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holybibly · 5 months

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Object of Desire | OT8 |

Pairing: otx8 x reader

Genre: sugar daddy au, dark romance, smut, vampire au,

Word Count: 9.2 k

Summary: Caught in a web of deceit and forbidden pleasures, Nabi quickly learns that some obsessions can be deadly and love can bite.

WARNING: only!18+ Blood drinking, blood kink, obsessive behavior, voice kink, daddy kink, master/pet game, pet names, explicit sexual content, explicit language, emotional manipulation, possessive behavior, seduction, BDSM, polyamory, mirror sex, marking, voyeurism, power play, and more.

Disclaimer: I do not support themes of violence, obsession, possessiveness, or emotional or psychological manipulation. This book is intended for entertainment purposes only.

A/N: I honestly didn't expect so much interest in this story and I'm so happy to see these cute 'hearts' popping up in my notifications all the time. I'm an emotional mess. And so, even though I know I should be concentrating on "The Divine Rosa", there are too many other ideas in my head that I can't (won't) ignore, so here we go. "Object of Desire" will be different in style, so I hope you'll love it as much as my main work "The Divine Rosa". A promised bonus for everyone who voted for Seonghwa in the poll will be released this weekend. I'll try to release Woosan next week, the preview will be out this weekend. Comments are welcome, I really appreciate your reactions. If you'd like to be added to the tag list for this or future updates, let me know in the comments. Divider @saradika

Part 1. Do you want to make a deal with the Devil?

Now going out of town in the middle of the night with Yeonjun seemed like a bad idea.

A very bad one, I thought.

God, what was I thinking when I agreed to do this? Yesterday, this whole venture seemed like a great way to solve my problems, but now the prospect was not so rosy.

Sometimes I feel like a complete idiot, and this is one of those times.

Outside the window the dark landscape was sweeping by at high speed; the bare trees were shrouded in an ominous gloom, and only the dim light of the tall street lamps over the road was the only source of illumination to guide us in the darkness.

It seemed that the darkness around us did not stop Yeonjun from driving. His posture was relaxed and his hand was sure as he turned the wheel in the right direction, the diamond bracelet on his thin wrist sparkling with starlight. One of the many family jewels that Yeonjun treated with special affection.

In contrast to him, I couldn't relax and kept fidgeting on the leather seat made of black Iberian leather, no less.

Every part of my body was begging me to stop and come home before it was too late. Not so, I had imagined that we were going to an elite club. I knew that we would be there late at night, but the fact that the club was way out of town came as an unpleasant surprise.

At the moment it's an hour's drive from Seoul and more than an hour and a half to the destination on the GPS.

The whole thing was strange and made me dizzy, or was it the thick smell of Yeonjun's perfume? It was a dense, smoky scent with a hint of vanilla. Powerful enough to draw the eyes of everyone around to its source, and sexy enough to make you want to kiss the naked skin of the wearer of this tantalising scent.

It would be several days before I was able to wash off the remnants of his perfume after our meeting, so much of it had eaten its way into my skin.

I glanced at Yeonjun; a stray yellowish-white light from the lantern momentarily illuminated his face, and a shadow of long velvet eyelashes fell on his pale cheeks. His black raven hair was streaked with flashes of platinum and gold. He looked otherworldly - I would even say demonic.

I felt a palpable shiver run through my body, as if someone had just dipped my heart into a bucket of icy water.

"Jun." My voice was terribly uncertain. "I don't think I can do this." I said as my fingers pulled down the hem of a short dress. The expensive material looked luxurious in a perfect shade of white and was decorated with a sprinkling of crystals. Yeonjun insisted that I wear it tonight and said that I would be grateful for it as soon as we got to the club. I don't think I'd ever choose something like that for myself, and not just because of its crazy cost; Jun's fashion preferences were so different from mine. He was a fan of overt sexuality and bold lines; I, on the other hand, preferred neutrals and comfort. "I have changed my mind; this proposal does not suit me at all. Maybe we can go back..."

Yeonjun smiled softly as he turned to me, but in the darkness of the drawing room the smile was more ominous than reassuring, his lips the most breathtaking shade of red I had ever seen.

Warning bells began to ring in my head. There are times when you can sense danger even before you are faced with it.

"Nabi, my dear, there is nothing for you to be worried about. We have already discussed this. Remember?" His hand was cold as he laid it on my knee. "I will take care of everything. You're my guest tonight, which means you're under my protection." The long fingers shrank a little, a kind of confirmation of his words. His fingernails were painted glossy black, and his fingers were adorned with several silver rings.

I would like to believe that nothing is going to happen to me, but my insides are tied up in a tight knot of fear.

Miss Kim Seoyun's words echoed in my head like thunder: "Humble yourself and surrender to destiny; you are where you are supposed to be.

When did I start believing all this? This is no time to panic, Nabi.

Everything will be fine.

To be honest, Yeonjun was never my first choice when I needed help, and I always tried to keep a certain distance from him for a number of reasons. There was something so predatory about him, almost animalistic, that lit up the red lights of danger, but I was desperate; student loans, rent, insurance and food were starting to pile up. I was in desperate need of money, and preferably a lot of it, fast.

The threat of being left out on the streets and being thrown out of university has never been as real as it is now.

The only thing that gave me the slightest bit of confidence was Jimin's assurance that I could trust Yeonjun completely and how carefree he was.

Damn, Jun looked like we were going on a spontaneous romantic trip instead of a closed elite club outside the city in the middle of the night.

I asked myself again, "Why did I agree to this?" Oh yes, money. A lot of money.

A few days ago, Yeonjun contacted me and offered to help me with my money problem. Of course, Park Jimin couldn't keep his big mouth shut and told him about my problems. He told me that one of his friends at the private club had a good deal for me. I could make a lot of money out of it.

The income was enough to pay off all my debts and the number of zeros on offer was enough to turn my head.

It was an unequivocal and desperate "YES" and at that moment I did not think at all about the consequences or the characteristics of this proposal.

Jun also promised me a lot of fun but after I signed the NDA and read the multi-page contract with its veiled meaning and rather vague wording of some specific points, doubts blossomed in my chest, and I began to understand what kind of fun was being discussed.

Looks like I made a deal with the Devil.

The dress was delivered on the eve of our trip, a few hours before Yeonjun's chic Ferrari pulled up outside my dorm room. The all-white gown, richly embroidered with blue topaz and opal, was incredible. The plunging neckline of the corsage barely covered the lace bralet of the same colour as the dress.

I have never seen my breasts look so full and so soft. I would even call it seductive. Everything I moved had to be clean and graceful; if I moved too sharply, the soft pink halos of my nipples would start to show. This was beyond the limits of my modesty. At one point, I could even feel Yeonjun's searing gaze resting on my cleavage. It was a carnal look with a shadow of hidden lust in the depths of the dark, shining pupils. It was the first time in the several years of our dubiously friendly communication that he had shown such a desire for me.

The dress and underwear came with four-inch heels. Of course, if my life had been in danger and I had tried to escape, there would have been no chance of success. Incidentally, I'm a terrible runner; I bet I couldn't have run more than ten meters before I collapsed with breathlessness. I should have gone to the gym when Jimin offered it to me.

Oh my God, Nabi, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?

Jun's silky voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"You have such a tense look on your face, my darling." He purred. "We'll be there soon, Nabi. Try to relax; you're going to love "Crescent", I'm sure."

Why did it have such a sinister ring to it? "Crescent" - the name was sweet enough, I would say poetic, but the way Yeonjun rolled the word over his tongue as if he could feel its taste - thick and viscous - made the name something forbidden and sinful. Well, the idea of the cult was not so absurd to me. And that stupid prophecy never left my mind.

"You're where you should be..."

In the reflection of the small mirror in the car, I met my gaze. My pupils were dilated like those of a hunted prey. And though I tried to calm down, I could feel the cold, predatory touch of Yeonjun's hand all too well. Baby, it looks like you're going to get caught.

I ask myself again. Why did I find myself in this situation?

Dressed in the most luxurious designer clothes, like a real doll. Ready to become an exclusive blood donor for a very wealthy private community whose clients needed this kind of service, accompanied by one of Seoul's wealthiest heirs.

Now I can say: "Hey, Nabi, you really screwed up."

❤︎❤︎❤︎

A few days before the visit to "Crescent"

I looked again at the envelope lying on my bed. It had been delivered early in the morning, when the whole city was in a half-awake haze and the streets were not yet filled with coffee and fresh pastries from charming little cafes. The envelope was just left on the door, as if it were something unwanted, without bothering to deliver it to the to the addressee.

Why do we even pay for a delivery service?

He's been there for a couple of hours with the overdue bills and some flyers. I found him on my way to get a life-saving coffee, which had to be postponed due to the unexpected arrival of this mysterious object.

And that didn't make me feel any happier at all.

The thick, dark purple paper looked regal and too expensive to be mediocre; usually such envelopes contained bad news or invitations to a private bohemian reception, but it was too fancy for the former and impossible for the latter. Poor students can't get into high society unless they spread their legs in front of someone's wrinkled dick. And I wasn't inclined to do that.

I took the envelope back to my room and put it on the bed. It looked impossibly ridiculous—I would even say vulgar—surrounded by fluffy pink pillows and a variety of stuffed animals—a small army, as Jimin liked to put it. The envelope was a perfect match for its sender—luxurious, vulgar, and obscenely expensive—the very embodiment of Yeonjun's tastes. Judging by the ten missed phone calls and a whole bunch of messages, Jun wanted to make sure that the envelope had been delivered. He even linked it to Jimin, which almost offended me.

I still remember how, on a stupid whim, I had to dye his hair pink in the middle of the night while his sweet, high-pitched voice babbled something like, "Make me look like the Sugar Plum Fairy." After that, you swore to be absolutely loyal to me, Jimin.

All men do is lie.

I didn't have the strength to play in peepers with purple paper. It was giving me a headache. I also had to give an answer to one of the culprits in this situation; otherwise, the scale of the drama would reach the dimensions of the universe.

Come on, Nabi. It's just an envelope. It won't bite you.

After I had settled down comfortably on the bed, I decided to begin to reply to Yeonjun's message.

"I've received the envelope with the documents you told me about, Jun. I'm so grateful for your help." Okay, that was nice, maybe. Or at least I wanted it to be that way. I'm definitely not going to text him to say that I've been deliberately ignoring his texts and calls. Anyway, we had a pretty interesting relationship with Yeonjun. They were never very sweet. The second one was for Jimin, and as my fingers were hovering over the letters with the first apologies, the phone started to vibrate.

Our photo with Jimin flashed on the screen. We were on a trip to Pusan, his hometown. The golden beach in the purple sunset, smiling Chim and Taehyung—his gorgeous boyfriend-and me with a grimace, burnt shoulders and one shoe in hand, the other lost in an unequal battle with tidal waves. When you look at this photo, you can immediately say that it is summer, my least favourite season. I don't even know why it was necessary for them to drag me along on this trip. Most of the time I was on my own. While Chimin tried to lick Te's tonsils or fought off the frat boys who thought buying a sugary-sweet cocktail would magically open my legs. So that was how two weeks of my "fun" summer holiday went by.

And here we are again, back to the lie. Let's go; it'll be fun, they said.

How this photo ended up on Jimin's contact screen is still a mystery to me. But that's not the point now. I took a deep breath and picked up the phone:

"Hi baby."

"Oh! Did you really answer my call instead of ignoring it as usual? How can you treat me like this? I am your soul mate. The only light in your dark world; you don't love me at all?" There was the sound of a fake sob on the other side of the phone. "I've never been ignoring you, Chim." I didn't get to finish because I was interrupted.

"I've called you a lot—eighteen times to be exact. And you, my dear butterfly, haven't answered a single call. You're making me nervous, Nabi, and that's making Taehyung nervous."

"If you'd let me finish, then you'd know how much I love you and how impossible it is to ignore you." He couldn't see my smile. But I'm sure he could feel it in my words. "You are the only light in my boring life; will you forgive me? And please apologise to Tae. I know my sunlight can be quite unbearable sometimes. So why did you call me?"

"First of all, I wanted to know if you'd received an envelope from Yeonjun; you don't answer when he calls, so he called me. More importantly, have you opened it, Nabi?" He asked, sounding genuinely interested as he spoke.

"Yes, Chim, I got the envelope." I ran my fingers over the dark purple paper in a thoughtful manner. "And no, I didn't open it yet. I'm not sure I even wanna. Is this a good idea, Jimin? All of it?"

"You're being too dramatic, in my opinion. Jun wants to help you. All you have to do, my beautiful butterfly, is relax and accept his help. Sometimes sweet little girls like you just need someone who can solve all of their problems for them." Jimin told me in a patronizing way. In a way, I had to agree with him, but hey! I'm not a damsel in distress or a sugar baby; even though I was in trouble, it wasn't as bad as it looked. Jimin's a bit of an exaggerator. "It's not that hard. You go to the club with Yeonjun, have fun, and in the morning you have a few thousand dollars in your account. How does that sound for you?" Park Jimin had a very annoying way of being right all the time. It really wasn't that hard to accept Yeonjun's offer, earn enough to pay off your debts, and take a little time out of the eternal race for money. In the end, I have to think about myself sometimes.

"Okay, I'll listen to you and try to relax. One last question, though: Are you trusting Yeonjun?" And this question made me feel much more uncomfortable than the secret clubs, the elite society, and the complete financial crisis.

"Absolutely." Now his voice sounded confident and serious. "Nabi, Yeonjun and I have been friends for years. I'm sure you'll be safe around him. Jun wants the best for you, and so do I, and if you'll let us, we'll give it to you. You do know that you can ask me for anything, right?" The warmth and care that I could hear in every single word that he said to me warmed my heart. "I am not going to ask you for money."

"You're a stubborn, willful, and terribly categorical bitch, and now I can understand why you haven't had sex for so long. Can't you just let me and Tae look after you? Say the word, and you'll have the whole world to yourself. Sometimes I honestly don't understand how I can love you with such intensity. Given your utter inability to take advantage of opportunities. We're the best package deal ever. Do you know that? Where else are you going to find such a good dick and a black card as a bonus?" He asked.

"Jesus, Jimin! You can stop this. We're not fucking, is that clear? And I'm not going to take your money, even if you try to put your credit card in my hand every time. I can handle this on my own. "I shouted in a huff.

"OK, don't be uptight." He was such a bitch sometimes. He really enjoyed irritating me. "But I'm right. Aren't I? It's been a long time since you've been scolded. Go on, say I'm right. Come on, Nabi, tell me everything. Are you playing with yourself, dirty girl, or do you need to be taught a lesson? I want details."

There were times when I couldn't understand why God was punishing me in this way, but I guess it was the reckoning for the sins of my ancestors that could come in the form of the pink-headed Park Jimin.

"I hate you. I wasn't serious.

"I know." Chimin said cheekily. "By the way, to calm your nerves a bit, I'll tell you. I personally know some members of the club you and Yeonjun are going to. They are Taehyung's friends, so have no fear. But the best thing about these clubs are the men. Nabi, there are men there who make me believe in the existence of Greek gods and fallen angels." Jimin said it dreamily. "God, I would show them how flexible I can be if I didn't go out with Tae."

"All right, stop with that. I get it." I wasn't in the mood to listen to the dirty fantasies of my best friend right now. Especially when you consider the fact that he was absolutely right about my sexual life. I'd been single for a long time.

"Okay, nun, I won't corrupt you; otherwise, you'll have a desire for sex."

"Park Jimin!" I squealed.

Jimin just laughed out loud on the other side of the phone.

"I won't do it again. I promise." Actually, I didn't call you in the first place because of Yeonjun or your arrangement, but I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go somewhere with me.

"Where exactly do you have it in mind?"

"Do you have any idea about Paradigm?" "That fancy spiritualist boutique on Instagram everyone's talking about? I've had a bit of a hearing about it." Why would Jimin want to go to Paradigm? It was a place that was just as private and secret as the one that I had to go to with Yeonjun. "I have to pick up some packages for Taehyung; you know he's obsessed with all kinds of mystical stuff, and this damn boutique only gives out packages—no deliveries—can you imagine that? It feels like the Holy Grail, not a silly amulet."

"As defined by your style with Tae, it sounds terribly stilted and expensive. Sure, I'll go. Give me an hour or so; I need some time to pack."

"Fine, I'll pick you up. Wait for me, my love."

"Please, just pick something a little more simple than your Porsche.

"I love my Porsche; what's wrong with my car?"

"It's too much attention. Last time, everyone at the university talked about it for a whole week. There were even questions about whether you were my sugar daddy or not.

"I definitely love it. It is the universe's way of telling you that there is no need for resistance. I am going to take care of you, my little butterfly. And I am definitely going to come and pick you up in a Porsche. See you in one hour, baby."

"Jimin, just not in a Porsche!" I shouted, but it was too late; I only heard beeping.

As always, it was Park Jimin who had the last word.

I was happy to be able to postpone opening the purple envelope for a while because of this unexpected trip. Even though an occult boutique or something like that wasn't the best prospect.

Anyway, it's time to pack.

Jimin has a strict rule. He's never late.

Exactly one hour later, Jimin's Porsche picked me up from the dorm, and to all my indignation, the only response he gave was a mocking giggle.

There was good traffic on the roads. After twenty minutes, we stopped at the glass door with the silver star engraving. The exquisite sign above the door read as follows: Paradigm is a boutique of spiritualism." The phases of the moon, from New Moon to Descending Moon, were written on the board below the sign.

"Let's go, Nabi. Pick up the package, and I'll take you home. I know you still need to get Yeonjun registered." Chim wrapped his hands around my forearm and literally dragged me into the boutique as we entered.

As we walked in, the bells above the door began to ring, but the sound was not familiar to me; it looked more like glass than metal. When I looked up, I understood the reason for the sound. There were crystal bells hanging above the door, with long strings of pearls and little silver crescents. It was a very beautiful sight. While I had my eyes on the bells, Jimin was already in conversation with the girl behind the counter. She was tall, with a cascade of long, golden hair. Her features were large and expressive. The girl looked more like a model than a soothsayer or spiritualist, although in the age of Instagram, maybe that's what modern wizards and witches should look like.

I couldn't hear the whole of the conversation, just bits and pieces of it: "It's a parcel for Kim Taehyung. "Yes, it concerns the Kim family." "Please deliver it as soon as possible."

While they were talking, I thought I'd take a look around the shop.

The common room was not large; the shape of the room was round, probably because of some mystical meaning. The walls were covered with velvet curtains, behind which a number of doors were concealed. On metal shelves were various objects: crystal balls, shards of precious stones, heavy tomes on voodoo and fortune-telling, ancient talismans in forged frames, hare legs—a symbol of good luck—and other magical items. There was something macabre about this place—a thick, dense air in which the scent of frankincense and myrtle was vivid—and the heavy, lingering presence of something otherworldly, like a ghostly footprint—a very evil footprint. In all other respects, it was the same luxurious, new-fangled boutique for the chosen rich or the mystical amateur.

My attention was drawn to a crown. It lay on a velvet cushion on one of the many shelves. There were nine black diamonds at the center of the crown. They were surrounded by rubies, so deep in scarlet that they cast a black glow, and pearls to match. The lines of the metal were twisted. They were like snakes wrapped around jewels. The cut of the diamonds was not typical; it was something extremely rare for this kind of gemstone—the Empress.

I was drawn to this crown as if it were a magnet. This feeling of inescapable attraction that you can't resist—I have a feeling like this crown has always belonged to me. Now we are finally reunited. I reached out to touch it, to feel the coolness of the dark, glittering diamonds under my fingers, and I almost did when someone's hand fell on my shoulder.

"You shouldn't touch that, dear."

I gave a frightened jerk, either at the touch of someone else or at the low voice that had come so close to me.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I was just attracted to this crown, and I..." I had no idea how to explain the fact that I'd literally had a call from a piece of metal. Even for a place like this, it might have sounded crazy.

As I turned, I saw a woman in her 40s. Like the girl at the counter, she was more like a modern socialite on Instagram than an occult shop worker.

"All right, darling, the important thing is that you stopped it in time. This thing has a bad reputation; every one of its owners has ended up committing suicide. Anyway, my name is Kim Seoyun, owner of Paradigm. What brings you here today?"

"I'm here with a friend who needs to pick up a package for his boyfriend."

"A young man with pink hair, right? He's in the office with JaYoung; they're in charge of the registration," Seoyun said.

Even the names of the two were breathtakingly beautiful and meaningful. Sometimes the universe invests more in some than others. Seoyun frowned for a moment, as if she had read my thoughts. Then her face cleared, and she smiled softly.

"You're a beautiful girl, Nabi."

"Thank you." I sounded terribly stupid; sometimes I act like a complete fool, but I couldn't think of a more witty response. There was an uncomfortable silence between us. Until it was broken by SeoYun, who asked me a question.

"Do you want me to tell you what your fate is going to be like? My clients are of the opinion that I'm very precise in my predictions."

"Oh no, you don't have to do that." I waved away. "I don't really have a lot of faith in destiny and omens."

"You don't believe in destiny?" She arched her eyebrow in a skeptical manner. "Or don't you want to believe in it?"

"I'm a realist; I can't imagine believing in a destiny and hoping for some mystical higher power to intervene."

"Hmm, this is quite interesting. Come on, let's play," she said, picking up a Taro deck and opening it like a fan. She handed it to me. "You choose five cards; two of them are about love, two of them are about the future, and the last card is about the inevitable destiny, something that's been foretold since your birth."

I won't lie, I was so curious, even though I had no faith in the cards in my hand. My hand reached out for a pack of cards, my fingers hovering over the smooth, flickering surface as if I were trying to feel the ones I needed.

Fatum—the word had a scary ring to it.

AfterI had quickly decided on the four cards, I solemnly drew the last card and handed it over to Miss Kim.

Seoyun took the cards from me with a knowing smile. She began to turn them over one by one and started to explain what each meant.

"You are going to love like it is hard to imagine." She said. Feelings carried threatening limits. Crazy, wild, and burning love—this is a card that comes up very rarely, but it has a very strong meaning. It is the Queen of Cups. For someone who really loves you, you are going to be a true queen, a goddess; everything will be done for you; everything you want will be fulfilled; but if you get too caught up in this feeling, you will be too easily controlled. As strong as this love is, so strong is the destructiveness of it. You should be more careful with it.

The next card was turned over by Seoyun.

"The star is a bright omen for you. You have a choice in front of you that will change everything. Follow the star, and it will show you the path, but remember, no star shines without darkness. This is a map that will lead you to where you need to be. In search of that guiding star, it looks like I'm going to have to look up in the sky some more. Perhaps I should also follow the spiders in order to find the Chamber of Secrets as well.

I treated them with absolute skepticism.

"Death: everything has a cycle, and when death appears, it means you're nearing the end of one. The appearance of death is the end of one cycle and the beginning of another. It may have something to do with the love that awaits you. Your loneliness is about to end."

"The Five Cups is a situation in which you are stuck and can't move forward. This card is about your problems and the need for change in your life. This is the same kind of magical kick that is followed by heavy and dramatic events. The Fives indicate that this is only the second act of the great play; there is still much to come, but the finale promises to be happy if you accept your destiny. Otherwise, it can always end in tragedy. This card tells you: Accept yourself and surrender."

I didn't have a bit of faith in her words. If Jimin or Lia had been in my place, they would have been on a shopping spree for amulets and shamans; their belief in the afterlife was absurdly high.

Before I turned the last card, Seoyun took my hand. She looked me in the eyes seriously and asked:

"Are you sure that you want to know what fate has meant for you, because sometimes it's hard to deal with it?"

"Yes, I do. I'd like to hear it." Isn't that the whole point of a fortune telling?

It's just a deck of cards and some vague words from a pseudo fortune-teller. What could possibly go wrong?

When Miss Kim turned over the last card, her face went pale, and she let the palm of her hand slip out of hers as if it had been burned.

"Go away." sounded like undisguised horror in Seoyun's voice. "Leave immediately. JaYoung, accompany her to the exit, now." She turned away from me, clutching the card in her hand.

I never had a chance to have a look at what was on it.

"What is going on? Why are you kickin' us outta here? What did you see on that card? "In complete disregard for my questions, Miss Kim hurried to the office door, hiding behind the curtains.

Just then, JaYoung and Jimin came out of the other room with a small black box tied with a gold ribbon. It must have been a parcel for Taehyung to take.

"Nabi, are you all right?" Jimin asked me in a worried tone.

No, it wasn't all right; the lady looked at me as if I were one of the bad omens of the biblical coming.

What was it about this card that was able to frighten her to such an extent?

"JaYoung, take her to the exit and close the boutique; we will not be working any more today."

I grabbed the woman's hand before she could turn the doorknob and disappear into the darkness of the room.

"What's the meaning of the last card? Tell me; I'm not going to leave here until you tell me."

"Death is closer to you than you think. It's already on its way to you." Her whole body began to shivered as if it were cold, but the shop was warm. I would say stuffy.

"Who's comin'? What are you talkin' about?" I insisted on it.

Seoyun suddenly turned to me and pushed a crumpled tarot card into my hand. There was There was madness in her dark eyes, and her pupils were so dilated that they were almost the thick green of her iris.

"The Devil."

After that, she practically pushed me to the exit, where I met a worried and confused Jimin. We came out of the boutique, and the door behind us clicked in a characteristic way.

This was not how I had imagined a trip to Paradigm.

"What the hell just happened?"

"You'll believe me when I say I have no idea." Jimin and I looked at each other.

"Next time Taehyung will pick up his stupid packages themselves, I will not go to places like that again. Nabi, I saw someone's canned heart in a jar and bat carcasses. Did you know they have such tiny, sharp teeth? I could swear that I've never seen anything so disgusting in all my life." He said.

"No more occult boutiques, I totally agree with you. Let's go home, I still have to send the paperwork over to Jun."

"I must have something to drink first, and the stronger the better. Let's go to 'Salvatore' and then go home."

I took one last look at the sign, which was now shimmering faintly in the setting sun. I crumpled the card into a small ball and threw it in the rubbish bin next to me.

The Devil, of course. I'm not going to believe the words of this crazy fortune teller. Maybe I should scatter the salt at the entrance, or then he will suddenly knock on my door.

Two hours later, after a big margarita for two and a few glasses of red wine, Jimin took me home, and I was in the same position as before the whole stupid trip to Paradigm.

Sitting on my bed, hypnotised by a dark purple envelope with documents from Yeonjun. There was no point in putting it off any longer.

Instead of pulling a millimeter at a time, I need to learn how to rip off a plaster in one move. Maybe deep down I'm a masochist if I prefer this method, but right now I don't have the time to sort out my hidden sexual desires.

I picked up the envelope; it was surprisingly heavy and pleasantly soft to the touch. The paper had a pleasant odor of powder and velvet, a reminder of the Victorian era in England. Unrequited love letters must have smelled like that.

The envelope was sealed by a wax seal with a monogram cast in an antique shade of gold. When I opened it, the thin wax cracked under my fingers, leaving a glistening particle on them. Inside were a number of documents tied together: a non-disclosure agreement, a handwritten note, and a velour jewellery bag bound with silk ribbons and embroidered with opals and sapphires. I'm sure this little thing was worth twice what I'd been paid in six months, and what lay inside cost much more.

My first choice was a piece of paper. Yeonjun had always written in an incredibly beautiful way - calligraphed, like a fountain pen, with little curls at the end of the letters.

"My lovely Nabi, I look forward to seeing you this Saturday. I am so glad that you have agreed to take me up on my offer. A treasure like you deserves the best in the world, and I'm overjoyed to give it to you. In case you change your mind and decide to back out of your contract with ”Crescent,” I will be the one to pay all of your bills and your tuition fees in the future. We have already discussed this with Jimin. Despite your stubborn refusal to accept any financial help from us, I will do it anyway."

Sometimes I think that all of my friends have a sugar daddy complex; their desperate desire to pay for everything in my life is taken to the extreme. Of course, if you grew up with a "golden spoon" in your mouth, a few thousand dollars, it was absolutely nothing. But for me, it was an exorbitant burden, and yet I wanted to handle it myself.

As dubious as it sounds, I didn't want to say no.

"There's a confidentiality agreement in the envelope, and you need to sign it until tomorrow night. Your session is scheduled for Saturday night. We have to be at ”Crescent” by 23:00, after which Seulgi, the main administrator, will pick up a perfectly compatible client for you to donate blood. Before you meet her, I want to make sure that all the paperwork is in order. There are also two versions of the contract that you should have a look at.”

The ”Crescent” allows donors to choose whether they want to work with them for a year or for one night. Accordingly, there are two types of contracts: annual and one-off.

”I've picked out an outfit for you to wear when we go to ”Crescent”; it'll arrive on Friday with everything you need. You'll look gorgeous, and I'm sure you'll thank me afterwards. Personally, I think you could do with showing a little more of your skin and accentuating the sexy lines of your body. For my taste, you're too modest.”

I squeezed my eyes shut in annoyance. If my buttocks weren't pressed up against the skirt and my breasts weren't protruding, I'd certainly be too modest. The more skin on display, the better. Jun's preference was something I was well aware of. A nice outfit was to be forgotten, and if my underwear was even a little bit covered, I would consider myself lucky. I was sure there would be no thanks on my part.

"The club's owners give all new donors a thank-you gift. It's inside an envelope. Accept it with all sincerity, because you are giving them your life's resources, and this is the least they can do for you. It is also their request that you wear it on your arrival at the “Crescent.”

My dear Nabi, it will be a night you'll never forget. I can assure you of that.

All my love, Yeonjun. "

I was very excited about the prospect of Saturday night. There was a feeling that there was some hidden meaning in the whole situation that I was missing out on. My brain was sending me distress and danger signals, just like Yeonjun. Be careful. The storm is coming.

In any case, sometimes it is better to be at ease and just go with the flow. Like Jimin said, I should be less dramatic.

I signed the NDA contract right away. I'll definitely forget it if I don't do it now. Checking Yeonjun's words against the remaining documents in the envelope, there were two versions of the contract: a one-off and an annual one. I decided to save the gift from the owners of the 'Crescent' for the very end. My first choice was the one-off contract. There were fewer pages, and it was clearer and easier to read.

The first item on the contract was the NDA. There was a long explanation of why it was so important and necessary.

"All "Crescent" clients are people of high social status and position. Their privacy is of the utmost priority to us. Especially with regard to their "special" conditions and specific needs, we want to guarantee our clients complete privacy. Each donor undertakes to sign a confidentiality agreement prior to the first session. Otherwise, the contract between the donor and our client will not be concluded." Guests of the club, hereinafter referred to as "donors," are obliged to keep confidential all the information obtained during personal meetings as well as everything that happens during the blood transfusion, hereinafter referred to as "sessions."

Well, it sounded a bit strange, but I could understand why "Crescent" insisted on signing a contract of this kind. In today's world, it is difficult to keep things secret. And when you are dealing with powerful and wealthy people, it is even more difficult. Paparazzi lurk around every corner, and tabloids are ready to start a scandal with the slightest spark, especially in South Korea.

Who in their right mind would want to survive the criticism, the judgment, and the airing of dirty laundry?

The donor's responsibilities and the client's expectations were the next point in the contract.

In short, you become an exclusive blood donor for one or more clients of the club after signing the contract. This is what Yeonjun told me as well. This form of contract required a single "session."

They didn't give any details, just that the service was linked to a certain type of genetics in their clients and was urgently needed. They did not say how the transfusion process would take place.

"The donor agrees to give their blood and receives financial compensation from the club after a successful procedure. The whole process is strictly controlled by "Crescent" staff. They also act as intermediaries between the donor and the client. Their job is to carry out a compatibility test that will guarantee a better result in the transfusion."

Point three is called "testing for compatibility."

Each donor was tested for compatibility before the "session," and the club administrators—as I learned from Yeonjun's note, my administrator's name is Seulgi—took a blood sample and compared it with the most suitable partner or partners. It was not only the blood that was important, but the members of the club also had a long list of preferences and wishes that the donor had to match. Looks were not the least of these. Height, weight, hair colour, body type, nationality, and age—the list seemed endless. There was even a clause about the type of voice and the food preferences of the donor. Let's just say: "Crescent" customers were very spoiled and had a personal view of the blood donation process. Partner - It sounded a little too intimate to me for this kind of situation, and it clearly had a double meaning.

The most pleasant of all—financial compensation—was point number four.

"For voluntarily donating their life resources, all donors receive financial compensation from "Crescent," ranging from $1,000 to $3,000. The amount paid varies according to the amount of blood donated and the status of the client with whom the donor was matched".

It was a fabulous amount of money. It was a very quick income, but it wasn't that easy. I felt it in my gut. The work was flawless; there was just no such thing.

I've reached the last point in the contract - the completion of the agreement.

Here are the details of the beginning and end of the 'session', how the money was paid, how the donors returned home, and other details. The start of each 'session' was exactly midnight, but the donor had to be at the club two hours before for preparation. The 'session' ended at 8am the next day. In general, the whole process took up to eight hours. The transfusion took place in private rooms, the doors of which were locked from the beginning to the end of the "session." Inside the rooms, there was a "panic button" in case of unforeseen situations.

The transfusion process itself is only revealed on arrival at the "Crescent," as the paragraph indicates: "is not standard." The donors were taken home by the club staff at the end of the "session." If there was a request from the client for the donor to be taken home in person, there was no objection to this.

And that's all. The one-off contract was over. A few thousand dollars have been added to your bank account.

I won't lie, it sounded fabulous. But there was a lot that made me feel confused and want to know.

Some of the clauses in the contract left me scratching my head with their veiled meaning and ambiguous choice of words.

So I moved on to the second version of the contract - the one for the year.With lots of footnotes and sub-paragraphs, it was twice as long.

It had the same beginnings: the NDA agreement, the donation, and the compatibility test, but then everything changed dramatically.

Gone was the faceless "client." In its place came the "patron." Now it sounded as if there was a contract between the patron and the donor. In addition to this new word, there were also new points to be included in the contract.

Medical care, diet, sports with a private trainer, spa treatments, and even specific items such as painting, dancing, and music lessons. From the signing of the annual contract, which included renting accommodation, paying bills and school fees, giving gifts, traveling, and so on, the patrons were fully responsible for the welfare and comfort of their exclusive donor.

They promised to keep the donor happy and satisfied and to see to whatever needed to get done. It was now that the ambiguity of the word 'partner' began to make sense to me. In this contract, it was clearly stated that the business relationship could continue between the sheets.

"The sexual or romantic relationship between the donor and the patron is their personal affair and is welcome if both parties are interested in and attracted to each other. All intimate details, including details of the sexual act, remain strictly confidential between donor and client. A list of the sexual practices as well as the permissible kinks will be discussed in advance. The donor is entitled to determine the acceptable boundaries of sexual contact, its intensity, and the degree of emotional "subspace" involved. A stop word is chosen in advance, or the clients can always use the color system: green - yellow - red.

Donors have the right to appeal to the management of the club if, at any time, their rights have been violated and they have been subjected to emotional, physical, or sexual coercion. The owners of "Crescent" have an obligation to provide the donor with a safe place and appropriate specialists for the assessment of the donor's condition. The contract is suspended. Further details are awaited. The issue can be resolved peacefully. In the worst case, the contract will be terminated immediately, and the donor will be compensated for a period of five years." That was certainly not my expectation. I will have to ask Yeonjun if he has any knowledge of such cases, if they have happened, or if anyone has ever had an early termination of a contract.

In addition, it was stated that such a relationship was not obligatory and that if the donor did not want to have sexual relations with the patron, he could refuse, and the patron would have no insistence.

But I don't think many donors would refuse, considering that even Jimin, who is dating an absolutely perfect and insanely attractive man named Taehyung, talked about the beauty of “Crescent's“ clients. It's a very tempting offer, even though it sounds like a twisted version of sugar daddy with a bloody kink.

There have also been some changes to the point about the financial compensation. It is now a compulsory monthly allowance. Depending on the status of the patron, it could range from $30,000 to $90,000 a year. The more he or she could afford to pay, the higher the amount of the benefit. The money was divided into equal parts. It was paid over the duration of the contract. Always on the first Monday of the month.

I can't imagine that anyone would be willing to pay that kind of money for your blood. Obviously, for the members of the “Crescent“, this was an acute question, as the amount in the contract had several zeros.

One of the most important points in the contract was the exclusivity clause.

This was unacceptable for an annual contract, unlike a one-off contract, which allowed the donor to contract with different clients each time. To put it bluntly: Your blood belonged to the sponsor. In this respect, there were so many requirements and so many details written down that were important to the patron. In addition, the one-year contract was only available to donors who had knowledge of the club's clients or staff. Yeonjun was one of them. So I received two versions of the contract instead of one.

At the end, there was the same information about the terms and conditions of the 'meeting' and a few paragraphs about the expiry of the one-year contract.

Having read the contracts, I felt like we were in a strange combined version of 50 Shades of Gray and True Blood.

With a heavy sigh, I leaned back on the pillows, putting the papers to one side, and pressed my cheek against the fluffy, soft toy. It felt good against my skin, the soft purple velour. It was a weird variation on 'Princess of the Bumpy Space' from 'Adventure Time'. Minho had given it to me after another drunken debacle. How he came into possession of this toy is still a complete mystery to all of us.

I had a couple of thoughts about my options. On the one hand, I could make a one-off deal with them and then forget about what had happened the next morning. The amount they offered to compensate me would have been enough to make me feel good for a while, but certainly not enough to pay off all the debts and put some aside just in case.

On the other hand, there was a contract for one year with regular payments and various bonuses, but this also involved a mysterious and demanding patron. One year, and I can say goodbye to all the debts I owe. There was also the chance, without a boring, monotonous job in a bookshop, a tiny room in a student dormitory, or a permanent pit of debt, to see the world, enjoy art, and simply live and be happy.

All this was offered to me on a silver platter. But somehow I thought it was a deal with the devil rather than a blessing from an angel.

In that tempting sentence, there was too much 'but'.

All my thoughts had me on the verge of tears and screams at the same time.

I looked around my little room: dim, mousy grey painted walls; scattered notes and piles of textbooks on the table; picture frames; toys; piles of crumpled blankets on the floor; and a black Balmain velvet jacket that once belonged to Minho, but which he is absolutely certain makes me look better than him. In addition to my things, there were a few of Lia's dresses and Yeonjun's leather jacket, which he left me after one of our many meetings, in my wardrobe, which was tiny by Jimin and Minho's standards. The contrast between their clothes and mine was unbelievable - brand labels, monograms, and distinctive prints - all screaming about their high cost and inaccessibility. I could never have that kind of money, but I had the desire. I really wanted to have it.

This sense of accessibility was something I was curious about.

There was a thick twilight beyond the window. A scattering of purple light poured into the room, turning the whole room a mystical shade of purple. As it danced along the walls, the colour dripped down to the floor, making it look like dark purple water. You could see the first stars begin to appear in the rapidly darkening sky, their broken light sparking off a sapphire embroidered ribbon on a small jewellery bag. I had completely forgotten all about this so-called gift. The cobalt blue sapphires mirrored each other and looked like the eyes of a big cat. That's how I'd always imagined the eyes of a predator - shining in that mystical blue. I took the pouch in my hand and shook it lightly in an attempt to determine what was inside, but the contents did not make a sound.

The silk ribbon came undone with ease. I stared at the contents of the bag with unblinking eyes. Inside was a delicate ornament made of white gold. Thin lines were woven into a star shape. It was inlaid with sapphires and diamonds. It was mesmerizing to look at. Whoever made this necklace obviously put a great deal of love into it. The shape of the ornament itself was not standard; it was more like a guide star in the center of the compass.

I was reminded of what Miss Kim had said to me today as my fingers gently traced the pattern of the necklace.

"Follow the stars, and they will show you the way. A star is a bright omen."

Could it just be a coincidence that the piece of jewelry I was holding in my hand was nothing less than a guiding star?

Either way, I'll definitely be wearing it Saturday—not just because the owners asked me to, but because it is my wish. Perhaps this star will indeed show me the way, but one thing I was sure of was that it was the most beautiful piece of jewelry I'd ever seen.

I thought I'd put the jewelry back in my bag and do some paperwork for Yeonjun. I've had enough mystical prophecies and rich patrons for one day, so I've left the contract selection for Saturday. I'm going to spend the evening resting and relaxing. I'll have a long, hot bath with butter and pink salt, which Jiminy brought me from Paris. I will read a book or listen to a meditation course and call upon my inner "I" to harmonise.

Meditation and soul-searching have become very popular with Lia lately. As a result, I have a whole bookshelf in my room that is dedicated to books of this kind and various CDs with meditation and breathing exercises. Last month, she even gave me a decorative fountain, which was supposed to be calming and relaxing but in fact made me feel more nervous and annoyed than soothed. I looked at the jewelry bag containing the necklace again after gathering all the documents.

"The star will show the way..."

And it's only now that I realise that I've never said my name, Miss Kim, and I don't know how she came to know it.

"You're a beautiful girl, Nabi."

For a moment, I thought that maybe her words weren't made up or lying, but rather a warning, but it was only for a second.

I decided not to give it much thought, shaking my head as if to drive the thought away. If it were a sign of my destiny, it'd be my meeting with her on Saturday. I looked out the window again. As if mocking me, the crescent moon shone brightly through the thick midnight clouds. One thing I was absolutely sure of: a visit to 'Сrescent' would change my life forever.

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mimble-sparklepudding · 1 year

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OC Questions on the Seven Colours of Medieval Heraldry.

A little list of OC questions based on colour symbolism in Medieval English Heraldry. This is a very simplified version of the subject, which is unlikely to impress any serious Medievalists and is intended more for the purposes of entertainment than education.

Gules (Red) - Military Fortitude and Magnanimity.

Does your OC have any experience in the military? Perhaps they come from a long line of soldiers or army leaders? Or were they conscripted or press-ganged into an army at a young age? If they have not had a formal position in an army, then what is their view of the military mindset and hierarchies they have observed?

Does your OC believe in the concept of a "just war" or do they believe that all conflict is to be deplored? Could they conceive of a justifiable reason for one nation to invade another - perhaps to free an oppressed people or prevent the development of a dangerous technology? Or would they only support a war of defence against an aggressor?

Is your OC usually magnanimous in victory - whether against a defeated foe, or against a friend in a game or competition? Or perhaps they enjoy exulting in their success at the expense of others? Perhaps with ribald mockery or spiteful vengeance?

What has been the most difficult thing your OC has ever had to forgive (assuming they have ever done so)? Did they do this of their own accord? Or only after they felt justice had been done or penitence suitably demonstrated?

Does your OC harbour resentment towards a particular person, group or faction? Or are they perhaps part of a widely resented group themselves?

Azure (Blue) - Loyalty and Truth.

Does your OC have a guiding principle by which they live their life - such as duty, self-restraint or vengeance? Has this ever been tested by circumstance or challenged by another person?

Is your OC loyal to a particular nation, clan or social group? How far would they go in ensuring the safety and success of this faction?

How confident is your OC of the loyalty of their companions, lovers or followers? Do they ever feel tempted to test this through spying upon them? Or by engineering circumstances where their loyalty might be tested?

Is your OC honest about their true loyalties? Or are they happy to feign belief in a cause or leader in hopes of material (or other) reward?

Does your OC believe that people should only believe or take inspiration from something if it is actually true? Or are there circumstances where a motivating lie is to be preferred to an awkward or uncomfortable truth?

Sable (Black) - Constancy and Grief.

Is your OC consistent in their behaviour and responses? Or do others see them as unpredictable or even capricious at times? Are there factors at play dictating their reactions of which others might be unaware?

Has your OC always been fundamentally the same person? Or would someone from their past struggle to recognise the person they have become?

Is your OC comfortable in expressing their grief? Such as by crying at funerals or memorial events? Or do they always keep their emotions intensely private? Or perhaps not express them at all?

Has your OC always feared the loss of the same thing - perhaps a loved one, a valuable artifact or a carefully nurtured reputation? Or do they look back with amusement on what once felt important to them?

Does your OC believe that they will be mourned when they die? Or do they suspect they will be quickly forgotten - or even hope that this will be the case?

Vert (Green) - Hope, Joy and Fidelity.

Does your OC feel comfortable expressing feelings of joy - do they laugh or smile easily? Or do they have a constantly stern or dour countenance? If so is this entirely genuine? Or something they feel they need to maintain for the sake of appearances?

How hopeful is your OC about the future? Do they see things as becoming better in general - either for them personally or the world at large? Or do they feel as if decline and disaster are inevitable and all that can be done is to delay the final end for as long as possible?

What makes your OC laugh (if they laugh at all)? Do they have an intellectual or ironic sense of humour? Or do they prefer ribald jokes or slapstick routines?

Does your OC believe in the importance of fidelity in romantic relationships? Or does it not worry them so long as a lover or spouse never discovers their peccadillos in this regard? Conversely do they worry or obsess over the loyalty of their partner or partners?

If your OC could be granted one wish for the future, but could only wish on behalf of another person, who would they choose? And for what would they wish?

Purpure (Purple) - Majesty, Sovereignty and Justice.

Does your OC find it easy to express deference or homage to someone of high social standing? Or is this something they would only do if it benefitted them directly? Or for the sake of a scheme or intrigue?

Is your OC comfortable in the higher echelons of society, such as aristocratic functions or assemblies of the rich and powerful? Or do they prefer to avoid these events if possible?

Does your OC feel that exchanges of ideas or customs between nations or cultures can be positive? Or do they fear the dilution or devaluing of one culture by another? Has there ever been a foreign cultural practice they have adapted for themselves? Or are they fiercely loyal to their own cultural inheritance?

Does your OC have a strong belief in the importance of justice? If so what does justice mean to them? Do they follow the philosophy of "an eye for an eye"? Or are they careful in distinguishing between justice and revenge? Is this the case even if they consider themselves to be the injured party?

Does your OC believe that there can ever be fair and just relations between nations or tribal groups? Or do they assert that might will always make right when it comes to interactions between such factions?

Or (Gold) - Worthy Ambition.

Does your OC have a long-term goal or ambition to which they are constantly working? Or do they tend to bounce chaotically from situation to situation, with no clear plan or sense of what the future may bring?

Does your OC have any wishes or desires of which they are ashamed or otherwise wish to keep secret? Or do they loudly proclaim their every wish to those around them?

Is your OC part of a wider group or organisation working towards a shared goal? If so, then do they always agree with their associates on the correct strategy to adopt? Or are there frequently tensions or disagreements in this regard?

Does your OC have political ambitions, or a strong desire for power or influence? Or are they content to leave the messy business of governance and politicking to others and focus on smaller or more immediate goals?

What does your OC consider to be the noblest or most admirable ambition for a person to hold? Perhaps spreading a particular religious faith? Or improving the lives of the poor? Or even perfecting their own martial skill?

Argent (Silver) - Peace and Sincerity.

Does your OC feel comfortable during times of peace? Or do they only truly know who they are during times of war or conflict? Do they always need an "enemy" to focus upon? Or even just a rival?

Is there a certain person, group or faction with whom your OC believes peace would never be possible? Is this due to their diametrically opposing beliefs? Their historical actions? Or their fundamental untrustworthiness?

Does your OC find it easy to be sincere when expressing their views or feelings? Or do they prefer to adopt an air of detached irony? If so, then why is this the case? Do they fear rejection or mockery by others?

Do others find your OC easy to believe? Or is there something about them that makes others distrustful or cynical about their motives or trustworthiness?

Is your OC a pacifist? Or have they ever had pacifist sympathies? If they have changed their position on such things then what caused this shift? If they reject pacifist arguments, perhaps because they believe that violence can be justified in self-defence, then how do they respond to those who believe in pursuing peace at any cost? Do they see them as weak or naïve? Or as idealists whose ideas deserve serious consideration?

#OC ask meme #OC ask game #OC questions #OC #ffxiv #character questions #character development questions #OC ask prompts #OC ask #OC prompts #OC meme #OC quiz #ffxiv oc

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inadaydream99 · 1 year

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You Wanna Kiss

NCT Dream reaction using variations of the prompt “oooo you wanna kiss me so bad.”

A/N - This is inspired by a request I received but I kinda went on a tangent 😅 Anyway, this is a mix of friends to lovers and established couple scenarios, very fluffy with the mildest hint of angst (if you squint).

Disclaimer: this does not represent any of the members in real life and is for entertainment purposes only.

Mark

He’s endearingly dorky, but that’s one of the reasons you fell for Mark. There was just something in the way he cracked terribly hilarious jokes and then instantly cringed at what he’d said that made your heart melt for him. Although, once you’d gotten closer, you learnt he had a more daring, cheeky side.

“Come on,” His cute giggle completely opposes the teasing smirk he sends your way. “I know you wanna kiss me.”

He’s sure of himself, but not in a cocky way. He more so just puts himself in a light that makes you see him as a man who knows what he wants.

You’re not even entirely sure how you got onto this topic of conversation. All you’d intended to do was join your friend for dinner like you so often do. But somehow, the conversation had turned from how you’re enjoying your meal onto comments that Chenle had previously used to poke fun about your friendship with Mark. Until finally, the question had come about if you’d ever thought of what it would be like to kiss him.

The way he’d first proposed the question was so casual that you almost choked on your mouthful of food, pulling an exaggeratedly disgusted face after.

“And if I do?” You choose now to take a sip of your drink, hiding your rosy cheeks behind your glass. It takes everything in you to keep your expression controlled.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Renjun

“You know you want to…” Renjun sing songs, pulling a knowing expression. But you’re not ready to give in to him yet.

You’ve been sulking on the sofa, giving your boyfriend the silent treatment for a little over two hours now and Renjun doesn’t know how much longer he can last without you talking to him. It’s all over something so trivial anyway.

“You watched our show without me.” You grumble, refusing to look at the person who betrayed you. Yes, Renjun had watched the latest episode of the drama without you, he’d only intended to watch a few seconds, a minute tops. It’s not his fault that Netflix had just so happened to open on that screen and he couldn’t resist the temptation of pressing play…

“And I said I was sorry!” Renjun scoots himself up against you, twisting his body so he is able to lean his head right in your line of vision. He knows that the pleading smile he sends you will melt your resolve, growing increasingly pleased with himself when he notices your cold expression begin to soften.

“Can I have a kiss now?” You watch as he raises a brow at you in question, trying to suppress the triumph that he feels.

“Fine.” You reluctantly agree, bending to press the quickest peck you can to his lips. Except, before you have a chance to pull away, one of Renjun’s hands has cupped your cheek and kept you close, chuckling into the non-existent space between you before kissing you a little deeper.

Jeno

You’ve had feelings for Jeno for as long as you can remember. In fact, you had initially wanted to become friends with him because you found him so attractive. Of course, you then got to know the goofy side to Jeno and found that you were surprisingly even more charmed by his bubbly personality.

So while your crush on him has been there since the very start of your friendship, you now have different reasons as to why you would want to date him. Alongside his good looks, you find his protectiveness towards you so attractive. The way he always offers to walk you home when it’s dark outside and how he always messages you to make sure you are still alive when he hasn’t heard from you in a few days. They are just a few from a long list of reasons of why you’ve fallen for Jeno.

Which is why you are unable to pass up the opportunity when he offers you a kiss.

“Give me a kiss.” He puckers his lips playfully in your direction. You can’t help but snicker at the face he pulls, your eyes simultaneously darting around the cafe self-consciously. “Don’t pretend like you don’t want to.” He adds after a few seconds of waiting.

You roll your eyes at his clear lack of care towards the fact that you’re in public. But, with a wide grin, you comply to his request and lean over to press a kiss to his lips.

Your skin burns from the wave of feelings that wash over you as you pull away and retreat into your chair once again; now with a respectable distance between you.

Except Jeno wants more. So he scoots his chair until it’s pressed into the side of yours, one arm reaching around your shoulders while his other hand gently tucks under your chin and coerces your face to look at him.

“We’re not done yet. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to kiss you.”

Haechan

Another day, another petty argument. It seems that you and Haechan bicker about such simple domestic things all the time. “Why do you leave the damp towel on the wet floor after your shower?” “Put your empty mug in the sink rather than beside it!” “Turn the light off when you leave the room!” Even your friends have picked up on it and begun to tease you both. But, however frequent your arguments are, they never seem to last long. And this time is no different.

First of all, your boyfriend had gotten annoyed at you for not moving your feet off of the sofa so he could sit down beside you. So he’d acted like a sulking child and put his glass of water on the table without using a coaster.

When you’d got annoyed over the ring of residue staining the wood from his glass, you then decided to get him where it hurts: you hid his keyboard so he couldn’t play games. Although, it took him a few hours to notice what you’d done because it wasn’t until the evening that he usually played. Once he had noticed though, he was very clearly wound up and you were definitely in for it.

Haechan lured you into a false sense of security when he’d called you into the bedroom, his voice light and seemingly cheerful. It’s only once you’ve been caged in against the wall by him and questioned relentlessly about the whereabouts of his keyboard that you realise what a mistake you made by messing with his gaming setup.

“Oooo you wanna kiss me so bad.” Haechan doesn’t even try to hide his amusement, clearly enjoying holding all of the power. By this point he’s pushed you so far, you’re unsure if you love or hate this side to him. “But that’s the last thing you’re going to be getting unless you confess.”

You gulp when he whispers his words dangerously close to your ear, your whole body tense. He has you reeling, taking far too much enjoyment of the current dynamic.

Once you’ve finally caved in and Haechan has won back his keyboard, don’t think it’s all over. No. You do get awarded a kiss, way more than you’d expected after winding him up. But it’s just a continuation of his payback, keeping you in his lap while he games and only giving the bare minimum of affection.

Jaemin

“How about we have some kissy time?” You burst into laughter, not quite sure how to respond to Jaemin’s out of the blue request in any other way. Sometimes you wonder how you two became friends. Although, you do love his randomness.

“I said I was bored. How does that relate?” You deadpan once you’ve regained your composure. You can’t give away how fast your heart is racing in your chest, or how much his suggestion really has affected you. Even if he did refer to kissing as “kissy time”.

“It kills time.” He shrugs like its no big deal. No embarrassment evident on his part. “You’re telling me you don’t want to kiss these lips?” He pouts, pointing at his lips in the most shameless way possible.

“I never said that.” You whack his arm, rolling your eyes.

It’s almost impossible to hide the way your cheeks inflame over the thought of kissing Jaemin, one of your closest friends. Although, you’ve never denied how handsome you think he is to his face; it’s always been in a more lighthearted, no pressure sort of way previously. Unlike now, where his invitation is laden with something different.

“Then get over here.” Jaemin grins devilishly, revelling in the way you practically jump into action, closing off the small space that was between you in an instant.

“Promise that you’ll never call it kissy time again.” Jaemin laughs at your pleading eyes, his hands securing you in his hold as he begins to close the space between you.

“We’ll see…”

Chenle

He’s angry and it’s all your fault. You just can’t help the fact that you find Chenle so attractive when he’s rilled up and about to loose his temper.

It started with you giving him the silent treatment for no reason other than finding it funny. Then it progressed into avoiding his touches, noticing how deep his displeased frown got when he had tired to pull you into a back hug but you quickly stepped away and rushed into the bathroom. After that, Chenle wouldn’t leave you alone, knowing exactly what you were up to just from seeing how pleased you looked with yourself.

But you crossed the line when you dodged his kisses. He’s not having that.

“If you don’t get here and kiss me I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” You sassily cut in, failing to hide the amusement you’re taking from seeing your boyfriend so wound up. You can’t help the fact that Chenle is so easy to annoy.

He glares at you. No more words. Just glares. His unfinished threat hanging in the air of the silent room while you wait for Chenle to say something.

Before you know what’s happening, he’s sprung into action, pacing towards you before - albeit a little rougher than he intends to - grabbing you by the waist with one hand, cupping your cheek with the other and smashing his lips into yours.

“Do you really want to know now?” He dares you, mumbling the question into your lips before diving back in without giving you a chance to answer.

When he feels you kiss back without any resistance he grins into your lips, understanding that you have surrendered to his challenge.

Jisung

How the random conversation had lead to this you’re unsure. The last you can comprehend is hearing Mark mention a fact he’d recently read in an article about reasons to date your best friend. Everyone had dismissed his statement with a laugh or teasing remark, except for Jisung who had taken it in silently.

That was almost a week ago now and while it was mostly forgotten by everyone, Jisung hadn’t let it go. It’s mostly because he’s had a crush on you for quite a while now and, along with the fact that you have a good friendship, Jisung thinks that Mark’s statement is all the more reason to finally make a move on you.

“I want you to kiss me so bad…” He gulps, whispering breathlessly. “Please…”

This is definitely not what you were expecting him to say when you’d received his message asking you to come over. You had just assumed he wanted to get food or play video games or something, like you usually do. But the second you had stepped through the threshold of his apartment, Jisung had grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you into his room where he wasted no time in confessing how he feels.

“Sungie,” He watches the sheepish smirk that slowly makes its way across your lips. “If you want us to kiss then you need to be the one to kiss me…” You’re teasing him, making eye contact with him through your lashes.

So Jisung practically launches at you, his hands grabbing onto your waist as he pulls your body flush against his. He swoops down so his lips can capture yours desperately, smiling into you when he feels your respond immediately.

#nct fluff #nct angst #nct reactions #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct dream drabbles #nct drabbles #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream x reader #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop scenarios #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop drabbles

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peach-and-bugs · 11 months

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Can I pretty please get a hc list for when adult Lottie and adult misty are fighting over the same f!reader, before finally agreeing to share her?

I didn’t plan on obsessing over TWO milfs but I’m just a simple Simping creature and i cannot change this 🥺

Simping for both of them is so valid. Lottie and Misty are definitely my faves and I personally would have no idea who to choose if I was forced too

Lottie (2021) and Misty (2021) fighting over the same girl

✰ For starters, they are both extremely passive-aggressive to one another. It's a situation where they both like the same person and they each know it, but the person they like is left completely in the dark

✰ We don't see a lot of Misty and Lottie's relationship in the show, but when we do they keep subtly jabbing at one another, and I think this is how they'd go about their little silent war over

✰ Misty would be extremely pissy to know someone else is interested in someone that she has deemed as hers. She's constantly sending Lottie dirty looks where she scrunched up her face and furrows her brows, pursing her lips all tight in irritation when she catches Lottie watching you with Misty

✰ and Lottie would purposely try keeping you away or she'll attempt to monopolize your attention, which only eggs Misty on further. In conversation, she'll interject, talking over Misty to purposely irritate her further. Lottie finds entertainment in winning

✰ over time their attacks on one another grow more and more heated to the point that you have no choice but to notice and confront them about it

✰ They find themselves in an extremely embarrassing position of having to confess their feelings for you at the same time, which is not how either of them had intended for this to go

✰ Of course, now you find yourself in an awkward position having two women admit that their attraction to you is the reason they've been bickering like children. I think the only resolution is for the three of you to have a long, well-thought-out conversation about when all of this means to try and find some kind of reasonable resolution

✰ but it seems like you're interested in both of them too, so that would be the start of a very tentative poly relationship

✰ I don't think Misty and Lottie would become interested in one another immediately, but over time as you spend more time all together and then they start interacting more one on one, that interest will begin to form and eventually instead of them both dating you separately, you all and up with each other

#◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ kay's at it again♡#◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡chit chat with kay♡#ask box #yellowjackets fanfic #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets thoughts #yellowjackets headcanons #misty quigley #misty quigley x reader #misty quigley headcanons #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews headcanons #misty x lottie #misty x lottie x reader

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ladyimaginarium · 27 days

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𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: Pile 1 with the pink "do not touch me" rabbit pin & Pile 2 with the hot pink "final girl" pin!

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: Use your intuition to pick a card and/or a pin that calls to you most, then scroll to the bottom and find your pile(s) to receive your message!

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: take what resonates, leave the rest of what doesn't & don't force anything if it doesn't fit your situation, keep in mind that energy and outcomes can always change & nothing is forever set in stone, you have free will in every choice you make !! keep in mind that this is a general collective reading so the messages here may not apply to everyone. as a general message: my readings are for entertainment purposes only and don't replace professional medical/legal/business help. feedback and a review after a reading is given, whether public or private, is obligatory. you can do that by reblogging, dming or emailing us privately on the matter. if you do not provide this, you will be added to my greylist and won't be given anymore readings, free or paid, until you give feedback which you can fill out in the form listed down below. keep in mind it's more than okay to pick more than one pile if you feel you have messages in other piles but for this reading I'd suggest just picking one! don't just leave this in the likes, reblog and support your tarot readers, my time and labour aren't for free. while it isn't necessary, if you'd like to tip, my paypal's below. I have personal paid readings available which you can fill out the form below so tips, bookings & feedback are highly appreciated considering i plan to do this for a living!

BOOK A READING | FEEDBACK FORM | TIP JAR

𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝: Dreaming Cat Tarot & The Barkana Tarot.

Pile 1: You have Six of Swords, Seven Of Cups, Ace Of Wands, Queen Of Pentacles, Seven Of Pentacles & The Magician !! I& feel as if it's possible at least some of y'all could be going on a trip this month !! I& usually don't get that for the Six of Swords but with the cats here on a boat going over the river I& feel as if this may be applicable to some of you. Maybe you'll be going with family member or somewhere with your kid(s), if you're a parent, because I& can't help but notice the kitten here. If you're traveling lemme know where y'all are going, I'm& curious !! You may be leaving behind a cycle or a connection that no longer serves you. With the Seven Of Cups I& feel as if you'll be getting many opportunities, especially creative opportunities to flesh out your passions. You could also be getting a lot of career or romantic options if that's what you're looking for & that's awesome !! You could also potentially be daydreaming & manifesting a lot whether you intend to or not, but make sure to choose carefully, especially if you have several options that may overwhelm you !! I& feel like for the majority of you, though, this is going to be creative opportunities.

With the Ace Of Wands, you may be receiving a creative spark which just connects to the Seven of Cups as I mentioned earlier & get new inspiration to start your creative projects with new passion & enthusiasm, but these could also be offers of love & sex, particularly on the more sensual side of things, if that resonates with you. If you're asexual & you're sex repulsed, though, don't worry, this is likely just a new initiative !! Hell, you could even be getting candy from a friend. Maybe for some of y'all it's around your birthday? If so, happy birthday my Aries Suns !! Whatever this opportunity is, take it !! Don't self sabotage yourself !! The Queen Of Pentacles showing up is extremely interesting as this showed up for a reading I& did for a dear friend of mine& for their birthday so if you're reading this, hi Els !! & for the rest of you, y'all could be out here sitting real pretty on your throne living lavish for a bit, y'all could be just enjoying what you've gathered for yourself & to that I& say SLAYYYYY !! You don't have to be a woman to have the Queen of Pentacles energy, everyone has feminine energy btw !! The Seven Of Pentacles just further confirms the Queen Of Pentacles energy as that card represents your harvest, rewards & results of your hard work !! So for some of y'all this month you could be getting a reward for something you did !! That's amazing, y'all !! Although we have all the elements in the suit of swords (representing air), cups (representing water) & wands (representing fire), there's a LOT of Earth energy in this spread with the pentacles !! The number 7 could be significant to you, too, as there's two Sevens in this spread.

Finally, we have The Magician !! Omg look at you, Pile 1 !! You're number 1 !! It's as I& said earlier in the Seven of Cups, you could very well be on your way to manifesting this or even have already manifested whatever you goal you wanted in your life !! Some of y'all could've even used specific manifestation techniques or used the law of attraction or even magick & witchcraft or just a simple prayer to whatever deity you pray to if that's applicable or even just your sheer willpower. I& can't help but notice the infinity symbol & I& feel called to say this but some of y'all could be neurodivergent, specifically autistic, especially because there's a lot of golden symbolism here in this card, but you don't have to be !!

All in all, I& don't think this gonna be a super eventful month for you, Pile 1, specifically because most of these are in the Minor Arcana & that represents your day to day everyday life rather than lifechanging or otherwise major events in your life. With that said, that's all I& have for your reading, Pile 1, thank you so much for being here & have a lovely day !! <3333

Pile 2: You have Queen Of Cups, Ace Of Wands, Ten Of Swords, The Hermit, The Chariot & Strength. I& feel that for the vast majority as if this already happened whether this was recent or for some of you maybe even years ago, particularly the first half of this reading so for some of you I'm& getting this could've been a relationship, romantic, platonic, familial or otherwise that you gave all your heart to, because the Queen Of Cups indicates a very warm & loving, generous person & The Ace Of Wands (which showed up in Pile 1, btw!) indicates an action & an offering, & in return you got The Ten Of Swords which indicates a tremendous loss, ruin, failure, bitterness, betrayal, victimization, collapse & exhaustion. Oh no y'all...

Someone could've walked away from you or you yourself could've walked away from a situation or a relationship (which is what I'm& getting for most of you) that no longer served you. Maybe this person betrayed you in some way or they just weren't giving the way you gave to them or maybe they were emotionally unavailable for whatever reason. I& very much intentionally do not channel toxic or otherwise abusive relationships into my& readings so I& don't think this was an abusive relationship, just someone that could've really broke your heart. For most of you, this was a romantic relationship but for some of you it could've been a platonic or familial relationship, because, contrary to popular belief, friends & family can break your heart, too !! That's really rough, I'm& so sorry. You didn't deserve any of that. Oh... I'm& getting a channeled lyric from Waco, Texas by Ethel Cain where she said "Held you in my arms / I swore that I'd be good to you / and then sat and watched as you walked away from me / Christ is cruel but you're so crueler" so that song or the artist Ethel Cain may be significant to you. Jfc y'all this one's REALLY heartbreaking. This could be a separation of a soulmate connection or a twin flame connection (& I& don't throw around twin flames lightly because that's a very rare type of soul connection!!) Ironically, I'm& also processing a relationship in April that went wrong years ago... so idk, maybe I& needed this message & I& think this is my& reading, too, ehehe.

Regardless of your situation I& need you to know that how someone treats you or lack thereof doesn't define your worth as an individual. I& want you to try & store that Queen of Cups energy into yourself. It doesn't have to be fancy bubblebaths (but if you wanna go ahead!!) & candles, but I& want you to have compassion for yourself. If you can & it's warm where you are, go to the beach & play a bit like the dog in the Ace Of Wands here !! The Hermit indicates a moment of solitude to process & think, spend time alone with yourself & do things you like to do. Btw, stop doomscrolling. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it right now or I'm& bonking you with a stick. (/lh). The Hermit is ruled by Virgo so that may be significant & the number 9 could be significant. Just understand that there's a light ahead of the tunnel like the cute puppy here has with the lantern in The Hermit card !! This puppy wants you to know how loved you are !! The Chariot indicates movement & going forward & Cancer, whether you're a Cancerian or have those placements and/or your person does may be significant as The Chariot is ruled by Cancer. I'm& getting that if you can & you have a vehicle, literally drive around !! Go to a place you like !! Go to a retreat if you have the means to do so !! Maybe even go on a roadtrip with your friends !! Alternatively, your friends could be taking you out to cheer you up. Finally, we have Strength !! Look at you, Pile 2, you're like a lion, untamed & fierce !! Some of you could even be lionkind if you're otherkin, maybe you have a lion fursona, maybe some of y'all like The Lion King or maybe you may wanna watch that movie if you wanna receive some subliminal messages or you may just like lions in general. For some of y'all I'm& getting you're asoiaf/game of thrones fans & y'all may like the Lannisters, I& have no idea why that's coming in so I& guess that could resonate with someone ehehe. I& need y'all to understand that you're stronger than you know !! Strength is arguably the fiercest card in the deck, people gotta watch out for you, Pile 2 !! Y'all got this so go SLAY !!

This seems much more eventful than Pile 1. With that said, that's all I have for you for this reading, Pile 2, thank you so much for being here & have a lovely day!

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chlorine-and-daisies · 1 month

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fics i enjoyed last week!

Confiteor (M) by @adverbian- When the title comes from a prayer for confessing sins, and the tags say it's a marriage proposal, you know this one is going to hit. It's made up of Aziraphale's thoughts and a conversation with Crowley after all of the fighting is done- a forgiving, poetic, and grown-up kind of epilogue. As a 3k word oneshot, every phrase is intentional, and it definitely has that crafted emotional impact. I liked that we don't actually see Armageddon Part 2, but are able to piece together what happened from their dialogue. It's rated M for some *very lightly* implied masturbation at the start and sex at the end (just a few lines), but imo the real reason is because it's a mature take on the characters and their inner motivations. If the Final Fifteen is still hurting you, and you wish Aziraphale and Crowley would just sit down and talk, read this.

Terminus (T) by BraveLight (@emotional-support-demon-crowley)- This is a really unique AU where Aziraphale is an astronaut on a decades-long mission and Crowley is the mission controller responsible for bringing him home! But things get complicated quickly when a. they are absolutely whipped for each other and b. the company that started the mission may not actually want it to succeed! I love the characterization of Aziraphale, Crowley, and the Them in this one. They mainly communicate through calls, and the dialogue is always funny and sweet. I've gotten invested in the story and the mystery in it. It's currently on chapter 7/16, and I'm looking forward to see where it'll take us next!

You, you're driving me crazy (T) - author anonymous- Aziraphale prepares for his driving test in the 1930s, and tries to remember his lessons in the 40s! This one is clearly written with so much love. The narration and dialogue was perfectly in character, the historical setting is full of fun details, and the side characters were unique without feeling forced in. Aziraphale channeling his inner book detective to save Crowley was so entertaining!

requiem of a fallen angel (T) by viperinz- Aziraphale Falls, and Crowley holds him through it. This one is adorable, painful, and powerful hurt-comfort that made me laugh and cry. Yes, it was on my previous list too, and I'm recommending it again this week because the author just finished the sixth and final chapter, and the ending was soft and a satisfying wrap-up, plot-wise, symbolically, and emotionally!!

And for this week's deep cut: city continues on, alone (G) by burnttongueontea (@aziraphale-rights) from 2020! This is a oneshot that takes place in an AU where Adam turned Aziraphale and Crowley human, and they've settled down in the South Downs cottage. In it, Aziraphale returns to London after selling the bookshop. I know, I know- becoming human? Selling a single book, let alone the shop? Those are fighting words!!! But I would really encourage you to keep an open mind and give this a read. The descriptions of London are so vivid and Aziraphale's characterization is great, full of nostalgia and experience and love. It's sad, but there's humor in it too. The author really explores the idea of longing for a place and time in a way that not too many do. We're writing about immortals in this fandom and yet we often forget the weariness that comes along with watching everything go by. Not only that, but the author uses the human AU to tell a very human story about missing a place that no longer exists and watching it change as you start to age. It came as no surprise when I looked in the comments after reading and saw them talking about how they wrote it at a time when they were personally homesick for London! This is the purpose of all good writing- to write about the human experience, to connect to your characters, to tell a story only you could tell.

So yeah! This was a really great week of reading for me. I originally intended to share these lists every weekend- this is only my second post, and I'm already falling behind (it was finals week)! But don't worry, I'm still here to highlight recent work and share my opinions in long rants. I tried to tag all the authors whose Tumblrs I could find, but as always please let me know if I've missed one.

Please add your own recommendations (including self-promotion), and I hope you will enjoy these stories as much as I did!

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #fanfiction #fanfic rec #fic rec #fanfiction recommendation #chlorine and recommendations

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glittervame · 1 month

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Lord and Savior

🌟-I got you babes, (For the rest of you send me requests!)

Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Low-key Reader being a Dick rider, Use of the Dark Lords name, Them both being little shits tbh, Smut (You're welcome), Brief editing (Really just skimming through), Angst for fun

I low-key want to try out pink fronting- (If you know you know, give me a request if that's something you want), A little fun fact about myself I hate Harry Potter as a person.

The Room of Requirement, a place where one could find anything they needed, had never been so unyielding. Its doors, once so accommodating, now refused to budge despite Harry and Y/n's every attempt. Trapped within its confines, the two enemies found themselves in a most unusual situation. They hated each other with a loathing passion; their rivalry spanning back years, fueled by jealousy and resentment, mostly because Harry found out that she was Draco Malfoys' cousin and that she was a death eater.

First, they kept themselves on opposite sides of the room not acknowledging each other's presence. Y/n had found herself perched on a throne of books she had made in the first three hours they were there, a vain attempt at feeling important and in control. Harry, on the other hand, had been pacing the room, running his fingers through his untidy hair over and over, coursing all of his decisions that led him up to right now.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they both spoke at the same time. "Do you want to play a game?" Y/n asked, her voice cold and emotionless. She knew she was better at games, it was one of the only things she was better at than him. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. "Alright, let's play twenty questions."

They both thought about it for a moment. Twenty questions was a game they had both played before, a game where one person thought of something and the other person had to guess what it was by asking a total of twenty questions. It was a simple game, but they both knew it could get complicated, especially when they were both as good at it as they were.

"Fine," Harry said, his voice slightly less strained than before. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "Alright, I'll go first. Is it a person, place, or thing?"

Y/n smiled slightly, feeling a small thrill of anticipation. "It's a person." She answered, trying to keep her expression neutral.

Harry nodded, already forming a question in his mind. "Right, and are they living or dead?"

Y/n considered her answer for a moment before deciding. "Living."

Harry thought for a moment longer, his mind racing through a list of potential people they knew. "Is this person famous?"

Y/n hesitated. "Yes, they are quite famous."

Harry thought some more, narrowing down the list of possibilities in his mind. "Are they an actor or actress?"

Y/n smiled, feeling slightly triumphant. "No, they're not in the entertainment industry."

Harry's brow furrowed in concentration. "Are they a politician?"

Y/n's smile faded slightly. "Yes, they are."

Harry thought for a moment longer, trying to place the name. "Is this person from Britain, or from another country?"

Y/n thought about it for a moment. "They're from Britain."

Harry's eyes widened slightly as he finally figured it out. "Is it…is it Dumbledore?" he asked, almost afraid to say the name aloud.

Y/n's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "No, it isn't Dumbledore," she replied, her voice slightly sharper than she intended. "It's Voldemort." There was a pregnant pause as the words hung in the air between them. Harry looked at her, surprised by her answer. He hadn't expected her to say that. "But… why did you choose Voldemort?" he asked, unable to hide the confusion in his voice.

"He's our Lord and savior" She muses adjusting her sleeve to her green robes, Harry shot her a withering glare. "He is the one that will make the world great again" She continued, Harry snorted at that remark. "He's done so much for us, he's given us purpose, a reason to live, to fight, to be better than everyone else." She paused, taking a deep breath, her voice softening. "Filthy Mudbloods"

Harry rolled his eyes, finding her defense of Voldemort to be ironic, to say the least. "And all those people he's killed? The ones that were innocent?" He asked, anger and disgust seething beneath his calm exterior.

Y/n shrugged. "They were just casualties of war," she replied, her voice cold. "And they died for a greater cause. They died so that we could have a world free of muggles, free of those who Think they deserve a place in our world" She paused, her expression softening slightly. "Don't you see? Voldemort isn't just our leader, he's our hero. He's the one that's going to make the world a better place."

Harry felt a surge of anger course through him at her words. "You're deluded, you know that?" He spat. "He's a monster, and if you can't see that, then maybe you're just as bad as he is."

Y/n's face flushed with anger, her green eyes narrowing. "And what about you, Harry?" She hissed. "You're just a pathetic little tool. Defeated him once and think you're a big shot? You're nothing but a waste of space." She leaned in closer, her voice dripping with venom. "You're just like everyone else. Afraid of change, afraid of the future. Well, I'm not. I believe in Voldemort, and I'm willing to fight for what's right."

Harry felt a mixture of anger and pity for her. "You're just blind, Y/n," he said, his voice gentle despite the harsh words. "You don't know what he's really like. You don't know what he's capable of. You don't know the things he's done."

"Oh, and you do?" she snorted derisively. "You think you're so much better than him? You've done nothing but run away your whole life. You're just as much of a coward as everyone says you are."

Harry felt a flash of pain at her words, but he refused to let it show. "At least I've never killed innocent people," he retorted. "And I'll keep running away until I find a way to stop him."

Y/n laughed, the sound cold and mocking. "You'll never stop him," she said. "You'll never beat him. You're nothing but a pathetic loser, just like Dumbledore." She turned her back on him, walking away with her head held high. "Let everyone else deal with the issue so you don't have to," she added, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Harry felt a mixture of anger and hurt as he watched her leave. He knew she was wrong, but her words still stung. He knew he couldn't change her mind, not about Voldemort, not about anything. He sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He knew he had to keep fighting, had to find a way to stop Voldemort before it was too late.

For the next hour Y/n had occupied herself by carving things with her knife, she was quite good at it, she'd had plenty of practice. She had always been good with her hands, something she had in common with Voldemort. The dark lord appreciated that about her. She didn't know what it was about the other Death Eaters, but she had always felt like she was different. Maybe it was because she had been raised by pure bloods, maybe it was because she had been trained by Voldemort himself. Whatever the reason, she knew she was special.

She paused for a moment, glancing over at Harry, who was still sitting on the ground, looking defeated. She sighed softly. He really was pathetic. He was weak, and he would never understand the power and the glory of Voldemort. It was a shame, really. If only he could see the truth, maybe he wouldn't be such a burden on the rest of them.

But she knew better. Harry Potter would always be a thorn in their side, a constant reminder of the world they were fighting to create. And so, she continued carving her knife, sharpening it, preparing for the battles to come. Because she knew that one day, they would win. They would defeat Harry Potter, and they would have a world free of muggles and mudbloods. A world where pure bloods ruled, where the strong survived and the weak perished.

Harry, on the other hand, remained lost in his own thoughts. He couldn't understand how Y/n could possibly support Voldemort. He knew how evil the dark lord was, how many innocent people he had killed. But Y/n, she seemed different. She seemed to have some sort of connection with him that Harry couldn't understand. He wondered if it was because she was raised by pure bloods, or if it was because she had been trained by Voldemort himself. Whatever the reason, he knew that she was dangerous.

"Harry," she purred, "I'm bored come play with me" her voice echoed around the room that was filled with clutter and dust. "Come find me" Harry could practically hear the smirk in her voice as she spoke. He knew that she was dangerous, and he knew that he shouldn't go near her, but he couldn't help but feel drawn to her.

She was beautiful, in a dark and twisted way. Her long, flowing hair framed her pale face perfectly, and her cold, eyes seemed to glow in the dim light her body was toned and athletic. Even though he knew better, he couldn't help but be attracted to her.

Harry slowly rose to his feet, feeling a mixture of fear and curiosity coursing through his veins. He took a tentative step forward, his eyes never leaving hers. "Y/n…" he whispered.

She smiled, revealing her sharp, pointed teeth. "I've been waiting for you, Harry," she purred, taking a step closer. "I knew you'd come." She reached out and ran a long, slender finger down his cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. "You're so much stronger than you think you are," she murmured, her voice low and hypnotic. "And I know we can be so much more together."

Harry swallowed hard, feeling her touch sending waves of desire coursing through his veins. He knew he shouldn't give in to her, but it was as if he had no control over his own body. He found himself stepping even closer, feeling the heat emanating from her like a living flame.

"You're right," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. He closed the distance between them, his hands reaching out to touch her face, to feel her skin beneath his fingers.

She moaned softly, arching into his touch, her hips pressing against his. "Harry," she breathed, her eyes fluttering shut. "You have no idea how much I've wanted this." Her lips parted, inviting him in, and he couldn't resist any longer. He leaned forward, cradling her face in his hands, and kissed her.

Her lips were as soft as he imagined, but there was a fierceness to her kiss that took him by surprise. She tasted like blood and desire, her tongue dancing with his, urging him on. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the strength in her body as she held him just as tightly, their hips grinding together in a smooth rhythm.

"You've got to wake up Harry" her voice hummed wrapping around his brain, "Harry wake up!" His eyes flew open and met the pair standing over him. "Harry?"

He blinked and shook his head, "Wh-what happened?" He asked, confused.

"You fell asleep dipshit," She crosses her arms and huffs, "I was just going to ignore you but you said my name and caught my attention." She gives a sly grin, "Must've been a good dream then" Her friend chuckles next to her.

Harry blushes, feeling embarrassed. "Yeah, uh… sorry about that," he mutters, trying to collect himself. He glances over at Y/n, feeling a strange mixture of shame and desire welling up inside him. She watches him with those cold, calculating eyes, and he can't help but wonder what she's thinking.

"It's fine, Potter," she says, her voice neutral. "But if you're going to sleep and call out for me again, I'll make sure you regret it." She leans in closer, her breath tickling his ear. "Trust me, I'll take a knife and shove it in your throat" For emphases she takes hers and holds It to his throat. "And then I'll drink your blood while you watch." Her words send a shiver down his spine, and he can't help but feel a strange mix of fear and arousal at her threat.

He licks his lips and nods a little, still feeling the weight of her words. "I won't give you the chance," he manages to say, his voice barely audible. There's a long moment where they stare at each other, the air thick with tension and hidden desires. Finally, she pulls back, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Good boy," she says, her words going straight to his dick, sounding almost too pleased. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to look for shit I can take" With that, she turns on her heel and walks away, giving him one last look over her shoulder before they disappear into the crowd.

Harry was still very turned on by the time she came back with her loot and a crown sitting on her head like it was made for her, she took notice of it right away. She gave him a wink as she sat down next to him and began to unravel it, letting the gold chain slip through her fingers. "Look at this, Potter. Found it in the back."

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure as he looked at her. She seemed so confident, so in control. It was almost intoxicating. "That looks nice on you," he managed to say, his voice still shaky. "Very regal."

She grinned, showing off her fangs. "I know, right? It's like it was made for me." She leaned in closer, her breath tickling his ear. "I could make you feel like you were my king, Potter. If you wanted." Her hand reached out, tracing a finger down his cheek before coming to rest on his shoulder. "I could make you feel things you've never felt before."

Harry shuddered at her touch, his body responding to her words. He wanted to believe her, wanted to feel what she was offering. But a part of him knew that this was dangerous territory. "I'm not sure if that's such a good idea," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Her grip on his shoulder tightened. "Oh, but I think it is," she purred. "I can see it in your eyes, Potter. You want this as much as I do." Her other hand came up, cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing across his bottom lip. "And I can make you forget everything else, everyone else."

He closed his eyes, unable to resist her. Her words were like a drug, clouding his thoughts and making him want to believe that she could give him what he needed. He opened his mouth, allowing her thumb to stroke across his lips, and then, before he could think twice, he leaned forward and kissed her.

She pulled away for a moment, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she looked down at him. Her eyes were wide with desire, and her fangs were bared, glistening in the dim light. "You're perfect," she whispered, her voice husky. "I've waited so long for this." Then she was kissing him again, her lips moving over his face, tracing a path down his neck and collarbone.

He arched his back, groaning as her teeth scraped against his skin. "Please," he managed to say, his voice barely audible. "I want you." She smiled against his skin, her breath hot against his flesh. "Don't worry, Potter. I'll take care of you." And then she was undoing his pants, her cool fingers wrapping around his aching erection.

She stroked him expertly, her other hand moving up to past his shirt, teasing a nipple through his shirt. He felt himself growing more and more out of control, the pleasure coursing through his veins. He couldn't believe how good this felt, how right. He wanted to lose himself in her touch, in her kiss.

When she finally pushed him back, straddling him, he knew that this was it. He was hers, and he didn't want it any other way. She leaned forward, her breasts pressing against his chest, and lowered her mouth to his neck once more. He arched his back, moaning as she teased him with her teeth and tongue. Her hips began to move, slowly at first, and then with increasing urgency. He could feel her wetness against his skin, and the sensation was almost unbearable.

She looked down at him, her eyes hooded and dark. "You're mine now," she growled, her voice rough with desire. "Say it."

He looked up at her, his eyes cloudy with lust. "I'm yours," he managed to croak. "Do with me what you will."

She smiled, her fangs gleaming in the dim light. Then she leaned forward, biting at his neck. At the same time, her hips began to move faster, her body undulating against his. He felt the familiar tugging sensation deep inside him as she guided him closer and closer to the edge.

He gripped her hips, his nails digging into her skin, desperate for release. The pleasure was building inside him, tightening his stomach, making it hard to breathe. "Please," he groaned. "I'm close."

She smiled up at him, her eyes dark with satisfaction. "That's it, Potter," she whispered, her voice husky. "Let go." And with those words, he felt himself spill inside her, his body shuddering with the force of the release. As the pleasure faded, he collapsed back against the pillows, his heart racing and his mind reeling. He looked up at her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "That was just the beginning," she whispered. "There's so much more we can do together." Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and he couldn't help but wonder what she meant. Was she talking about the physical pleasure they'd shared? Or was there something more?

Before he could open his mouth there was the sound of rubble hitting the ground grabbing both of their attention. The Room of Requirements doors had just opened. Y/n looks down at him, "Looks like it's time to go potter" She licks her lips,"Catch you later"

Y/n Sits at a table in a cold dark room, her hair pooling around her shoulders as she spins her wand around in her hand, the other petting the snake that's draped over her chair.

A call of her name brings her back, eyes snapping to meet dark ones, "What is Your situation with Mr. Potter?" His voice sounded like honey in her ears. Such a shame he became such a massive bitch, he was one of the pretty ones.

She blinked at him owlishly before she seemed to realize his question, "Oh," She glanced towards Draco, their eyes meeting for a split second before looking away. "I have him wrapped around my finger, beck 'n call if you will, My lord," She says with a sly smile.

"Good"

Comment to be added to main taglist

#fypシ #writers on tumblr #y/n #harry #harry potter #draco #hp fandom #harry james potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #ugh i hate him

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whlfchn · 1 year

Text

~ masterlist ~

disclaimer: my writing is intended for entertainment and does not represent any real person! the writing in no way represents or portrays any of the k-pop members in real life, the names are used for purely fictional purposes!

english is my second language so there may be some grammar mistakes!

if there are any similar stories besides my own it's pure coincidence!

!most of my content is not suitable for minors! 18+ only!

to see all my writing make sure to change your content settings to see posts marked with sexual themes! read this post to learn how!

drabbles = my short writings, which usually have no real direction, or plot

s = smut | f = fluff | a = angst

BANG CHAN

first time | 3.8k ~ f, s

↳ established relationship, in which a late night visit turns into one of the first of many thrilling nights

drabbles

↳ [ 3:41 ] 1.1k ~ f, s

↳[ midnight ] 1.4k ~ s

LEE KNOW

possessive | 4k ~ a, f, s

↳ established relationship, miscommunication and jealousy arise which leads to the truth coming out and desires to be fulfilled

distant | 4.5k ~ a, f, s

↳ established relationship, in which lee know your boyfriend became distant and your best friend felix is there to comfort you, but one little misunderstanding can make or break your relationship

kitten | 3.8k ~ s

↳ hate sex! enemies to lovers? you two never got along and would always push each others buttons which normally would drive one another mad with rage… so why cant you simply walk away this time? why do you hate each other almost as much as you want each other?

HYUNJIN

first time | 2.4k ~ f, s

↳ established relationship, in which a late night visit at the dance studio turns steamy

HAN JISUNG

drabbles

↳ [ maid outfit ] 1.1k ~ f, s

JEONGIN

nsfw alphabet | 1.9k ~ s

↳ established relationship, an alphabetical list of smut

#masterlist

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myeagleexpert · 1 year

Text

The Cycle

Author's Notes: After centuries, here I am with another chapter of Ancient Humans AU, I'll keep a better frequency going forward. Thanks to everyone who read the first part!

Disclaimer: This fic is not intended to offend anyone or be sexist, let alone make the reader uncomfortable. It contains exaggerated archetypes and stereotypes for entertainment purposes only, the scientific information is real, and the steps are based on my own or my friends' experiences. Yuu is a girl here. Some swear words at the end….

Characters: Yuu, Professor Wamuro, Jamil, Kalim mentioned, Leona, Ruggie mentioned, Mob Pomefiore, Vil mentioned, Ace and Deuce, Grim, Malleus, Lillia mentioned.

Want to know what happened in the first part?:

-Now that we have been introduced to the ancient human species, we can look into new branches of more complex content. Going into human biology, we can mention the main and most risky one: the females.- At this moment Wamuro was changing from a renowned professor and strictly serious with references, to a fan of mythology.

Females have a slightly smaller and more curvy body, with the ability to give birth to life and protect the fetus. But that's expected, isn't it? - continued the professor - It was like that with most of us, the mothers who condemned the inheritance of their children, what makes them different you may ask.

Now that we're going to start, in order to have the magnificent ability to give birth, human females undergo a hereditary curse where not only do they bleed for days without any injuries every month of their two lives in order to be in balance, but in order for the cycle of life to continue. they must transform into 4 different people during a single cycle.- students leaned forward, pens ready to take notes and ears ready to listen.

-Let's start on page 20 Mr. Viper, please read it aloud.

“The ancient elders divided and named each process according to the “inner moons”. "The maiden phase" is the first phase of the cycle after bleeding, the pre-ovulatory phase, where the human female feels a lot of energy, productivity and is prone to taking the initiative. Being more willing and physically active. At this stage, it's ideal to take projects off paper and explore new things.” Where did Jamil see this?

“It was about four weeks ago....

When he saw the hard-working prefect of Ramshackle running up and down, full of paper to deliver, she ran so fast she didn't even notice that some papers fell forgotten on the floor.

Jamil sighed, he was on his way to give Kalim a review, in the depths of his heart he felt empathy for Yuu who turned excited when he called her name.

-You seem very busy today, what are these papers?- He gathered the papers and organized them, handing them to Yuu.

-Thank you Jamil! These papers are for Crowley to sign, a new professor, a speaker is coming and we don't even have a place to stay. These are for tomorrow's dorm leaders' meeting, these are the corrected Divus proofs from today's test, this is Trey's list for a new recipe for the upcoming Unbirthday party and…oh it's here! Scarabia's new stable will arrive, for you to sign Jamil!- Yuu spoke so fast that the deputy leader wasn't sure if he had heard right because…

-The approximate date would be for the next month, why will it arrive so quickly? - Suspicious, Jamil squinted as he received the papers. -Yesterday I was reading some documents and as soon as I saw that it was yours I decided to advance, I already spoke with the investors and architects, the elephants' rations will be placed in warehouse 04 so it's better to clean it soon, the new ones will arrive very agitated so already I ordered the tranquilizers too. Oh, another thing. A gift for you Jamil.

It was a strange little box, an “elephant-sized muffler”. How specific, huh.

-I was helping Sam with new loads and he gave me this headset as a bonus, as soon as I saw it I thought of you.

-Why?

-With more elephants, bigger parties and more noise, you should rest too.

-Thank you for your consideration and… what are you wearing?- Jamil finally noticed the outfit Yuu was wearing, a gym outfit and sneakers, all hidden by the uniform's black blazer.

-As soon as I finish here I'm going to train with Jack for a marathon and then Deuce will teach me how to ride a motorcycle, did you know that I always wanted to learn? Anyway, see you later Jamil, take care!

Jamil kept his facade calm, but inside, he tried to understand what happened. Yuu must be very busy today, maybe he'll bring her some warm food later. “

-Next.

-"In the full moon phase, the mother phase, the female is more sensitive, communicative, loving and they feel more attractive and confident. It usually occurs 10 days after menstruation. It is the ideal time to be among friends and family and to intensify social ties.” - The Heartsabull student read obeying Wamuro's quick command, between one nap and another the descriptions led the leader of Savanaclaw, Leona Kingskolar to remember a strange situation from a few days ago…

"Botanical Garden……"

“This was one of those Saturdays where the dreaded Leona Kingskolar would run away from his responsibilities like a lazy kitten in the top of a tree, Ruggie held back from complaining because the money filled his pockets. But their precious nap was interrupted by a sweet melody…

-Tonight love has arrived… .- sang Yuu, in a low tone as if thinking aloud, Leona could let it go, probably she was just doing some quick work and would soon be gone, so he thought. -Yuu, good morning! You're watering my house!- a small green fairy appeared among the bushes that the prefect was watering.

-Good morning Petunia, sorry for the intrusion.

- Oh okay- the little fairy wrung her delicate flower dress to get the excess water out- She really needed a cleaning, dear-

-Good morning girls, what a beautiful day…- an even smaller fairy, and sleepy, comes out of one of the watered flowers and rests on Yuu's shoulders snuggling into his shoulders.

-Oh how cute!

-Good morning, sweetie, where's my kiss?- A talking bird rested on Yuu's shoulders too, pecking lightly at her cheek asking for attention, something that was given without delay.

This attitude sealed the peace rosy world that Yuu had lost, because in seconds….

-I also want!

-Yuu a hug please!

-Yuu a little kiss on the fairy!

The girl without magic found herself on the ground, surrounded by cute creatures and innocent giggles, a sight that disturbed the beatsman's sleep, secretly envy and jealousy made him roll his eyes. With a low roar he jumped out of the tree interrupting the hugs and kisses from the care bears, a sight to behold but Yuu just smiled warmly.

-Oh, Leona? Good morning! We didn't see you there, sorry if we woke you up.

-It's so early in the morning for this kind of problem,- in annoyance, the big cat frowned

-Sorry, it won't happen again, okay?- as she gets up from the floor to greet his “friend” the whinintg animals, sad that their attention has been stolen.

-Tsk..just dont- Yuu quickly approached the beastman and hugged him, an action that caught him off guard, she was always affectionate but her hugs always came at the right time, now, it was like a blanket on a cold day interrupting any kind of of negativity that would dare come out of his mouth

The dreaded and lazy Kingscolar was proud of his image and the care he should have for it, but for a moment, he let himself be carried away by emotions and hugged her back closing his eyes, enjoying a genuine affection from the magic less hervibore, her aura clean soothed him and for a moment, he didn't want it to end. Hey, if anyone asks he can say he was trying to teach the freshman a lesson

-Anyway, I have to go now. Bye everyone, see you later Leona.- Departing from the beastman's arms yuu picked up the watering can and went to do his chores.

-Huh, what a strange herbivore..""

-Next.

“The premenstrual phase, the wich, is marked by hormonal changes and the beginning of an imbalance, it is normal for energies to decrease so that it is focused on preparing the uterus, your personality can become more sensitive when questioning the environment around you and self-charge increases . Period prone to bubbling emotions, so understanding is necessary.”

-Attention attention, now pay close attention that we are entering a more complicated phase, the calm before the storm, or rather, the terror before the storm. Their senses will be sharper, making them easier to provoke. some mythologies indicate the use of chocolates or sweets to maintain calm and well-being, some studies indicate that abdominal pain and discomfort already begin to manifest at this stage.

There was a well-drawn slap mark on the smooth, even skin of the Pomefiore student. He was proud of his effort and results, Vil Schoenheit himself had praised him. So how did he get that slap? Hint: he deserved it.

“It was three days ago...

The day was going to be reasonably good, high score in class, perfect skin, perfect hair but one detail, dirty mouth.

-Take it back, you arrogant bastard.- -Oh, me? I only spoke the truth, little flower.

It was a secret truth in NRC that the magicless student was actually…a girl. Like the one you shouldn't name, she was you know what, something you know what it is. A beautiful girl hiding in a disguise much bigger than her body, with a disguise and androgynous in an abandoned house. That alone would be enough for the prestigious school to find itself in some ethical scandal.

But some just didn't give a shit about those implications, and some discussions led to heavier arguments and uglier fights, "its only use is sitting on the laps of the dormeladers, no wonder it's getting what it wants slut" " just wait until I tell you find alone…” Yuu, as an intelligent and peaceful-sense being normally ignored these childish threats, but today, that Yuu is not in the domains.

-Joshua- cough cough-, I think now I know why you shower yourself with perfume like that… so much shit comes out of her mouth that your ass must be jealous. She's spreading that stench around.

-How dare you little mouse?- Moving closer and closer to her, Joshua at first critical became desperate to clear his ego

-Stay away Joshua, go shower and calm down- the girl covered her nose with her hands, simulating that her scent was strong

-Get ready you bich or I will!….- with his wand raised and aggressively dictating his magic the pomefiore student was about to fire a stench spell at Yuu, but stopped for a moment, “What would Vil Schoenheit do in this situation?” That chang his mind, an elegant exit would be more appropriate. - "You know what, I'm not going to waste my precious magic on scum like you, unlike commoner students without magic, I have a wand to take care of" -Joshua tried his best but couldn't deny that he was as hard-headed as she was, his disgusted face and snobbish posture was what Yuu needed to reach his final point…

-Do me a favor Joushua, stick YOUR FUCKING WAND IN YOUR FUCKING ASS AND RUN THE FUCK OUT YOU DISGRACEFUL KID!

At the moment he knew, he fuck up.

Yuu's smaller body shook with rage as he leapt on top of the handsome student taking him to the ground, letting his fury spill out as his fists slammed and kicked the bigger one, along with some rips in his clothing. Some students arrived to break up the fight, others to watch. He didn't let himself be a victim, he took her off him and started to slap her while she kicked the body on top of hers, a kick in the chest, legs and… aaaah, that hurt. The boys felt empathetic pain.

With this strategically thought out movement, the two separate and some students separate them and lift them off the ground. Josuha was discredited and that someone so low managed to have the audacity to pick a fight with him, some curses here and there, the students managed to hold the two even with difficulty.

-Get lost punk!- Yuu lets go and a well-placed slap was deposited aggressively on his face- One day is the hunt another day the hunter.- Looking furiously at Jousha's purple eyes, Yuu spoke his final sentence and left the hall Accompanied by Deuce and Ace, a monster cat even released blue sparks when Joshua reached for it again.

An intimidating expression stayed on Yuu's face the entire day, ready to attack anyone. But when she saw a cute video of kittens, she cried without a second thought as she devoured a box of chocolates, which soothed her angry womb.""

-I'll read the next one.- Wamuro interrupted enthusiastically.

-"Menstruation"…sorry students, my book doesn't have the last page, it looks like the letters were blurred. Anyway, I'll tell you from my memory and knowledge. - the final pages were so old, but so ancient, that the humidity of the air blurred all the letters, a disappointment for the professor, the book had been one of his first studies when the topic was forbidden, oh how much nostalgia it brought him.

-And finally, the day has arrived, at the end of the cycle the final phase, the crone, the apex of the uterus has arrived. Pains as strong as a heart attack, being forced to get used to this pain, the Females continued their lives normally until bigger crises arrived. Your body's blood starts to gush from its sacred place even though you are not hurt, your body is sore and exhausted from this monthly internal transformation, and in more detail I include: The most common effects of menstruation on the body include; abdominal bloating, fluid retention, mood swings, indisposition, nausea, general malaise, headache, back pain and terrible cramps, being able to squirm for days, in addition to several other unknown and very dangerous symptoms, but all for a purpose : generate a life.

The ancient females were, of course, great warriors.- the master concluded

This lecture caught everyone's attention, so much so that it attracted Malleus and Lillia to study. The most excellent professor Wamuro had explained that these "ancient humans" no longer exist, but the heir to the thrones could not help but notice the similarities between the ancient race and his beloved Child of Man, the prefect of Ramcharkle, and now that he has learned about the blood curse he is more worried about than ever. Oh, if only he had known sooner!

“The night before...

The young Master Malleus was wandering through the ruins around the school, when, instinctively, his footsteps led him to A Ramcharkle Dorm, his favorite place. Perhaps the mayor is still awake for an exploration together.

Upon reaching the courtyard, he couldn't detect Yuu's presence at the door…nor in the kitchen…but from the living room he noticed drops of blood, on the sofa, on the stairs… and in the bathroom. pain, warm cloths that Malleus assumed would stop the blood, a hemorrhage. As he analyzed strange packaged blood pads, was it a “first aid kit?” Since he found out that Yuu was actually a girl, he was careful and kept an eye out for any danger to the magic-less student, who knows what the horrible NRC students would do with that information. His fear started to show when he didn't listen. nor his feline companion, their meows and tantrums would be disturbing him now for opening the door without knocking. With his heightened hearing, he heard grunts of pain coming from above, in Yuu's personal room.

-I'm going henchman!- grim shouted as he quickly climbed the stairs with something in his paws.

-Quick Grim, help!

Malleus quickly followed the monster towards -Yuu's room, when Grim opened the door he saw a harrowing scene. His formerly cheerful Child of Man was now writhing in pain on the bed, his room a mess, and there was blood on his sheets.

-Yuu, what's going on? - Malleus' worried voice echoed in the room as he approached the bed.-Are you going to die? Are you hurt?

-Oh, Tsunutaro…- Yuu's voice was shaky, the only times Malleus called her by name was when it was a dangerous situation, like the fire incident with Rollo. She didn't have the strength to drink tea alone, so Grim supported her. his head and made him give the first sips. As he drank, his pains were…becoming more bearable.

-What magic potion was that you gave?- Malleus tried his best to remain calm, but Yuu didn't give any answers other than his low breathing.

-Chamomile tea. Yuu, here are the warm cloths that the ghosts brought.- gathering the tea and the warm cloths, his breathing was normalizing and his pains diminishing, until he arranged his position to talk to his dear friend, in a calmer expression while Malleus was forming dark, dark clouds on the horizon.

-What was the evil that attacked you Yuu?

-Whats up, Tsunutaro. You know, that thing arrived and I wasn't prepared.

-Who is “thing”, was he the one who invaded Ramcharckle and attacked her in her vulnerable state?- With his hand on his chin, Malleus thought of all the possible enemies that Yuu could have, thinking of a punishment for each one.

-Not him, she. Menstruation came really hard this month, I'm glad I have ghosts and grim to take care of me.

The feline purred on top of Yuu's belly who caressed it, the cat's vibrations eased its cramps. The truth is that this month Yuu was very overloaded, with tasks, with Grim, with her friends, with Crowley… who, in addition to not taking care of her health and ignoring the symptoms, forgot to set the day, causing a strong flow to arrive unexpectedly while watched TV with Grim in the living room. The ignored symptoms now insisted on being noticed, so much pain and stress and increased blood making Yuus turn from side to side in bed, trying to find the right position so as not to die of pain.

The ghosts had had experiences similar to these, so they taught Grim how to make the chamomile tea that Yuu always made and warmed the hot towels. But the powerful heir to the throne of thorns didn't know anything that was happening, he had never witnessed something like that, maybe ask Lillia later about this "menstruation" that attacked Child of man. His questions were dying in his mouth, he was confused, but Yuu was fast asleep.

-Do you feel better now, Child of Man?- Malleus approached Yuu, brushing the hair from his forehead and putting it behind his ear, feeling sad to see lines of dried tears, what a terrible pain.

-Getting better… little by little.- her confidence was so much in the fairy, that she didn't hesitate to keep her eyes closed, enjoying the calming effect of the chamomile

-I hope it doesn't last more than 5 days so you don't miss Henchman classes.

-Maybe it lasts all night Grim, but I'll be better tomorrow, as long as you bring me chocolates hehe.

-Anything, invoke me and I will help you, dear Child of Man- the fairy said goodbye leaving a trail of fireflies that gave Yuu a more cozy environment for a peaceful night.

As soon as he arrived in Diasomnia, he went straight to Lillia's room, who was playing some new game, when telling what happened the war veteran could not answer all the prince's questions, proposing that they go to have a meeting with the master in humans, Professor Wamuro , who coincidentally had a class the next day…

----------------------------------------------------------

Curiosity: This idea came to me when my brother saw me researching menstruation phases and he said "So you mean you are four people in a month? Who am I talking to now", this innocent question made me have the inspiration to do this fic. Curiosity II: The archetypes are different in my language to English, but they mean the same thing.

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dontmeantobepoliticalbut · 6 months

Text

Anti-LGBTQ+ Arkansas Gov. Sarah Huckabee Sanders (R) acknowledged that she spent $19,000 in state taxpayer funds on a lectern that she’s not even publicly using. She paid for it using a state credit card, and the Republican Party of Arkansas eventually reimbursed the state for the lectern, but only after a local blogger revealed the uncommonly expensive purchase.

While speaking to the press on Tuesday, Sanders explained that she would not be using the lectern, even though it was purchased specifically for her public statements as Governor, because the media would “talk about nothing else” if she used it for its intended purpose.

“I figure if you do [use the lectern], you [the media] would talk about nothing else than the important actions that we’re actually taking … which, unfortunately, is not surprising, that while we are focused on things that actually impact our state and impact Arkansans, the media wants to spend all of their time on things that frankly don’t,” she chastised reporters on Tuesday.

Sanders’ office purchased the custom blue and wood-paneled lectern from Beckett Events LLC in June for $19,029.25, “significantly higher than prices listed online for other lecterns,” KTHV reported. On Tuesday, she explained several features that may have added to its cost.

“In terms of specific features, the height of the podium is specific,” she said. “I don’t know if you noticed but women are traditionally shorter than our male counterparts. And so that makes a little bit of a difference…. It also incorporates sound components that make it easier to plug in for multiple media outlets at one time to get the best sound quality, I guess, possible, to relay back to TV and the purposes of that nature.”

In September, local blogger Matt Campbell revealed that Sanders’ office had made the expensive purchase. Sanders’ executive assistant and office manager Laura Hamilton has since been accused of altering an invoice for its purchase, writing an undated note that the item was “to be reimbursed.” Hamilton hasn’t revealed who allegedly told her to add the note.

Sanders’ office has also been accused of illegally withholding and redacting documents associated with its purchase. She has claimed that she purchased it using taxpayer funds as an “accounting error” and said that questions around its purchase are “nothing more than a manufactured controversy.” However, state Sen. Jimmy Hickey (R) has ordered a legislative audit to “get all the facts.”

Although the Republican Party of Arkansas reimbursed the state for the purchase, “A check from the party was not written until September, three months after it was purchased,” the aforementioned news outlet reported.

In March, Sanders signed a law prohibiting trans students from using bathrooms that match their gender identity.

In February, she signed a bill reclassifying drag performances as adult-oriented entertainment. In March, she signed a “Don’t Say Gay” law, banning classroom instruction on gender identity and sexual orientation before fifth grade, as well as another bill allowing anyone who received gender-affirming care as a minor to sue their doctor up to 15 years after they turn 18.

In June, a federal judge struck down the state’s ban on gender-affirming care for transgender minors, which the legislature passed before Sanders became Governor.

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holybibly · 5 months

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Divine Rosa ❢ot8xreader❣

❣ Pairing: yandere!otx8 x reader

❣ Genre: Dark Romance, vampire au, angst, horror, yandere au, smut

❣ Word Count: 10.1k

❣ Summary: The moth always pours itself into the flame; what a pity that in the end it burns out. After the tragic death of her sister, MС tries to find answers to the questions she left behind. This leads her to a gated cottage town known for its luxurious rose gardens. In addition, there are also these mysterious men who manage all the affairs in the city. Too sweet, too helpful, too intrusive, and too in love.

❣ WARNING: only!18+ Themes of death, suicide, severe depression, stalking, blood, yandere behavior.

❣ Disclaimer: I don't support yandere behavior, stalking, or religious imposition. Themes include violence, obsession, possessiveness, and emotional or psychological manipulation. This book is intended solely for entertainment purposes.

❣ Chapter 1: Memento Mori ❣

Have you ever thought about death?

How many times have you asked yourself, “What will happen to us next?” “Is there something on the other side?” “Will we see the shining light at the end of the tunnel and the white-winged angels, or is it just darkness waiting for us?”

We constantly reflect on this, sitting in the noisy company of friends, frozen for a moment in cold numbness; late at night, when there is no sleep and gloomy thoughts creep into your head; on the subway, bus, or taxi returning home from work or school, desperately understanding the desperation of their situation; recurring days in endless solitude.

We should stop doing that. When the time comes, we will ask ourselves other, more important questions.

Nevertheless, we tirelessly continue to be interested in it. Again and again, until our clock stops.

Sometimes I think all we have after we die are flowers and regrets. In our soul, heart, and mind, every second, there are many events that do not obey any rules of formal logic. All that we lose at death. There is no longer the privilege of choice that we had in life; now we have to settle for small, choking on despair and memories, staring into our own reflection on a silver epitaph.

“Our love will stay with her forever.” It would sound like a dream if it weren’t such a dirty lie.

I don’t think love exists. It’s like a sweetener: we feel sweetness, but the brain realizes it's fake, sending out red signals warning of deception. But we still desperately crave this feeling, however painful it may be.

And yet, after death, our lives go on, and in some special cases, we find ourselves more alive than ever before.

It's our time to watch as the new story unfolds, and the usual roles are played by other actors. New names appear on the waiting list, and celebratory ribbons are given to the new queens. See how fake diamonds sparkle in their luxurious crowns. Despite that, you’re the star of this show. Your name is in the news, in the bold headlines on the front pages of newspapers, and every casual passer-by claims to have known you personally while you still existed in a small, closed time period called life.

So what does it feel like to be the only spectator in the front row? The main subject of general regret.

In our cooled consciousness, a sharp conviction of our own uselessness is born and settles. Friends we used to call the best put your stuff in boxes with ribbons of tape. A family that tears the remnants of your life apart, erasing your name from the family register with a sickeningly straight line of black ink. Acquaintances and colleagues, always smiling with an astringent sweetness that glues their teeth, easily remove your number from the contact list and open their palms in a welcoming gesture to those who came to take your place.

All of them, all these people close to us, express their false regrets about your untimely departure, putting a tick in front of the memorized phrase: “Ah, we are so sorry. She was young and beautiful.” Is that what they usually say?

That’s all; our race for popularity is over. The rules of good manners and standards of appearance no longer matter. Your thoughts, actions, and preferences belong only to you, and at this very moment, we feel freedom. Short time, but still freedom.

It is only a short moment until the lid of the coffin closes completely over us. And here we are, face to face with our past, alone.

As hard as it may be for us to admit it, it's true. All that remains for us after death is regret.

Each of us has our own. Someone feels regret for the love that he could not protect and the loved ones that he has lost forever. We regret the things we’ve done and the words we haven’t said, but most of all, we regret the time we’ll never get back.

The dead mourn more than the living.

Besides regrets, we’re taking flowers with us. Yes, these beautiful creatures are leaving with us to one day wrap around our bones, sever the grayish subtlety of our skin, and grow again above the ground, eating us like a parasite.

The flowers also symbolize the grand finale of our celebration. When the music dies down and the curtain falls, they will be the only ones who will stay side by side while the guests leave the lavishly decorated hall one by one.

Have you noticed how many bouquets are brought to cemeteries?

I like to think of it as a peculiar payment for our rest. Maybe death is as in love with these deliciously fragile things as we are, and that’s why they’re leaving with us. Silent companions who hold our hand as we go into the darkness.

The path to the origins of the great Sanzu River is paved with bloody lycoris and mournful lilies. Truly a magnificent sight. Ugly and beautiful are two sides of the same coin.

When I was little, Mina told me many different stories. Some warmed my cheeks and stretched my lips in a happy smile; others were gray, like days with incessant downpours. I wrapped myself in blankets and warmed my palms with warm cups of herbal tea, but there were other stories that I didn't want to remember until now.

They were sinister, like a spider hovering on a web waiting to be sacrificed. The words were sharp; they pierced the skin, leaving long, stinging wounds. Meaning has always been terrible; like a blade in the tongue, it could not be swallowed and understood. I was afraid. I was scared to death. I could not sleep in the light of a bright day or in the mist of a starry night; in the coziness of the blankets, there was no warmth or protection, and the mocking laughter of Mina made it worse.

My grandmother scolded her and assured me that all this was nonsense, empty words, and legends formed from idleness, but I knew better. There was truth in Mina's stories, and the realization of this only made them scarier.

The most terrible of them was the story of a young man in black silk robes. Beneath the black veil was a sensual smile, and the fox's heterochromic eyes were alluring and sparkling like stars.

Was he a nine-tailed kumiho? A black reaper holding death itself on a leash? He may have been a vampire, desperate and thirsty, but personally, I was sure he was a ghost. A past woven into a single canvas, thread by thread, stitch by stitch. I think I saw him once, during the Lunar Festival. He was the center of my little universe, the otherworldly and inexplicable, his long black clothes flowing to the ground like a waterfall, and the diffused light of the treacherous moon embraced his silhouette like a caring mother’s embrace.

I thought the world was dancing around him. The children were running around laughing and circling like butterflies in the round dance; the couple were whispering nicely, their palms intertwined tightly, as if it would save them from the inevitable parting; and the others were simply enjoying the festival time, waiting for the sheaves of colorful fireworks to explode in the sky.

His eyes pierced my figure so greedily and sharply. I saw hunger in them. A thirst. A goal.

And then I screamed. So loud and disgusting in a childish way. With a shrill screech, I rushed into the crowd, hoping to find Mina. The colorful ribbons in my hair rushed into the air, and the wind bore me the echoes of his sweet laughter.

He was mocking me. I could have run, but he could have caught me in a second if he wanted to. For a moment, I looked back to make sure that he was still standing there, covered with moonlight and a myriad of stars, but the long, flowing silk of his black robes melted like a mist in the night without leaving a trace.

Mina laughed mockingly as I clung to the lush skirts of her violaceous hanbok, sobbing, choking with tears, and pointing my finger in the direction where I saw the young man with the fox’s eyes.

After that incident, I didn’t sleep for days, couldn’t eat, and was afraid of every noise.

From that night on, I began to believe in ghosts. They are among us. We can see them, reach them, and hear their whispering voices. Science cannot explain them; they are not subject to it. They are mistakenly called fictions, twisted forms of memories that acquire real outlines and are indistinguishable from the real world.

Science calls it imagination; I call it another form of life. Ghosts exist. They’re always there.

The line between the dead and the living is thin and fragile. If you push it a little harder, it’ll shatter.

It’s true—life after death exists.

I was told once that death is like being submerged in water. First, the lungs start to burn from a lack of oxygen; the body gets heavier; the eyes are baking, but we’re still conscious; and the brain continues to function. Then comes the next step. Our body desperately clings to life, continuing to contract the heart muscle. Bam, bam, bam. Deaf blows on the rib. If you start acting now, there is little hope of salvation. No more than a minute. And then, after that, there’s the final stage. Clinical death. Smooth stripe on the monitor.

Our sinking is over. We have reached the bottom. We have met eternity in the muddy depths, blended with the muddy sand and pearls.

That may be true, but for me, death is no more than a moment—until the last flowers on the grave fade.

I never thought about dying. Until it happens to Mina.

The first time I met death, it was with my first breath. I was born with silence—too small, too fragile, and painfully quiet.

Then there were the piercing sounds of medical devices and the screams of doctors and assistants. I was taken away instantly and carried far into the sterile, transparent box. Death retreated, but it didn’t go away.

I was only three when my parents died. Mina was squeezing my hands and talking about a long journey. Grandma took us to her old country house, where secrets were hidden and hyacinths blossomed. At the time, the very concept of grief was not clear and tangible to me; rather, the feeling was like frostbite, when the skin was already dead, but the pain was absent.

So I knew death before I even knew it.

My grandmother died suddenly. Her life was cut short in an instant, like a thread brought to the flame. I knew it; it seemed long before it happened. That summer, I was going to be at a ballet camp, and Mina was the star of the school, and she was planning on spending time with her cheerleading friends. Just one call changed all our plans. Short skirts and ballet points replaced chrysanthemums and black ribbons. Mina was grieving, taking condolences, while I watched from the sidelines. Grandma's leaving seemed like a dull pain from an old injury rather than a sharp cut, and it was easier to deal with than I thought.

This was the third time I'd known death.

And then Mina happened.

The passionate, bloody, grandiose Mina's death. By closing my eyes, I could see her face again. White, sun-drenched, and blood roses, her long fluttering eyelashes, and scattered carmine strands of hair.

She was not at all afraid to die, as if this scenario had been memorized by her. Isn't it an innate instinct, a fear of the unknown, of death? We are frightened by monsters under the bed and horrors lurking in dark corners. We must be afraid of death. We are obliged to do this from the very moment we are born.

Mina was not afraid. She was never afraid of anything, unlike me.

Spiders, darkness, roses…

The list goes on.

When she died, I realized two things: one, nothing lasts forever, and two, I wanted to know what happened to my sister and what became her trigger. Big red button. At my request, an autopsy was conducted to rule out a drug-induced hypothesis that could have caused mental and emotional distress. Forensics found nothing in her lungs except rose petals. Mina literally breathed flowers. It sounded almost fantastical to me. Even her death was beautiful. Forever the first violin in the orchestra.

The case of her mysterious disappearance was closed. There was no point in looking for someone who was already dead. I asked the detectives to continue the investigation, but despite my desperate pleas, the police were adamant. My sister’s once-radiant life was packaged in a pair of cardboard boxes with a large-scale signature in black marker. “An Mina, case 117”. With each passing day, everything about Mina sank into darkness, but the mysteries and secrets around her only grew larger.

Once upon a time, I could call Mina an open book. It was easy to read—all the emotions, character traits, and habits—everything in it was exaggerated; there was no middle. Her love was never a simple hobby; it was always sharp, risky, and passionate.

Perhaps that is why she so easily fell into an obsession with roses; her feelings took a dangerous path.

I wanted to know who gave her these fabulous roses, who sent her candy and little sweet notes. There was something wrong with all of this, and not just the fact that the lush pink buds didn’t fade. No. It was a feeling, something very ominous, like a calm before a hurricane. A frightening, unnatural silence when all is silent and the air is gathering in front of the thunder's stunning storms.

There’s a long, unrequited tranquility on the other side of the phone line.

In the Japanese language, there is the expression “koi no yokan,” which literally means the feeling of inevitable love for the person you first met. This is not love at first sight, but a premonition of future love. So it was with these roses; they were not evil as such, but they were the inevitable omen of his coming.

True evil does not come in the form of a little red man with sharp horns and a long tail. Evil is beautiful—almost religiously magnificent. His appearance is divine and seductive, attracting the sweetness of the forbidden. Of course, the Devil himself was once an angel. And not just anyone; he was God’s favorite.

So are these flowers. I’ve never heard of people falling in love with soft petals and spiny stems. No one ever sings strange prayers for roses and dedicates his life to them without a trace. Those roses were bigger than they looked.

I think that Mina’s death was not accidental; it wasn’t suicide. Something broke her, violated her mind, and eventually destroyed her. Whether they were roses or people who gave them, that was my question. It was a secret hidden in the white folds of her lace dress, the dreamy smiles, and the names she spoke with such awe.

During Mina's funeral, I was approached by one of the lawyers who handled her legal affairs. I had to sort out the property rights and the lots of pages with numbers, dates, and places. Mina left me not only secrets but also a great legacy. As it turned out, in addition to our common apartment, she had several other assets in her possession, including her grandmother's mansion, which at one time she received as a sole inheritance, shares in various companies, and investments abroad.

I am now the sole owner of all this.

I had no idea where to start looking for answers or where to find the keys to the secret locks. Maybe I can find something in her files between the lines and the capital letters, or maybe it’s all dry formalities. So, going to the lawyer sounded like a good start to me.

How many can hide from those who command our last will?

Even so, I didn't want to be alone with Mina's secrets if I could find something in her belongings. I decided to call Soomin, who was once Mina’s best friend, the closest, to be exact. She was always there, having fun and crying with Mina, supporting and comforting when needed. Soomin was an integral part of her life. My life.

After the incident with the roses, they split up, not on the best of terms. Their conversation completely ended, but I still continued to spend time with her, and we often went to brunch at various gourmet cafés that Soomin loved so much. She was an elite restaurateur and had great taste, not only in the interior but also in food.

In a way, she completely replaced my sister. Soomin always told me, “No orgasm can ever match a stunningly cooked fondant au chocolat”. Yeah, I could totally agree with her on that.

After dialing her number, I waited for an answer. The wait was not too long, and after the second tone, I heard the melodic voice of Soomin on the other side. “Hello” “Soomin, I'm sorry to distract you from work; can you give me a few minutes?

“Sarang? I can’t believe you finally called me. How are you feeling, honey? I’ve been really worried about you, you haven’t spoken to any of us all this time.” In her voice, there was a sincere concern that resembled a mother's.

Soo has always been so caring and gentle. In her was the same fascinating brightness that Mina possessed, which brought them very close and became the strong foundation of their friendship, but unlike Mina, who resembled a raging forest fire, Soomin was a comforting flame of home. One was ready to destroy everything around her; the other collected ashes in beautiful vases and kept them as precious memories.

After Mina died, she was there for me when I especially needed support.

“Sorry, Soomin, I’m still trying to get over it." I sounded exhausted, even to myself. The days spent in voluntary isolation completely drained me emotionally and physically. I was the alarm of danger light for my friends. “You know, when she went missing, it was hard for me, but I was still hoping she’d come back. I convinced myself that Mina was fine and that she was enjoying life surrounded by her favorite roses.” It was the first time I had spoken openly about my feelings since Mina’s death. “I never imagined that my sister would slit her throat in front of me. I still have nightmares, Soomin, but I’m calling you for another reason, I have a little favor to ask you.”

“Sarang, you should feel like this; it’s okay. What happened to Mina traumatized you; damn it, it would have traumatized anyone if they were you. We agreed to give you time to get over it at your own pace, but when you didn’t answer our messages and calls, we started to worry. Eun Jung even offered to come to you several times; you know how she is.” She was anxious, and I understood why. “I’ll help with everything I need; just tell me how I can do it.”

“You agree too quickly, Soo.”

“Sarang, please stop. The only thing I can offer you now is my help. I can’t imagine how you’re handling all this, and if you need my help, I’ll be there for you. So stop denying me and tell me what you wanted to ask.”

“Do you remember Mina’s lawyer who approached me at the funeral? I think it’s time I met him. It’s all about inheritance and property, but there’s something else.” I started off insecure. “I want to find out who sent her those stupid roses.”

“Why?” in her voice sounded like sincere surprise. “If you were me, would you want to know how it all started?”

“Probably, but aren't you afraid? Judging by how it turned out for Mina,” she stammered for a second. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.”

“No, you’re right. Absolutely. I’m scared, and if things weren’t so messed up, maybe I would have done something different, but listen, Soomin, I have a strong feeling that I’m always missing something, and it’s bothering me.” “People don't change so dramatically, and certainly not because of the roses. You've been friends with her for so long, so you know her as well as I do, and we both understand that it's crazy to give up everything in your life for roses like that. Especially for Mina.” When I spoke my thoughts out loud, I was even more convinced that I needed answers. It really was crazy. “ She left so many secrets that I want to find a clue. I haven't told anyone, but the roses are still being sent. I received a call from the cemetery administration saying that her grave was littered with flowers, and they needed to figure out what to do with them. Not only that, but I also received several bouquets.” There was no point in hiding it anymore. If I want Soomin to help me, she needs to know about those roses that were sent to me.

“My God, Sarang, you should have told me right away. Did you talk to JiHo? This is an abnormal situation. What if you’re being chased, Sarang? I don’t know, it’s all so scary.”

“You have no idea, but I don’t think we should talk about stalking.”

“Why? Maybe it’s a stalker or serial killer; you should be careful. Please tell me JiHo is living with you now.” “First, I don’t think anyone in their right mind is going to come after me, and second, JiHo and I took a pause.”

“Did you break up?” she asked with an incredulous echo.

“I'm not sure if you can call it a breakup.”

“God, the bastard left you. I always told you he was a rare asshole and would run away at the first opportunity.”

“Soomin, let’s not talk about it, but if you want to hear it, yeah, you were right about him.” The memories of our conversation with my ex were still fresh and festering in my mind like a ball of worms.

It’s very convenient to hide behind phrases like “let’s take a break,” “you need time to figure things out,” “emotional vacation,” etcetera. No one wants to be a part of your grief. At this party, the cake belongs entirely to you.

“Okay, let’s close the JiHo thing. Tell me, do you know anything about who sent the roses? Any ideas?”

“Absolutely nothing; I’m stuck. There’s nothing that can help. No address, no sender’s name, Maybe we can find something in her files or stuff; I don’t know.”

“Yes, it’s possible. When do you want to go to a lawyer?”

“This Friday, if you’re free?”

“Give me a minute,” the papers rustled on the other side, Soomin clearly trying to find the day she needed in her diary. Knowing the nature of Soo, it was difficult to make out anything there; her records were always chaotic, and careful planning was not her forte. In this, too, she was similar to Mina.

“I’m totally free. How about going to brunch first and then to the lawyer?

You could use some fun, and I’ve always wanted to go to this new trending place. I hear they serve incredible fondant au chocolate, and the owner looks like God cut him out. How does that sound? “First, tell me, are we going there for the fondant or the owner?”

“You can’t judge me; everyone’s talking about how attractive this man is; I just want to see.” Soo softly dissipated.

“Have you betrayed your love of chocolate for a man? Kim Soomin is something new. Anyway, everything sounds great. Let’s go and see if those rumors are true, but if I were going there solely for the chocolate,” I smiled at that thought. I’ve really been lacking in communication lately. We should start coming back to the real world. “Do you know the address?” “Sure, I’ll pick you up at 11:00. Please wear something prettier than a black dress.” “It’s a classic, and thank you again, Soo.”

“You have nothing to thank me for, Sarang. Finally, I can call you like that, you know, Rosa, it doesn’t suit you. I’ll see you Friday, baby.”

“I think so, too. Until Friday.” I put the phone aside, taking a deep breath. The long stems of white roses had folded in half in the cramped bin. A luxurious wrapping in a rare shade of Solferino and embroidered topaz ribbons lay next to the bulky pile, and a small note was shrunk into a perfect ball that was also lying in the trash.

Whoever sent those flowers should have stopped doing that. I’m not Mina. I don’t like roses.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

How quickly does the waiting time pass? We count the days, the hours, and the minutes until the exciting event we’re expecting, circled by a thick red line in the calendar, but is it really worth our time, which life has measured for us?

It's so strange; the days are like bottles of sand thrown by a restless ocean onto a flickering glass bank. I remember this one, crystal blue—it smells like strawberry cheesecake and summer heat. And this one, made of gloss and pearls, is full to the brim with grave earth and chrysanthemum petals. I like the one that sparkles with diamonds from the royal frosted glass; it smells like a lover’s pillow, and there are memories of the first love. There is another, very ordinary, and therefore the most precious—empty and at the same time full. If you open it, you can hear the gentle wind whispering your name.

My life is all about memories now. I’m just trying to keep what’s left.

The rest of the week passed unnoticed by me. Time, like the rapid trains at the station, rushed by, and I kept waiting to see the stop I needed in this incessant turmoil.

Existing in space is very simple when it belongs only to you. I did actions that were memorized to the finest detail, simple mechanisms that gradually brought me back to my normal state. Feed the neighbor’s cat. Do the cleaning. Go for a walk. Check the mail. Cook dinner. Ordinary things to take your mind off the colorful bottles on the shelves of consciousness and the endless cycle of nightmares.

And I also noticed that at night, time flows more slowly. Second by second, replace the glowing dial until dawn. And so on until the ruthless rays of the sun insidiously penetrate between the tightly woven threads of heavy boudoir curtains, and the golden shadow spills over the pampered skin like boiling water.

I think I'm allergic to the sun and, therefore, to the stars.

Maybe the whole world.

Today I woke up earlier than usual. Somewhere below the horizon, the sun splashed in the golden ichor of the predawn twilight. Yoru stretched out at the foot of the bed, warmed by tiny drops of warm light that seeped into the room through the window. Last night, she refused to leave, stubbornly ignoring my presence and my tender pleas to return home to her mistress.

Yoru was my neighbor’s cat, perfectly embodying all its best features: a slightly aggressive, capricious, and having a little bit of arrogance. Despite this, she had a strange affection for me and often stayed at my house if she was in the mood.

Other tenants avoided Yoru, considering her a bad omen, and it was not only the polished glossiness of her black fur; she always appeared where death later came. I didn't care; I've always loved cats, and having one of them in my house was a bit of comfort. I wasn't alone.

Sensing my awakening, her almond-shaped eyes flashed with the sharp color of precious stones in the slits of the eyelids—a thick amber glow, not yet warmed by curiosity or playfulness. Yoru tossed and turned, clearly unhappy that someone had disturbed her sleep, arched her back and closed her eyes again.

We could lie like this all day long, in silence and some strange harmonization. I’m sure she’ll get close to me a little bit later, calculating her every move, until he presses on his heart with a peaceful, relaxed purr. Unfortunately, today was not the day I could afford it. Soomin will soon be here, and I need to get a little tidy.

Shower. Food. Simple things. Jars of creams and neatly arranged lipsticks Are there certain rules of appearance when you go to a lawyer? What dress should I wear—a deep neckline or open legs? How decent?

Should I still look mournful? Should I wear a veil? Two months have passed; are other colors acceptable? What will he think of me?

So many questions were spinning in my head while I was going, and it seems to me that whatever I choose, it will still be inappropriate. The story of Mina was not a passing affair; probably everyone in the city had fleetingly heard about her death. One of my friends told me she was called “Queen of Roses” because of the flowers in her hair, and I saw the headlines of the “exquisite death” articles.

The black color dripped venomously to the floor with the long hems of the dresses in my wardrobe; the gray, like a mist, settled in the loops of cardigans and oversized sweaters; and the ghostly white terrified me with thin transparent lace and ruffles, just like on Mina's dress. The choice was not too large.

A jacket dress on a naked body made of thick matte silk, a little pearl, and a high choker collar with long falling threads, It was one of the old jewels I bought in a small antique shop. Vintage trinket in the style of Queen Marie-Antoinette. I had a whole collection of such chokers—some studded with precious stones made of expensive jewelry metals, others woven with the finest threads, like a skillfully woven web. Hard made of steel and leather, and soft, like angelic kisses, made of organza and velour. JiHo once said I had a choke kink if I liked things like that; maybe I did, but my ex was too “vanilla” to close his hands around my neck.

After getting dressed and styling my hair, I sat down on the couch and waited for Soomin to arrive. What should I do now? I was lost. Turn on the TV or read a book? Look at the news feed on Instagram; be sure to look at JiHo's profile to see his new photo. Does he miss me or not? Is someone else warming up his bed now that I'm not around? Is JiHo still wearing the same perfume as before, or has he found something different?

Anyway, I never liked his perfume; it was salty like tears and distant ocean breezes and rancid like decaying wood in the dense Amazon. He called them gourmet; I could only agree if they were worn by someone else, say someone more dominant and powerful. Maybe I would even find this strange, gloomy mixture of aromas attractive, inhaling it from someone else's hot skin and feeling with the touch of my lips a steadily beating pulse in the swollen veins on a strong neck.

How long does love last? Three years or more? For me, it's a moment; for others, it's an eternity. I loved him. It's true. Very strong and very long ago. My love did not resemble the indomitable elements or the explosions of colored fireworks; rather, it was the fragrant bloom of wildflowers and the scattering of stars in the sky. She was comforting, not passionate, and I wanted to see someone like me, someone who could comfort my heart and give me tenderness.

Tenderness and comfort alone were enough for me, but deep inside, I wanted something dangerous, something forbidden. I was devout, one of those people who are called “good girls,” but was it really me or the role that Mina gave me?

Maybe in the far corners of my mind, my thoughts weren’t as good and right as they should be. I didn’t even want to admit it to myself, but sometimes when I woke up from another nightmare, I was glad she was dead. Dark, reckless emotions made their way through my cracks; they were moments of despair as my anger lifted its ugly head and oozed poison and blood. My cruelty and hatred had the color of roses and smelled like chocolate. She had fox eyes and a seductive smile; desire flowed in her veins, and strangled thirst was heard in her voice.

In my nightmares, I saw not only Mina and bloody roses; sometimes there was a young man in long silk robes and a veil hiding his face. He's just a ghost; I met mine years ago, but somehow he seems more real to me night by night when he comes into my dreams without permission. He crept into them like a serpent-tempter into the Garden of Eden, slipping away at dawn like the shadow of two moons, hiding behind a door I could never open.

Unreal in my reality.

I felt the arrival of Soomin even before her long nails methodically began to knock on my door. It was as if the spell had been removed and all the sounds of the world had rained down on me in an instant. Yoru shook off her sleep and whirled around at the front door, waiting for an unknown guest. The clatter of high heels echoed in my apartment, slipping through the cracks of the door locks, and the thick smell of ambergris and blooming jasmine at night walked ahead of her, warning every one of her approaches. If I didn’t know better, I could easily have mistaken her for Mina. That was my sister once.

The whole world was just a part of her life; she was not part of the world. To be ordinary—what a bad form!

“Sarang! Sarang, open up. I’m here.” and in fact, her long nails caught on the dark wood of my front door, causing Yoru to bristle and hiss.

I was absolutely sure they wouldn’t get along.

“Are you awfully loud? Someone told you this, Soo?” I opened the front door wide, smiling softly. “I missed you, Soomin.”

“Don’t tell me about it; I missed that pretty face.” She hugged me, which made Yoru hiss again, attracting Soo’s attention. “When did you get a cat?”

“That’s not my, Yoru cat, my neighbor from apartment 1366, that door.” I waved my hand to the far end of the corridor, where Mrs. Lee’s apartment was located. “I like her; I don’t mind having the baby stay with me sometimes.”

“I see.” There was an awkward pause between us until Soo broke it. “You want to talk about… you know what.” She was worried about this topic; I could see it from the way she shifted from foot to foot, or was it from high heels? In the light of the electric lamps, the steel studs glittered like sharpened spindles from the tale of The Sleeping Beauty.

“Not now. Better tell me about this restaurant we’re going to.” Soomin was easily distracted if you changed the topic of conversation in the direction of a subject of interest to her.

I walked out of the house, taking one last look at Yoru. The cat didn't even think about leaving my space; he was already ensconced in a pile of pillows on the sofa in the living room. If she wasn't going to leave, I wouldn't force her.

“Don’t you need to return the cat to the mistress? She looks expensive.” asked Soo

“She’s a purebred Persian cat, and no, Mrs. Lee won’t worry about it; Yoru can stay with me for weeks before she comes home. This has happened before.”

“All right, if you say so.”

I shut the front door and turned the key, permanently cutting off my escape routes. Today. I have to do this today or my resolve will wear thin, and I will once again voluntarily isolate myself in the comfort of blankets and tightly closed curtains.

"And so, the restaurant..." This was the beginning of a long story that interested no more than random passersby in a faceless crowd.

“You’re going to love this place, I promise. Everything I’ve seen on their Instagram profile is so fascinating, but you know what makes this place really attractive? It’s the owner. Eun Jung was there last week, and she couldn’t shut up about…”

For the next 30 minutes, I heard about this trending establishment. “ Angels' Share” is the most requested boutique café in the last 3 months on all search engines. A luxurious café with exquisite dishes and a magnificent concept.

But most importantly, it is, of course, divine, and Soomin, the owner, was absolutely sure of this. Hundreds of girls lined up in endless lines from dawn to dusk, hoping to see him, at least for a moment.

On your first visit, the owner of “Angels' Share” personally serves you throughout your interruption there. Your name is inscribed in the book of exclusive customers in gold ink. Their main specialty is gourmet desserts, and if you are not seduced by the angelic face of the magnificent man who runs this place, then the sweets melting on your lips will do it instantly.

Full berries of scarlet strawberries in white Belgian chocolate. Mille-feuille with fresh wild berries. The devil's food is the most chocolate of all chocolate cakes, and, of course, the angel cake has the most delicate silk cream of exotic fruits.

As Soomin told me about it, she was clearly having an emotional orgasm. Her arousal was obvious, but I could not understand what she craved more: exquisite desserts or the sweet kiss of the owner.

“I think he's a real angel,” Soo finished her rant after giving a fiery speech about the unique beauty of a man she had never met in her life.

“I'm not sure if it's all true, Soomin, but you'll be able to see for yourself when we get there. You should not trust everything they say. You're too impressionable and trusting.”

We spent the rest of the journey in peaceful silence. This is the type of silence when there are a lot of questions in the air, but each side is not sure when to start asking them. I know she wanted to ask me a lot of things, and in response, I wanted to finally share my experiences and feelings that I had been desperately hiding for the past two months. Nevertheless, each of us remained silent, as if afraid to destroy fragile comfort with uncomfortable words.

When the car stopped, Soomin smiled approvingly at me, as if to say, “Go ahead, my girl!” She was good at it because she was also a cheerleader like Mina.

“Angels' Share” was impressive at first sight, and not only because of the long line of girls lined up in a perfect line and dressed in intricate clothes like collectible dolls on the shelf.

A myriad of flowers, lace, and feathers, pastel shades, and delicate ruffles—all of them looked like animated sugar fantasies. Their cheeks were dusted with pink blush, and their inflated lips were accentuated by a thick layer of transparent sticky gloss with a fine sprinkle of glitter.

Perfectly well-groomed hair is arranged in children’s cute curls or intricate hairstyles with hundreds of sparkling hairpins and velvet bows. The variety of their images was amazing, as was the height of their heels. This place was definitely something special if the girls were willing to sacrifice their comfort for a couple of desserts.

Or it wasn’t about desserts.

At such moments, I especially understood how much we needed someone else's approval. The list of items seems endless: he likes cute girls, girls with an athletic figure, pale skin, and big eyes; she should not be boring; my friends like her; she has long legs and a thin waist; and she is a certain height. I wonder if he'll use a ruler to measure me. Big boobs or a nice ass—which turns him on more? What will our first date be like? That's right; should I call him Oppa or not? Tell me what you want, and I will fulfill whatever you want. I will fulfill every one of your fantasies. Tell me about your desires.

Seduce me. Surprise me. Love me!

I don’t want to live like this. I want to be who I really am, with all my flaws and imperfections. I want to be sharp and rude; I want to be cruel and honest; I want to look as I want, without colorful tinsel and layers of makeup, with cellulite, stretch marks, and a little overweight. That may be so, but it will be me. Just me.

The voice of Soomin ripped me out of my mind.

“I told you so,” said Soo smugly, purposefully heading for the entrance, circumventing a string of discharged girls. She was a lioness on a hunt, while they were stranded in colorful piles like scared rabbits.

If you do not pay attention to the girls, the exterior is fascinating. Gold, flowers, and crystal resembled the frame of a precious box. “Angels' Share” was positioned in such a way that the sun flooded it from all sides, creating around it a mysterious golden haze of sunlight and a dazzling iridescent play of crystals.

Everything was so beautiful, I won't deny it, but didn't the gingerbread house beckon the children deep into the dark forest where the wicked witch lived? Everything beautiful always has a downside, and someone knows how to mask it better than others.

While I was looking at the details, Soomin dragged me inside and was already talking to the host girl, who was checking the records for a long list of names. She also, like the girls on the street, looked like a doll. Her hair was long and shiny, tucked away from her face with an embroidered rim with Swarovski crystals, and her eyelashes were so lush that they touched her cheeks when she blinked. I would call her beautiful; she licked to perfection, which made it almost unnatural. She had a sweet, high-pitched voice and an overly friendly smile. Annoyingly friendly.

“Please follow me; I'll show you your table. Since you have visited us for the first time, Mr. Yoon will personally take care of you today. Please enjoy your stay at “Angels' Share.”

YooA—that was the name of this girl—led us up the spiral staircase to the second floor. It seemed that everything around was carved from pale golden marble, with the addition of luxurious interior items and thousands of flowers—or, to be more precise, thousands of roses. Snow-white, cream, pastel pink, and soft peach—the whole space breathed rose buds that stood in tall transparent vases.

The sight took my breath away, and I was inwardly tense. It's okay; it's just a café, not Mina's apartment. You need to relax and not start panicking; it will not benefit anyone.

As if sensing my growing panic, Soomin squeezed my palm.

“Are you all right? You look pale.”

“Yes, it’s all right; there are too many roses for my taste; you know, it brings back memories.” I smiled tortuously in response to her words. I didn’t want to ruin her day; she was so excited and happy when we came here.

“We can leave if you are not comfortable, Sarang.” Soo still held my hand, gently walking her thumb over my palm in a comforting circular motion. “If you want to go somewhere else, this is fine. I can always come back here later.”

“No!” came out too loud. “No, I’m fine. I can’t wait to try their chocolate fondant. You know I’m here only for chocolate.” She said the last part with me in one voice.

YooA showed us our table, although it was more like a small loggia separated by airy chiffon tulle and pearl threads from the common room. I could easily fall in love with this place if not for the languid, enveloping smell of roses and the beauty of their lush, perfect buds.

“Do you think the rumors are true, and we'll see an angel appearance today?” Soomin leaned across the table to talk about the owner, not so obviously?

“I think you'll find out about it now, anyway.” I couldn't finish my thoughts, interrupted by Soo's enthusiastic sigh. It was a sound of undisguised admiration that she couldn't hold back, even if she tried.

The reason for her excitement was right behind me, and I had to look back a little to see what it could have been.

Of course, all the sounds of delight belonged to none other than Mr. Yoon. In part, I could understand why he was called angel-like. His beauty was painfully perfect, to the point where it became almost terrible. His face was beautiful—almost obsessively beautiful, like the face of a stone goddess on a grave. Surreal. The skin seemed to glow from the inside, like molten silver flowing through the veins. He had long hair—ashes, platinum, mother-of-pearl—everything mixed on a diamond cloth. One silvery strand fell delicately over his face.

Are the melodies of an angelic choir in the air, or does it just seem that way to me?

The more I looked at him, the more his appearance disgusted me.

I felt flawed and unsuitable, like a puzzle that did not fit the picture; my heart did not beat faster with excitement or sweet agony; I did not burn and did not desire it as it should. Between us, it was possible to draw thousands of parallels in a myriad of universes, and none of them ever intersected. Beauty is deceptive, like a serpent promising forgiveness. It’s the pain of a bittersweet injection entering our nervous tissue.

What do we know about them—angels? White-winged light bearers, without flaws and ignorant of evil and vicious desires, are submissive and faithful to their ideals and purposes. Silent watchers who look after our virtue. But there are those who are chained and silken, whose wings are torn out with bloody flesh, for they are sinners.

Their name is the fallen. Unforgiven.

He was not an angel. He was one of them who traded the vaults of heaven for the flames and steel of the nine circles.

His presence was heavy, stifling, and sharp. Goosebumps ran through my skin as an omen of the imminent end.

I could have sworn that the second our eyes met in his eyes, the color of dark bitter chocolate, anger, and disgust thickened. So everything that is perfect collapses, falls, beats, and crumbles like the great walls of Babylon, kissing the transcendental peak of heaven. Like a Venus flytrap, his appearance was a clever disguise of vice and rot in a velvet cage of flesh, and this place is the very gingerbread house that beckons to certain death.

“Welcome to “Angels' Share”. My name is Yoon Sung Hoon; I own this place, and today I will make sure your stay here is unforgettable.” The voice flowed like honey smoothly and gently, I could melt at this tone.

“I am Soomin, and this is Sarang; we have heard a lot about this place.” Soo’s cheeks were pink from a shy blush, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say she was embarrassed. This man was clearly something special, if he could make Soomin behave like a schoolgirl in love with just his presence.

His eyes rested on my figure for a second, and I wanted to shrink into a ball under this appraising gaze, as if he was trying to probe me and understand how dangerous I could be. It was only a moment, and then a smile shone again on his angelic face.

“I hope you’ve only heard nice things about us. What do you want today?” I wonder what he is used to hearing in response. I want you and your love, and I will accept everything you would not give me. Will you be my boyfriend? My husband? Will you give me eternal love? Judging by the expression on Soomin's face, this is exactly what she wanted to ask him, but she pulled herself up in time.

“I want to taste your best dessert.” As they say, kill them with your sweetness. Where has my self-sufficiency and t.” As they say, “kill them with your sweetness.” Where has my self-sufficient and confident self gone? Soo, this blushing mess was nothing like hers.

“Of course, only the best is for you. And what do you want?” All his attention was now drawn to me, and I had no pleasure. Yoon Sung Hoon is clearly not used to girls not falling at his feet like moths hitting the glass. Our dislike was mutual. Our dislike was mutual. “What do you want, Sarang? I would recommend one of our most special desserts: a white chocolate soufflé with candied scarlet roses.” Sung Hoon was smiling, but not at all benevolent; there was something mocking in the exquisite curve of his lips, as if he were challenging me: “Come on, try me.”

Roses. Those damn roses again. It always came down to these flowers. Were they my path leading away from the dark forest, or would they lead me straight to the crystal coffin in the tallest tower of the castle?

Instead of politely refusing, as a true lady should, I have given a crude, hoarse, and utterly evil speech:

“I hate roses.”

For me, flowers are as beautiful as the pain of a broken heart. You can call me a heartbreaker. What will your heart taste like? I'm so eager to try it.

“My apologies.” Sung Hoon bowed his head, hiding his gaze in the lace of fluttering eyelashes and platinum bangs. With this simple action, Soomin once again made a barely audible, enthusiastic sound. “In this case, I offer you our signature chocolate fondant with raspberry jam and glass caramel glaze. Our clients say that he has a heavenly taste, so celestial that he can be sinful.”

Sung Hoon—there was something about him that disgusted me. His way of speaking, his appearance, his behavior—in general, every detail of it The most beautiful apple on the branch will always be wormy. I couldn't understand how he could charm girls in a split second, without any effort, as if it were in his blood—to cause desire and awe.

During our short conversation, Soo did not look at me once, inseparably studying every detail of the angelic man. If I make an incision in his skin, will the gold pour as befits angels, or will it be the viscous and black acid that Pandora once shed from her eyes?

I didn’t like it here. I didn’t like Yoon Sung Hoon, and he probably didn’t like me. How was I in his eyes—insignificant, puny, ordinary? Our dislike was mutual but totally unfounded; I just knew I didn’t want to be in the same space with him. I can’t breathe.

Guests always leave after dessert. I didn't want to linger, so I agreed to fondant. “Okay, I'll take fondant and cappuccino.” I looked at Soomin again; her thoughts were clearly elsewhere, judging by the bitten lower lip and flushed cheeks. “And matcha latte, please.”

“Of course, ladies…” With this phrase, he finally left us, and I sighed deeply.

“I think I'm in love, Sarang.” Apparently, with his passing, Soo’s brain has resumed active activity. “He absolutely justifies all the rumors about him.”

“Yeah, I can agree with that; he’s definitely something very special.”

After Sung Hoon served desserts and another 10 minutes of heated discussion of his appearance, our conversation took its normal course. It’s like ping-pong; the rules are very simple: move from one question to another, follow the theme, and don’t miss your turn. “How's the work?” “Everything is fine.” “How’s your boyfriend?” “You remember I told you we broke up?” “What have you been doing lately?” “Too much to do; I can’t remember, but recently I came back from Japan”, “Did you like it there?” “Great seats and great cuisine.” “How do you feel, Sarang?” Say it again; I didn’t hear you.

“How do you feel, Sarang?” Once again, you speak unclearly.

“How do you feel, Sarang?” It's so loud here, I can't hear you.

“Sarang?!” Can I skip my turn? I’m tired of this game.

I took a deep, slow breath.

“What do you want me to say, Soo? Something that will calm you down or something that should comfort me? ”

“Truth, Sarang. I want to hear the truth from you.” Soomin looked at me so carefully that it seemed as though she was looking straight into my soul.

My mind moved from one thought to another, not knowing what it would focus on. Truth. What is it like, this truth? She is like a beautiful, spiritually disheveled monster with a lesbian couple of black widows in an aquarium; she exists in an endless eternity of joyful decadence and an ecstatic nightmare.

It’s no big deal to tell someone the truth, but are you ready to see your own reflection in someone else’s eyes? They say alcohol is a liquid truth, but I think it's nothing more than a road strewn with bread crumbs, straight into a dense, dark forest. The more you drink, the deeper you go. Sometimes, through the intricately woven stems of condemnation and bitterness, subtle rays of understanding break through, like the light shed by the dual face of the moon. But this happens so rarely that the eyes themselves become accustomed to the surrounding darkness.

I’m still afraid of the dark and, therefore, of the truth. Now I’m sure I’m allergic to the world.

When I looked at the café, I noticed that there were many more people. Bunny girls with colorful barrettes occupied small transparent tables filled with all sorts of desserts; others, similar to porcelain dolls, put their palms to their cheeks, flushed with embarrassment, and laughed loudly, sitting in the same loggias as ours. The sounds of clicks from selfies and aesthetic Instagram photos did not subside for a second, as did the high play of voices merging with soft background music.

This probably wasn’t the best place for such a serious conversation, but was it ever the perfect place to have a heart-to-heart?

“Honestly, I don't know. Really?” I began, stirring the thick, fragrant foam from the cappuccino. It tasted like a first kiss—a little bitter, a little sweet—something that I would like to repeat again and again. “Secrets, secrets, and more secrets—everywhere I look, no matter what I ask, they only get bigger. Everything is as usual: Mina died, and the world is still spinning around her. Remember, I told you that they still send roses? I can say that soon the cemetery will start selling bouquets because there is simply nowhere to put them. Every day there are fresh flowers on the grave.” Maybe I sounded a little petty and annoyed, but I didn't care. “I may not seem like the best person on this planet, but sometimes I feel absolutely happy that I finally managed to bury her in the ground.” Yes, this is exactly the right moment; you are not mistaken. That was my truth, like salt and pepper, like ashes, like burned dreams.

Soomin shook her head negatively.

“You shouldn't talk about yourself like that, Sarang; you're not a bad person, and we both know it; everyone around you knows it; and even that bastard JiHo knows it. You have gone through a lot, and if I were you, I would have gone crazy long ago, but look at yourself: you are here with me, in the noise of the metropolis, and you have your whole life ahead of you.” She put her hand on top of mine, and the warmth of her body penetrated mine. “Mina was who she was, and neither you nor me nor anyone else could change her. So don't let her ghost poison your life. I'm not a fan of this entire Nancy Drew thing, but I won't dissuade you. If you want my help, I'm on board.”

I laughed bitterly, taking a sip of the coffee that had already cooled. There was something special about it—sweet, ice-cold coffee, like long-cooled love.

“Yeah, you’re right; she was who she was, but I guess we were wrong about that because those flowers broke her in half. In fact, that’s the whole point of the question: where did the roses come from? She was interested in nothing but flowers and some strange prayers. She frightened me. You know, at first it looked like another love of hers; everything was as usual—she talked incessantly about flowers and admired them, but the more roses they sent us, the less she was interested in the rest of the world. Mina withered and languished while the roses bloomed. I've never seen anyone come to our house or meet someone. Nothing, just roses—hundreds of roses. You just can't imagine how many there were.”

“You know, I don’t really want to imagine it. Okay, let’s say you find something in her files. What’s next? You really need this? Maybe we should just let go, you know, scatter the ashes to the wind.” Breaking off a slice of angel cake, Soo mooed in satisfaction as the dessert was in her mouth. “Mmm, I love sweets. Who handled her legal affairs? If this is one of the free lawyers, we should hurry; the queues in these cantors are worse than here.”

“No, no, we're not going to a free advocacy team. Wait a minute.” I pulled out of my purse a small card from a thick black cardboard and handed it to Soomin. Transparent gloss on a soft matt surface looked refined and very expensive, just like the business card itself. “Silver & Black LTD” was the name of the law firm that handled Mina’s affairs.

“You’re kidding me!” She exclaimed, almost burying her face in her business card. “That’s “Silver and Black.” How did she manage to work with them? They’re one of the most elite law practitioners in all of Seoul, and I’d say across Asia. Their lawyers are real sharks in their cases; for the existence of their practice, they have not lost a single case, and the bills for their services are simply cosmic. How does she have so much money? Sarang, did you inherit her sugar daddy too? If that's the case, ask for more; you're much more expensive than a cheerleader, and nerds are always sexier and more desirable.”

“Stop saying that like I’m a whore. I don’t know where she got the money, but are their services so expensive?” My surprise was obvious. Our family was not poor, but we were not rich; we occupied that golden layer in the class hierarchy where we could just live without any worries about tomorrow. Mina and I were well provided for, but judging by Soomin’s reaction, “Silver and Black” could afford only filthy rich and influential people.

“If I were to be offered the opportunity to trade my virginity for cooperation with them, I would have done it without hesitation. Are you sure we have an appointment with them?”

“Soomin!” Frankness was always such a simple thing for her that I felt awkward at such moments. “Of course, I called them yesterday to confirm the details.”

“What? The cult of virginity is overrated anyway, but now I'm much more interested in it.”

“Let me think, more amazing men?” “How did you guess?” Soo smiled sweetly, shoving another piece of dessert into her mouth. I snorted; I couldn’t help it. "Hey, don’t laugh! You should also consider new options, since you and JiHo have broken up. Listen to me, little Sarang, nothing will warm your bed better than a hot big boy."

"Ew, Soomin." She just laughed back.

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