his darkness, his intensity, his enigmatic nature. She saw the man beneath the monster, the sensitive soul hidden beneath the icy exterior.

One night, under the inky blackness of the Oxford sky, Minho pulled her close, his lips brushing against hers. A jolt of electricity coursed through her veins. His kiss was a whirlwind of passion and danger, a taste of the forbidden. "You're mine now," he whispered, his voice a low growl. Y/N, lost in the moment, could only nod. She was his, body and soul. However, as their relationship deepened, so did the dangers. Y/N began to experience strange occurrences, inexplicable visions, and a growing sense of unease. She realized that Minho's world was far more perilous than she had ever imagined. One fateful night, as they explored an ancient crypt, they were attacked by a creature of darkness, a creature that seemed to be drawn to Minho's power. In the ensuing chaos, Y/N was injured, her life hanging by a thread. Minho, fueled by a primal rage, confronted the creature, a battle of ancient forces that shook the very foundations of the crypt. The air crackled with dark energy as they fought, their clash echoing through the silent corridors.

In the end, Minho emerged victorious, but at a great cost. The creature had inflicted a deep wound, a wound that threatened to consume him. As he held Y/N in his arms, his strength waning, he confessed his darkest secret. He was not merely a vampire, but a creature of ancient evil, a being born of darkness.        Y/N, her heart heavy with sorrow, knew that she had to make a choice. She could choose love, a love that could consume her, or she could choose life, a life without the man she loved.

      As the dawn approached, casting its first rays of light upon the ancient crypt, Y/N made her decision. She chose life, a life filled with hope and the promise of a future. With a heavy heart, she said goodbye to Minho, leaving him to his eternal darkness.        As she walked away, she turned one last time to look at him. He stood there, a solitary figure against the backdrop of the rising sun, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and despair. She knew that she would never forget him, the man who had stolen her heart and shattered her world.       In the aftermath of her encounter with Minho, Y/N struggled to return to her normal life. The memories of their time together haunted her, a bittersweet reminder of a love that could never be. She found solace in her studies, pouring her heart and soul into her academic pursuits.       However, the darkness that had once threatened to consume her had left its mark. She was no longer the same innocent girl who had arrived at Oxford. She had seen the true face of evil, the depths of human depravity. Yet, she had also witnessed the power of love, the strength of the human spirit.

      As the years passed, Y/N continued to grow and evolve. She became a renowned scholar, a brilliant mind with a deep understanding of the human condition. She never forgot Minho, the enigmatic vampire who had changed her life forever. But she also learned to let go, to move on, to embrace the future.       And so, the story of Y/N and Minho, a tale of love, loss, and the eternal struggle between light and darkness, continued to echo through the ages, a haunting reminder of the power of love and the fragility of the human heart.

[therandompagesblog]

Hi Guys -> update + chat to me

Hi Guys 👋

All REQUESTS are ready to publish when TUMBLR lets me 😭

I have burnt myself out again as I have to do two masters essays which are 3000 research questions and one I am massively struggling with! It’s hard to be writer and a student and I feel I am sick of typing like it makes me sick so I’m gonna do 24 hours of nothing.

Also say hello to me in the comments or requests and let’s have a chat 🤍 you guys are the reason I exist

[therandompagesblog]

Honestly this should be cherished!!!! It’s a series of books 🤍

SKZ MATE SERIES OF BOOKS

Summary: Here you will find a pack of wolves called Straykids who go through a series of hardships with their mated omega Y/N! It doesn't start in the best way but it may not end the way you want it to either.

Warnings

This fanfiction may include distressing themes so please read with caution. MDNI All rights belong to the author. I own the created characters and plots to make this fanfiction. The themes DO NOT REPRESENT the real people. It is a dark romance themed fanfic!

⚠️ Omegaverse, A/B/O, Marking, Biting, Mating, Blood play, Mentions of Assault, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Torture, VERY SMUTTY, Misogyny, Anxiety, Depression, Angst, Fluff, M/M/F, Possessive SKZ, Cursing, Pet Names, Humiliation, Kinks, Gaslighting, Sexism, Dom/Sub dynamics, Threesome, Foreplay, Begging, and more⚠️

💫🐺🌙

Characters and Cast list can be found HERE (will not update this)

Book 1: SKZ Mate

Summary: Going from one werewolf pack to another. There's no turning back now, not when you know what you left behind. A dangerous situation is now replaced with something less sinister. Can Y/N learn to trust another group of werewolves?

Book 2: SKZ Pack

Summary: Now that Ateez has been destroyed Chan and his pack have become closer than ever. The wolves have gotten stronger and have gotten more powerful since they have bonded with their omega, but there is something darker still left to emerge. An old problem has started to resurface and will all the wolves make it out alive this time.

Book 3: SKZ Love

Summary: What happens when two little pups called Lucas and Moon accidentally summon something in the depths of the night. Can they stop it before it gets worse. Join the adventure of the little wolves who are getting into trouble with their fathers constantly.

💫🐺🌙

Feeling Inspired by my fanfiction. Go ahead and write your own. Any ideas, concepts or themes used please credit me accordingly© If you are unsure message me, I definitely do not bite 💙 IF YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT STEALING MY WORK 🔪🩸 + 🔮🪄 = 🐺🩸🌙

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@galaxy4489 @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @leezanetheofficial @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @linocz @itzreetal987 @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @liv1sworld @upsidedownchaire @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @ihttinniee @kingdomofpentagon @pixie0627 @tsunderelino @notevenheretbh1 @catlove83 @h0rnyp0t @hash2013 @hyunmikim

[therandompagesblog]

Guess I’m not posting today 😤 why does Tumblr do this!!!!!

[therandompagesblog]

Does anyone else hate when you COPY AND PASTE from your phone and TUMBLR messes up the organisation of it all! FUMING!!

[therandompagesblog]

Hello💗 may I have a request for a fic or something i feel like it’s on par with your ideas😁!

Perhaps a vampire!minho trope in which YN has a "romantic" idea or fascination with vampires and is enamoured with vampire-related fiction.

students are all adult, kinda like a uni

At the start of term, a new student (Minho) arrives for main course of dance studies or something along those lines, but also having common classes like english and maths so they have interaction.

They had to discuss a book that they like in a presentation-like style infront of the class in English for their project, and naturally, YN talks about vampires—clearly thinking they're not real and just made up! Minho instantly perks his head up at the mention, and ever since, Minho makes fun/teases her for it, saying that the conception of a vampire isn't always romantic and that it's a LOT more than that. Which is funny cause he’s literally walking sex (a vampire) But, For example, he explains idk like biting during ..yk.. is a lot more connection building than people thing etc! and obviously, yn is like whaaaat are you on about, but in reality he’s a vampire himself, a strong one at that (lowkey a person body guard hehe)

i hope all this makes sense, and if you choose to write it (which you’re not entitled too, i won’t mind🥹), you can add your own twist or idea! it was just a thing that popped into my head💚

- enemies-to-lover situation!

I’m sorry this took FOREVER!!!! You have waited nearly a whole ass month for this. If you like this I will continue this for you 🤍

100 Years Older

The cobblestones of Oxford shimmered beneath the muted October sun, reflecting the vibrant hues of autumn leaves carpeting the ground. Y/N, a whirlwind of nervous energy and misplaced gothic romance, navigated the labyrinthine streets, her suitcase bumping against her leg. She'd finally arrived at the hallowed halls of Oxford University, a dream realised. Her heart, however, beat not for the prospect of academic glory, but for the whispered legends of the city, of ancient stones imbued with secrets, and of the elusive creatures of the night.

Her fascination with the gothic, particularly with vampires, bordered on the obsessive. Dracula, with his aristocratic charm and tragic allure, held a particular grip on her imagination. She saw not a monster, but a misunderstood soul, a creature of the night yearning for connection, albeit in a rather unconventional way.

Her first lecture, a seminar on Bram Stoker's Dracula, was a whirlwind of professorial pronouncements and student murmurs. She found herself seated beside a young man, his gaze fixed on the floor, an air of quiet intensity surrounding him. He had an almost unsettling stillness about him, a pale complexion that seemed to absorb the light, and eyes, when he finally looked up, that was the colour of a stormy sea.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

Y/N, startled, turned to him. "Absolutely! Though I must confess, I find myself somewhat...sympathetic to Dracula."

He raised an eyebrow, a slow smile curving his lips. "Sympathetic? To a bloodsucking fiend?"

"He's misunderstood!" she exclaimed, "A creature of the night, yearning for connection, for love, even if it's in his own twisted way."

He chuckled, a low, melodious sound that seemed to vibrate through her. "Love? Dracula? My dear, I think you've been reading too many late-night romances."

"But think about it," she insisted, "He's a creature of legend, a force of nature. There's a certain...romance to it, don't you think? The forbidden, the allure of the unknown."

 He leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling amusement. "Romance, you say? There's a lot more to it than that, you know."

Y/N, flustered, felt a blush creep up her neck. "More to what?"

He smirked, his gaze lingering on her lips. "Biting, for example. It's not just about feeding, you know. It's about...connection. A bond."

Y/N, completely bewildered, could only stare at him, her mind reeling. What on earth was he talking about?

Over the next few weeks, Minho, as she learned his name, became a constant source of both amusement and bewilderment. He would tease her relentlessly about her vampire obsession, his comments laced with a knowing glint in his eyes that she couldn't quite decipher.

"You know," he'd say, as they walked through the ancient university grounds, "true romance isn't about flowery prose and moonlit serenades. It's about...passion. Intensity."

"Passion? Intensity?" she'd echo, feeling a strange heat creeping up her neck.

He'd simply smile, that enigmatic smile that seemed to hold a thousand secrets. "You'll understand someday," he'd assure her, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.

 Their assigned essay, a critical analysis of Dracula's evil, proved to be a point of contention. While Y/N struggled to reconcile her romantic notions with the novel's depiction of Dracula as a monstrous predator, Minho seemed to find a perverse amusement in her attempts.

"You see," he'd say, leaning closer, his breath warm on her cheek, "evil is subjective. It's all about perspective."

Y/N, feeling a strange flutter in her stomach, would find herself captivated by his nearness, by the intensity of his gaze. His words, though cryptic, seemed to hold a hidden meaning, a deeper layer of understanding that she yearned to unravel.

One evening, as they debated the merits of Van Helsing's methods, Minho surprised her. "You know," he said, his voice unusually serious, "you see the world in shades of gray. You don't just see black and white."

Y/N, intrigued, looked at him. "What do you mean?"

He leaned closer, his eyes searching hers. "Most people see Dracula as purely evil. But you...you see the complexity, the tragedy. You see the yearning beneath the monstrous."

Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck. "I suppose so."

He smiled, a genuine smile that warmed his eyes. "That's what makes you different, Y/N. You see the beauty in the shadows."

The compliment, unexpected and genuine, left her breathless. She found herself drawn to him, not just because of his teasing, but because of the glimpses she caught of the thoughtful, insightful man beneath the playful facade.

 As the weeks turned into months, their connection deepened. They would spend hours debating literature, philosophy, and life, often late into the night in the dimly lit library. Minho, a voracious reader himself, would challenge her assumptions, push her to think critically, to question her own beliefs. He would quote obscure poets, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through her.

 One evening, as they discussed the concept of forbidden love, Minho leaned closer, his eyes gleaming in the firelight.

"Forbidden love," he mused, "is often the most intoxicating."

Y/N, feeling a strange flutter in her stomach, felt a thrill course through her. "Why do you say that?"

He smiled, that slow, predatory smile that always sent shivers down her spine. "Because it's a dance on the edge, a constant push and pull between desire and danger."

He leaned closer still, his breath warm on her cheek. "It's about the thrill of the unknown, the allure of the forbidden."

Y/N, mesmerized, could only stare at him, her breath catching in her throat. His words, his nearness, were intoxicating. She felt a strange pull towards him, a yearning she couldn't quite explain.

He reached out and gently traced the outline of her lips with his finger, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her.

"You," he whispered, his voice husky, "are the most forbidden thing I've ever encountered."

Y/N, her heart pounding, felt a thrill course through her. She wanted to lean into his touch, to explore the intensity of his gaze, but something held her back. A strange sense of unease, a whisper of danger in the air.

He leaned back, his eyes holding a mischievous glint. "But you know," he said, his voice a low growl, "there are some shadows you're not prepared to face."

He reached out and gently traced the outline of her lips with his finger, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her.

"Because," he whispered, his voice a chilling caress, "some shadows are more dangerous than you can possibly imagine."

He leaned back, his eyes gleaming in the firelight, a predatory glint in their depths.

"I am," he said, his voice a low growl, "a shadow, Y/N."

Y/N, her heart pounding like a drum, felt a shiver crawl down her spine. She wanted to believe him, to deny him, to run. But something held her captive, a strange fascination with the danger that simmered beneath the surface.

"What does that mean?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

He smiled, a slow, predatory smile that seemed to devour her. "You'll find out," he said, his voice a low caress. "Soon."

He leaned closer again, his breath warm on her cheek. "But be warned," he whispered, his voice a chilling caress, "once you step into the shadows, there's no turning back."

He leaned back, his eyes gleaming in the firelight, a predatory glint in their depths.

"I am," he said, his voice a low growl, "a shadow, Y/N."

And with that, he vanished, leaving her alone in the hushed library, her heart pounding like a drum, her mind reeling from his words, his touch, his chilling revelation.

Days turned into weeks, and the image of Minho haunted her. His words echoed in her mind, his touch lingered on her skin. She found herself constantly searching for him, her eyes drawn to every shadowed corner of the university, every dimly lit alleyway.

One evening, while walking through the ancient cemetery, she stumbled upon a secluded mausoleum. As she approached, she heard a low, melodic sound, a haunting melody that seemed to emanate from within. Curiosity piqued, she cautiously pushed open the heavy iron gates.

Inside, bathed in the moonlight filtering through the stained-glass windows, she found Minho. He sat on a crumbling stone bench, his head bowed, a melancholic melody drifting from the violin he cradled in his hands.

Y/N, mesmerised, watched him play. The music was haunting, beautiful, and strangely familiar. As he finished, he looked up, his eyes meeting hers. A slow smile spread across his lips.

"You followed," he murmured, his voice a low rumble.