#yohan seo

[lexxiie]

Hiiii, may I make 2 request?

1. The Angels of Death comforting their s/o after they wake up from a nightmare

2. The Angels of Death comforting their s/o who is scared of thunder?

I'm sorry for making so many requests but I really, reeeeeaaaally need more of Sahan 😭

Anon, I love you and I love both requests but they are both similar so I’ll merge them if that’s okay with you.

HERE IT IS

[greenapplebling]

Me: I love my blorbo sm

Friend: Yes I know

Me, who talks about blorbo 24/7: but do you?? DO YOU??

[tsuukirana]

𝟎𝟑 | 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓

You were the shining light that brought upon him a hope that others could only receive by worshipping a higher being, but here you are, in front of him, guiding him, and loving him. You were the inspiration for something so great that you might describe it as world domination, but Yohan Seo would say he is surrendering it to you.

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈: 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 

𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

“I. . . don’t know.” He said, staring off into space as he was left to rot on the cold ground of his school. He could smell the awful scent of metal through his battered nose, the long strings of crimson leaking from the ends of his nostrils like trickling water. The warmth that had been contained in his body was slowly pooling out, the color growing dark as it dried with the cold winter breeze. He was unable to feel the pain that came from another man’s fists, but he wished it could have stayed that way for long. A bruise quickly bloomed on the side of his cheek, the skin fading into a sickly purple color that stained his snow-white skin.

For a fraction of a second, he felt lightless. It felt as if he had drifted off into the open skies, flying alongside the soft clouds that brushed against his numb fingers. It felt like a new home, a place in which he could share his struggle quietly alongside those who drifted close to him, never too far away but never too close to him. He wanted to stay there for as long as he could as if he even had a choice in that matter. Though his hopes seemed short as he was ripped from the skies and brought to the harsh, cruel reality of his circumstances. It faded away like snowflakes, he always thought, perhaps it was hopeless and foolish of him to even consider the possibility of escapism. 

Could this have been his punishment? He wished to know so desperately that he sought out the answers through any means possible despite his anguish. What could he have done in his previous life to deserve growing up in an unloving home, one with no arm to run into, or joyous eyes to look into, where else could he have been instead of here? The only thing he thought he had for himself was his looks, and it made it slightly easier on him to seduce local women into giving him a grain of food, but it was almost near useless to boys who were twice his size, and double in muscle. Such thoughts led to him feeling rather empty on the inside, with his bones rattling with every movement of his body and his face much too damaged to see any light within those eyes of his. Deep within, there was a void that was growing. It was insatiable as it devoured anything along its path. He didn’t know what he could do to fill its rumbling hunger, and it was beginning to eat away at his flesh from inside.

“This fucker, you really don’t know what you did wrong?” 

Of course, he didn’t. He never understood what he had to do or done to deserve such a punishment. He just did what was told and if something were to steer off course then it was never his fault, he never intended for it to be that way and yet God played the wrong cards to him. His classmate swiped at the smoke that was radiating off of the tip of his cigarette, his annoyance grew deep when his questions were constantly met with the meek boy’s voice crying out in confusion. He just wanted a simple answer but perhaps he has grown likeful of the regretful apologies and empty line of words that the boy spattered. Though he could also argue that such a response made him rather peeved. 

His friends only dug his hands deeper into his pocket, dissatisfied with the course of action the boy chose to take. His eyes glared down at the pitiful student who leaned the weight of his body against his skinny, trembling arms that threatened to break underneath it all. The sight was horrific, he thought to himself, but he couldn’t help but bury himself deeper into his ego, shielding himself from the thought that one day, he might end up like that as well. To him, this boy was nothing more but an example that everyone took part in setting. He refused to back down on the creation that he made, and he would hold his head up high if it meant that he could avoid a similar fate if he were to speak. “This is a problem, whatcha’ guys gonna do?” 

“I don’t know either.” He replied, making a look of disgust with his brace-covered teeth before he rose to his feet. For a split second, he raised it high enough to slam against the shoulder of the black-haired student, “I’ve beaten him up for one year and I still don’t know.” His tone was one of mocking, his smile never caving in just once for a moment of pity. The boy coughed in pain as he moved forward, shielding his head with one of his weak arms for however long his punishment lasted. 

“It feels fucking good to beat this fucker up!” Such words echoed in the halls that they began to ring in his ears like a never-ending church bell, one that was too loud and lasted too long. He grits his teeth as he struggled to pull himself together, trying to keep his body from splitting apart from the inside and outside. 

He was wincing with every hit and swore in his mind that he couldn’t take any more. His hand was laid outstretched on the empty ground for a moment, allowing someone else to take the opportunity to crush his vein and knuckles with the heel of their shoe. Blood decorated the ground like spilled wine, the color dripping into the cracks of the white school ground. It moved across the floor like a snake, dragging itself pitifully in an attempt for safety. 

Streaks of hot tears poured out of his eyes, leaking like an overboiled tea kettle threatening to break. He was unable to raise his arms to continue shielding his face from any more bruises, his body much too weak and fragile to keep up a strong façade. His skin was breaking apart like sheets of paper. His being was soaked in water to bind himself, only to be dried out in the hot sun to become brittle sand that was close to breaking apart like the castles near the ocean waters. He was a fragile being that was simply made to be glued together and broken, a disfigurement to the body of a human and a disgrace to those he encountered.

. . . And yet it seemed like God had finally rolled a seven.

The other students rushed out of the halls with curses dripping from the edges of their lips, the smell of tobacco whiffling through the air as to remind him of who came before. They dispersed like mosquitoes who were caught sucking blood, their wings flapping behind them as they eagerly fled the scene. And though his eyes were bruised beyond his own beliefs, he could barely make out the sight in front of him.

What was left of the scene was a pair of shoes that stood in front of him, one that was fairly average size with legs that were of feminine stature. And while he wished he could bring himself up to his feet to meet them at eye-level, he stayed resting on the ground, finally able to catch his breath after all this time. He could hear the girl huffing alongside him as if she had run a marathon across the school, her breaths coming out shallow but her voice stood locked in her throat. 

She knelt on one knee, bringing herself down to his level. Through the cracks of his eyes could he see the beauty that she radiated up close. Her eyes were shining so brightly with life, he said to himself, it was so sweet that he swore that it was alluring. It could have been a secret made by the two of them, for him to see such captivating eyes. She brought her hand in front of him, looking at him with not the cruel hatred that he had grown accompanied to, but through her (e/c) orbs did she express her pity and sympathy for him. Her (h/c) hair leaned itself forward, spilling over her shoulders like a stream of water. These locks became something he yearned for later in life, he wished to continue seeing the way the cold breeze broke apart the masses to allow her strands to swing peacefully alongside its wind. 

Could it be that God had finally listened to his pleas? He didn’t have the strength to believe that this was real. Was this an angel sent down to dispose of him or were they here to deliver a message of salvation? Whatever the case was, he was glad to see that there was at least someone who had noticed the silent cry that emitted from him. For a moment, such thoughts led to him feeling a sense of disgust flowing through his veins, but it quickly dissipated when she smiled so whole-heartedly.

“Are you okay?” Her rosy pink lips said, with a voice so soft and gentle that he could swear that it was a bird’s song. 

[akirayuri]

Never in my whole life of 16 years (iyyy!! Today is my birthday!!)) Have I thought I will sympathies with the Villain of Unholy Blood.

But here I am. Yohan is living rent free in my head.....not only sympathies, I fucking rooted for him subconsciously. That fucker messed up, but he ended up setting up a well crafted stage where he played the Villain and made Hayan the heroine. That's what he did in my eyes. I don't know if l read in between the lines or people are just blind to see, but whatever he did until the end was a goddamn set up for his grand suicide plan.

I have said it before and I will say it again.

Yohan fucking Seo was a suicidal psychopathic Maniac. You can not change my mind.

That basterd lured the beast knowing full well he will be killed. And he did it deliberately.

Everything from not sending the angel of death in a group to Euntae not finding anything suspicious on Yohan's head office.

He never planned to control the humans turned vampires. Hell they never turned vampires to begin with. He only planned the vaccines. As you can already guess, that fucker lied his way to his death door.

If you have any doubts about my theory, reread the manhwa, there is clearly written that there was nothing in his office that indicates that he was going to hypothesize the public. This is on the last chapter. Euntae admitted this to Vael. In response Vael comments how much of a complicated guy Yohan was. (My fujoshi head jumped into conclusion right after....damn the author for installing my shipper head into a heterosexual romance with homosexual ships, what the fuck...)

The other question-"was he really suicidal or only petty little shit?"

Yes, he was suicidal. It hinted, back to back how much he wanted to die.

From the conversation with Levi on the episode where they had well...you know what I mean...to his repeated dialogues to Hayan, saying only to hate him. Because if Hayan does not hate him, if she becomes soft, he will do the unimaginable. And he will have to weigh yet another guilt through his whole life, there was no one capable of killing him other than Hayan.

I hope that clears up.

In my eyes Yohan was a character who made the world his stage and the people in it his puppet, only to for him to die and give Hayan a normal life. (Liam, is that you...?) I don't know what the author had in her head when writing his character, but whatever she did was fantastic if not only neglected. If only she had focused more on the characters and the story Yohan would have had a better ending. Focused on shipping and fan service had this story going. His character was made to be more complex, it was clear. The author might have neglected while rushing the story with a satisfying ending.(the end was descent, but not anticlimactic like I hope it to be) if you read the story from a different prospective will know what I mean.

As someone who loves graytoned and dark characters with tragic past (and present) I enjoyed Yohan's character more than Hayan, I am ganna be honest here. I really didn't hope him to get such... pitiful ending. His tragedy was overlooked and misread. What pissed me off was the narrative of "because he was abuse, because he the Villain his only ending was to die pitifully by the superior being called 'pure blood'". He was a abused broken kid. He needed councilling not superhuman powers. He already messed up in the head enough, the powers and the railing he got from his bullies made him snap. The thread of sanity he was clinging to was destroyed.

More importantly, the guy only wanted a sorry from his bullies, who did god knows how many awful things to him.

He was no pure blood, he was only a human with the worst situation.

[reyoniix]

*throws credit card* I’LL TAKE BOTH!

[who will you choose?]

[slumberjg]

I know that he’s like the villain or whatever but like,,, wHY THE FUCK WOULD THE AUTHOR MAKE HIM SO HOT?? LIKE IM SUPPOSED TO HATE THIS DUDE??? HAVE YOU SEEN HIM?? THAT FUCKING SMIRK???

[i-like-giving-orders]

[sushihotramen]