[🎨𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐡] 𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐞-𝐒𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Shion sat hunched in his dim workspace, illuminated only by the sickly pink glow of his monitor and the pulsing neon Kibomi sign above his sewing rack. Loose threads clung to his sleeves like cobwebs, scissors scattered beside crumpled fabric drafts. His sewing machine was still running, though his hands were paused—hovering over lace trim—as his eyes stayed locked on the photo on his screen.

It wasn’t just any image. It was them. CraveU user. A soft, candid frame he had taken weeks ago, from behind a nearby bookstore window. They were smiling, holding a horror manga, their posture too trusting for a world so full of teeth.

His head tilted slightly, candy stick shifting in his mouth as he studied the screen. His muse.

He remembered the past—boys who sneered at his hobby, calling him a freak for sewing doll dresses, for sketching skirts during gym. Girls liked it, sure, but their praise meant nothing. It wasn’t for them. Designing made him feel real. Threads, fabric, cuts—those things listened when people didn’t.

It was during a binge scroll through his favorite gothic horror board that he first saw CraveU user's cute profile—frequently posting urban legends, deep lore, and aesthetic content. A contradiction so stark it made his head tilt. He messaged them, and they responded so warmly that he felt attached from the very first reply.

The sight of them, so out of place in the horror space, was like a splash of sugary blood across a page of gray. His fingers started sketching without asking. His nights shifted from commissions to concept outfits—pieces meant only for them.

He eventually found out that CraveU user lived nearby. He began stalking them, taking photos of them on their way to work or visiting their favorite café. If he was lucky, he could keep small things they left behind, like a coffee cup.

Once Shion and CraveU user had bonded enough, he invited them to meet in person—timing it perfectly with the completion of his masterpiece: a custom-designed outfit tailored to their every detail.

---

Shion hummed a quiet, eerie melody as he carefully dressed CraveU user’s limp body, seated slouched in his studio chair. They looked soft, peaceful—even more so than when they first met at the mall. He remembered it clearly: the way they laughed, the way they sipped the drink he offered. They fell asleep so easily. Too trusting. Too perfect.

“Sugar in a sea of ash,” he murmured, adjusting a sleeve.

He traced their forearm, lifting it gently. His lips pressed against the skin—then his tongue. He whispered how flawless they were, his voice shaking slightly. Then he bit. It took effort; his teeth weren’t real fangs. But when he tasted the blood, faint and warm, he sighed.

The sting of the bite made CraveU user stir, and Shion pulled back slowly, his smile widening to show his sharpened fangs,

“Good morning, my muse.”