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w0rm3y · 1 day ago

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Malevolence In Spring- R. Sukuna

TAGS: Hades!Sukuna x Persephone!Reader, arranged marriage, forced proximity, kidnapping, True Form!Sukuna, Husband!Sukuna

OVERALL WARNINGS: MDNI, extreme violence, graphic depictions of death, blood, body horror, physical torture, psychological torture, Stockholm Syndrome, Lima Syndrome, manipulation, toxicity, cannibalism, suicide, blood kink, spit kink, breeding kink, biting kink, size kink, monster-fucking (That man is a monster, like actually), S&M, marking, stomach/belly bulges THIS CHAPTER: mentions of death, suicide, and SA, but it's all brief.

tbh, this chapter is pretty tame and a little fluffy if you squint, but it's all in preparation for the next chapter, which is by far worse than what I've written so far in terms of death/body horror, but we can talk about that later.

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

SUMMARY: you were taken from your home and forced to become Sukuna's wife.

“The next time you run from me, run fast and run far. Pray that I never, ever find you. If you get away from me, I swear to you, I will not stop looking for you until you’re beside me again. Mortals and deities fear me for a reason, and I don’t mind showing you why they all share that sentiment. Understand, wife?”

|| MIS M.List || > TORTURER > PITIFUL; oiktrós; οικτρός

The pain in your ankles didn’t subside until a couple of weeks after the incident, and in that time, Sukuna had been missing. In fact, months had passed, and you’ve yet to hear from him.

Not that you wanted to anyway.

You’ve also not moved from your spot on your bed, not spoken to the random woman who claimed to be your new handmaiden, and you haven’t seen the light of day this entire time due to the blindfold.

Even while in your chambers, you were still ordered to wear it.

You were left alone a majority of the time, so you knew that if you truly wished to take the blindfold off, you could do so without any repercussions, but there was a fear inside of you that prohibited you from doing it.

You couldn't really complain. Your situation wasn’t the best by any means–in fact, most would agree that this was a living hell. However, after what you’ve experienced thus far, being rendered immobile like you have has only proved to be a blessing.

Hopefully, there would be a chance that you’d be allowed to slip into the afterlife without Uraume noticing. Though, you’ve yet to decide how that might come about.

It definitely wouldn’t be via starvation or dehydration, as the handmaiden all but forced sustenance down your throat three times a day. You guess succumbing to whatever infection could fester in your ankle wouldn’t be a likely cause either, as your bandages were changed twice daily, too.

A broken heart, maybe?

Or, perhaps if you lie just the right way, your pillow could aid in suffocating you.

At the start of what you assumed to be your fourth month of this torturous blessing, your handmaiden spoke a full sentence to you while she unraveled the bandages around your foot.

“It appears your injury is fully healed, my queen. I would offer you the chance to walk around outside in the garden, but the winter seems to only be getting harsher as the days pass.”

Could it really be winter still? After so long?

You were retrieved toward the end of autumn–shouldn’t springtide be here?

“Your skin seems quite cold, so I’ll fetch you more blankets and deliver them with your dinner.”

Even as the winter season trudged on, you couldn’t find yourself caring about the cold. What could it do to a body that was already so numb?

Instead, you found your thoughts straying to memories of spring at your home–your real home. The one you shared with your mother, the one you were raised in.

Back when the sunshine on your skin was so warm, and the green grass would tickle the bottoms of your feet as you worked in your garden.

Back when your life wasn’t withering away like a decaying plant with a broken stem underneath a harsh, acidic downpour.

When the fifth month passed, you couldn’t help but feel as though there was a mistake in the universe. Those thoughts were only solidified when your nameless handmaiden entered your chambers once more, greeting you cheerfully. It was a stark contrast to the many mornings before, when she’d greeted you quietly and without emotion.

“Good morning, my queen! You’ve had nineteen passes around the sun. How do you feel?” Her happiness diminished when she realized you wouldn’t respond–you never did.

Truthfully, you enjoyed the days when she wouldn’t say anything to you and would just shovel your food down your throat before leaving you alone again.

It made you wonder what had changed.

“Our kitchen maids created something special for you this morning!” she chimed, shuffling closer until you could feel her weight dip onto the bed. “I have a variety of sweets here. Loukoumi, Halva, candied figs, and best of all, honey cake! And I have cleared this with the king–he’s given you permission to take your blindfold off for today! Here, allow me to-”

As soon as you felt her reach out for you, sheer panic shot through your entire body, forcing you to jolt away from her touch. Your heart started pounding in your chest as you violently shook your head.

“You don’t… you don’t want to take it off?”

Your lips parted to speak when that same fearful feeling crept up your spine. Immediately, you closed your mouth and nodded your head, agreeing with her silently.

“It’s been months, my queen. Are you sure? Don’t you want to see again? Don’t you want to see me? I know we haven’t had the chance to get to know one another well, but don’t you-”

You shook your head again, recoiling from her even more.

“Oh, o-okay. That’s okay, you don’t have to. It’s your birthday, after all.”

The thought of having this comforting blessing of blindness stripped away from you, even with the knowledge that the king himself had given you permission, you couldn’t bear it. The blindfold and your silence had both become your crutches during this time. To be thrust back into the life you had months ago… that wasn’t something you wanted.

Not anymore.

There was a comfort in the darkness that the blindfold brought you. With it, you knew you’d never have to see things you didn’t want to. With your silence, there wasn’t a chance for you to say anything that might put yourself or someone else at risk for punishment.

You were safe in the dark, quiet bubble the king had placed you in.

“Well, let’s move on to the next exciting thing: gifts! A couple of the girls and I came together to create a little bouquet for you. It’s not much, but we gathered flowers from the garden. Unfortunately, they’re all from the winter variety, so they’re a bit blue, but they’re beautiful nonetheless. Uhm, are you sure you don’t want to see them?”

You shook your head, earning her disheartened sigh.

“Okay. Would you like me to describe them to you?”

You found yourself eagerly agreeing with a nod of your head. For the first time, you felt a touch of happiness thrum in your body from the thought of flowers. Your own garden had become a reprieve when you lived at home with your mother. You missed it terribly.

“There are a few cornflowers, starflowers, with some grape hyacinth and winter heath sprinkled in there. One of the girls even made a trip down to the little village near the castle and picked up some blue paper to wrap them up in.” The handmaiden paused, shifting the flowers around in her hand. “Would you like to hold them?”

Instantly, your hands jutted out, briefly brushing against her skin before latching onto the crinkling paper. You brought them to your nose, inhaling deeply with a sated sigh.

Who knew something as delicate and precious as flowers could blossom in a hellish place like this?

“Do you like them?”

You hummed in agreement.

A stretch of silence continued for a moment before she spoke again.

“There is one more gift. Here, let me put these in a pitcher of water for you so you can open the next one.”

Begrudgingly, you handed over the flowers, only to have them replaced with a heavy box. Your fingertips traced over the smooth grooves of the wooden box before touching what felt like a carving on the lid. When you felt a series of little bumps, you couldn’t even begin to picture what it might be.

Luckily, your handmaiden took notice and came to your rescue.

“Oh, the design on the box is a pomegranate blossom.”

A pomegranate?

As your fingers traced over the design again, you could picture the carving in your head. The little bumps must be the seeds, and the lines must create the pointed blossom.

“The king is rather fond of the fruit. They grow in abundance here–well, when it isn’t such a harsh winter. You’ll see that come summer. The trees line the paths in the garden. It’s very pretty…”

As she spoke, she didn’t take notice of your panic after she mentioned his name.

You pushed the box away from yourself and flinched when you heard it land on the floor.

“My queen? Are you alright?” Her footsteps tapped along the floor as she raced over to you, gasping when she saw the gift lying on the floor. “Your gift–here. Forgive me, I should have been watching, I–what is the matter?”

You pushed away from her, brushing off the box she was attempting to set in your lap again.

“You don’t want the gift? Are you sure?” When you nodded, she continued, “It’s uhm.. It’s not from the king, if that’s what you’re assuming. This… um–this came from the kitchen maids! They all saved up to get you something!”

Your heart leapt into your throat as you clambered back over, not keen on feeling guilty for rejecting a gift from the innocent kitchen staff after they’ve already gone through so much trouble.

Pushing your fingers inside the box, you gasped when you brushed over something so soft. The handmaiden gasped, too, and pulled whatever it was from the box.

“Oh, my queen! This gift is so beautiful!”

You reached forward, gripping onto the fabric again.

“It’s a winter cloak, my queen. So beautiful, so… elegant! Would you like to try it on?”

You agreed through a wince as you were trying to pull your legs over the edge of the bed. Her hands instantly wrapped around your waist when you stumbled forward, only for her to ease you back to the edge of the mattress.

“It’s been a while since you’ve used your legs. Here, allow me,” she said as she flung the cloak around your shoulders, latching it shut across your chest. “There, and goodness, my queen! You look stunning!”

For the first time in so long, you felt a smile curve onto your lips. Your hands ran over the fabric, taking in the texture and reveling in the warmth.

“Would you like to see yourself in it?”

Your smile fell, heart faltering into a near stop at the mention of it. You shook your head as your fingers found the clasp at your chest, ready to take it off, only for her to wrap her hand around yours to stop you.

“It’s okay. If you don’t want to remove your blindfold, I won’t make you. But, please, don’t take off the cloak yet. You look so beautiful in it.”

You swallowed thickly, but agreed with her.

“Would you like to take a walk outside in the garden with me? Now that you’ve got this cloak, the harsh winter shouldn’t seem more than a gentle breeze.”

You frowned, leaning down to tap your ankle, reminding her that you still couldn’t walk.

“Don’t worry. I can carry you on my back. You don’t weigh that much.”

After a couple of hours and an extensive bath, per your handmaiden’s request, she finally brought you out of the castle on her back. As soon as the winter air hit your skin, you gasped, choking slightly from the lack of oxygen in the atmosphere.

But it was refreshing nonetheless.

You contemplated taking the blindfold off for only a moment before doubt crept back in, which kept it secured to your face. You didn’t force yourself to do it either, and instead, decided to just enjoy the little bit of fresh air that you’d been granted that day.

Her feet crunched in the snow as she trudged forward, not once huffing or puffing from the extra weight you were putting on her back. After an hour of walking around with her, adding just bits to the conversation, she came to a stop. Carefully, she slid you off her back and onto a resting spot of some kind.

“We can rest under the gazebo for a bit. You still haven’t eaten anything today, so I packed up a couple of figs and a slice of cake.” She rummaged around in something before adding, “Here, my queen. After this, we can stop and grab a few more flowers before I take you back inside. Then, you can have a warm bath, and I’ll make you some tea. How does that sound?”

Another smile carved itself onto your mouth before you nodded, earning her quiet cheer of relief.

After finishing the figs, she broke off a piece of the cake and placed it in your mouth. You almost moaned, instantly falling in love with the taste.

She laughed, “It’s good, right? Miss Suyo made it special.”

Suyo?

You realized you hadn’t learned the names of anyone inside the castle, not even your new handmaiden. However, just before you could even think to ask her, a familiar voice sliced through the air.

“Miss Unoko,” they began, and while it had been a while since you’d heard their voice, you knew it to be Uraume. “The king will be joining the queen here on the gazebo. When he arrives, you are dismissed.”

The king? Wants to join you?

Your stomach twisted into knots as you forced yourself to swallow the mouthful of syrupy cake.

“Oh, I don’t think that is a good idea. The queen is-”

“Express your concerns when he arrives. I’m not your messenger.”

Instinctively, your hands curled around her clothing, hoping she wouldn’t abandon you with him. Her hand cupped your own, equally as cold as your hands were.

“Don’t worry, my queen. I’m sure the king just wants to wish you a happy birthday. When he returns you to your chambers, I’ll be waiting for you. I promise.” Her hand tightened around yours for only a moment before her touch disappeared entirely. “I should go before he arrives. He is… not very fond of me as of late.”

Then, the snow began crunching under her feet as she departed. In the distance, you heard the brief chatter of two individuals before it dispersed, replaced by the sound of your blood rushing through your head. So much so that you did not hear him approach.

However, you could smell him. The smoky incense and sweetened decay scent were all too familiar to you; you were sure there was nothing you could do to forget it. It only intensified as he grew closer, but you didn’t know he was right in front of you until you felt him.

You flinched when his thumb brushed against your jaw, creating millions of sparks that stippled your skin in the wake of his touch.

“The cloak suits you nicely,” he gruffly said, moving to take a seat beside you.

The way just his voice was able to manipulate your insides, paired with the rush you felt when he touched you, created an awfully sick culmination of contradicting feelings within you. It made all the hair on the back of your neck stand up, but at the same time, you found yourself wanting to curl into him and accept this disgusting, innate craving to be comforted by him.

What is wrong with you?

“You did not walk out here, I hope.”

You shook your head as his hand moved to your thigh, which caused you to gasp and pull away from him. Of course, that didn’t work out in your favor. His fingers parted your cloak around your calves, and a deep grumble emanated from his chest.

“You need winter shoes if you’re going to be outside.”

You nodded in agreement and shuffled away from him.

“You know, your handmaiden pleaded on her hands and knees for you to have today to remove your blindfold, yet, here you are, wearing it still. Do you not want to see the beautiful garden that the help work so hard to maintain?”

Your mouth fell open, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to actually give him an answer.

“Still not speaking?”

Slowly, you shook your head, wondering if he knew that this was the first time you’d heard from him in five months.

“Take off your blindfold. Your handmaiden put her life on the line to make this request on your behalf.”

Instinctively, your eyes welled with tears.

“Now, wife. Be silent if you must, but I had to listen to the woman grovel for hours.”

She really did all of that for you?

Still, you denied him his order.

“I will not punish you for a command that I am giving you. Take. It. Off.”

You made a sound of discontent, still refusing. This time, you pushed even further away from him until you slipped from the side of the bench.

You shrieked, bracing for the impact that never came. Instead, a warm hand gripped your cloak and hoisted you onto your feet. Within seconds, you stumbled forward until he held you by your waist so you wouldn’t fall over.

“Why are you so adamant about keeping the blindfold on? Take it off. Now.”

You shivered as his hold on your body tightened.

“I already said I won’t punish you for it, but I have no qualms about punishing you for your disobedience.”

Your tear-soaked blindfold cooled in the winter air, but you didn’t move. Perhaps if you were lucky, it would freeze to your face and you wouldn’t have to take it off at all.

This blindfold was your buffer to the real world. As long as you had it on, you could pretend that being stuck in this place wasn’t so bad.

Apparently, Sukuna had other ideas.

When you didn’t make a move to take it off, one of his hands shot behind your head, pulling the piece that tied it all together. A ragged sob tore from your throat as the cloth fell from your eyes, and without hesitating, you pushed yourself forward, forcing your face into the ruffles of his winter cloak.

He stilled, hands moving away from you as you clambered into his lap, seeking refuge in the blindness his clothing offered. Your body curled into him as you inhaled that familiar scent, relishing in the darkness, which seemed to have calmed you down a bit.

How ridiculous, you thought.

After gaining his composure, his hands grappled with your own cloak in an attempt to pry you off of him.

“Sit up.”

You shook your head, burying your head deeper.

Under his breath, he huffed, “Fucking pathetic,” as his grip loosened to slide up to your back. “You’re a grown woman, yet you’re behaving like a child. Am I really wed to such a brat?” he scoffed, but made no attempt to remove you. Instead, he secured you to his torso before leaning forward with one hand, abandoning his hold on you for a moment.

When he stood to his full height, you felt as though you were flying, much like you’d felt all those months ago at the hearing.

He truly was a behemoth of a god.

“Here. If you insist on wearing it, go ahead. Why would I care?” he sighed, forcing the cloth into your fist as he began walking through the snow.

Quickly, you tied it around your face before pressing your cheek against his warm chest again–something that should not have brought you as much satisfaction as it did.

“Poor excuse of a queen,” he jeered to himself upon entering the castle.

You only nodded and relinquished the inner thoughts that told you to get away from him.

Why would you, when the comfort he was giving you almost seemed to make up for the months you’d spent alone?

“O-Oh, my king! I did not expect you to be back-” Unoko started her apology when Sukuna entered the room with you clinging to his chest, only for him to immediately cut her off.

“Silence.” At his command, Unoko shut her mouth as Sukuna lowered you onto your bed. It was only then that you released your hold on his cloak and forced yourself under the covers. “Never request things on behalf of your queen ever again. You’ll be released to the hunting grounds before you even step foot into my throne room, do you understand me?”

“Yes, my king-”

Before she could even finish her response, he slammed your chamber doors shut as he stormed out.

Every day for the next week, Unoko would carry you out to the garden to have lunch under the gazebo. The king didn’t try to interfere with your little regimen again, which you were highly grateful for. However, there was still a tiny part of you that did wish he’d interrupt you, but only for a moment.

A moment was all you needed to soak in the odd comfort your captor seemed to bring you.

Unoko really enjoyed your daily outings, too. Even when you neglected to answer her questions, she’d always continue the conversation, putting words in your mouth for you. Your talk was entirely one-sided, but in a way, it felt like you were both partaking in the gossip.

Speaking of, gossip was something that was never lacking at the shrine, and Unoko never failed to relay it all back to you.

“Miss Koya said that Miss Musu saw Miss Yukime and Sir Noriyoshi sneaking off last night to his chambers. Yukime was supposed to be caring for Lady Yorozu, too. Apparently, Musu covered for Yukime, and took her spot at Lady Yorozu’s bedside last night,” Unoko continued with a knowing tone. “And everyone knows how crabby the royal mistress can be.”

“R-Royal wh-whore…” you felt the words slip from your mouth before you could stop them. The scratch in your throat was too painful, and the growing anxiety forced your mouth closed again.

Unoko gasped, giggling quietly. “My queen, this is the first I’ve heard you speak, and it’s to engage in tattle.” You felt your cheeks warm as you recoiled into yourself. “But you’re entirely right–Lady Yorozu is… well, perhaps I should keep my commentary to myself when it comes to things directly involving our king.”

You shook your head, gripping her hand and silently telling her to continue.

“Oh, you want to hear about it?”

You nodded.

“Alright. Well, if I tell you, this all has to stay between us, okay? They say that Lady Yorozu indulges in more men than just King Sukuna. They say she services the entire king’s guard behind our king’s back. But you didn’t hear that from me, alright?”

You smiled and nodded, leaning into Unoko for warmth.

“More…” you croaked, barely loud enough to be considered a whisper.

She laughed. “Alright, let’s see. Oh, did you ever hear about the secret baby they keep hidden away here? Apparently, it belongs to one of the kitchen maids. Word is, she was raped and instead of telling anyone, she had the baby in secret and kept it underground.”

You frowned and pulled away from her.

“No one can ever prove if it’s true because no one has ever been able to find it, but if you go near the cellar when the sun goes down, they say you can hear it crying for its mother. If you ask me, it sounds more like the cellar is haunted, but they claim there’s a child.”

“Who?”

“No one knows exactly. Of course, this whisper has been circulating around the castle for years now, so the chances of there actually being a child below the cellar are highly unlikely. It would have grown up by now-”

“Take me.”

She paused under your command. “I don’t think that is a good idea, my queen. As I’ve said, this is just speculation.”

But if there truly is a child down there-

Unoko was quick to change the subject before you could pry into the rumor further.

“I’m sure you’re hungry. Let’s get you fed, and then we can go inside and warm you up with a bath.”

The steady sound of Unoko’s embroidery needle piercing the taught fabric is what lulled you to sleep that night. Since Sukuna dropped you off last week after your time in the garden, Unoko has been staying with you until you fell asleep. This wasn’t something you had asked of her, but it gave you comfort to know that she was there while you slipped into unconsciousness.

Usually, you were quick to fall asleep. Your outings had started to exhaust you throughout the day as you’d done nothing but lie in bed for the past few months. However, tonight was different–you were a bit restless with your straying thoughts. After Unoko told you the story about the baby in the cellar, you couldn’t help but keep thinking about it.

Could there really be a baby down there? And no one was taking care of it? She said it was years ago, perhaps the baby was dead? Maybe it really was just a ghost haunting the area– this was the underworld, after all. A wandering spirit wouldn’t be too shocking.

But, what if that wandering spirit was that baby?

Did someone let it die down there? Could the mother really leave it to starve? To freeze? If a helpless, innocent child were experiencing even half of what you’d gone through, your heart would shatter.

Children weren’t made for a place like this.

Rather than alerting Unoko to your thoughts, you let them run wild. If she knew her story was keeping you awake, she’d definitely quit indulging in the castle gossip with you. That had been the only thing keeping you truly entertained so far– it kept you from being entirely miserable.

It made you feel less… lonely.

You couldn’t imagine how lonely that baby must’ve been. Whether the rumor is true or not, just thinking about it made your stomach churn.

The light tapping against your chamber door pulled you out of your melancholic thoughts. Unoko’s noises ceased as she put aside her work and quietly padded to the door, gently pulling it open so as not to wake you up. As soon as it creaked open, the already cool air shifted into an arctic freeze.

“Good evening, my king,” Unoko whispered, shuffling her feet.

“How was she today?” he asked quietly as they stepped out of the room, pulling the door to a near closed.

Your ears strained to hear their conversation.

“The queen was good as always. I accompanied her to the garden, we had lunch, and then I bathed her this evening before helping her into bed. She still insists on wearing the blindfold, my king-”

“Is she still silent?”

Your heart came to a halt.

He understood that you chose not to speak, so would he force you now? If Unoko told him that you had spoken to her, would he assume that you wished to speak to him as well?

Truthfully, you didn’t want to speak to him. Unoko and you had bonded plenty over the last few months. You trusted her enough that your body was allowing you to talk to her out loud.

Sukuna, however, was a different story.

There was something about talking to him that you didn’t feel safe about doing. Any time you had in the past, it never worked out in your favor.

But would he punish you now that he knew you were capable of speaking to other people, but chose not to speak to him?

“The queen is… still silent, my king.”

“You hesitated.”

The growing tension from their conversation in the hallway was permeating into the room, making your throat thicken with a bit of fear.

You wanted her to keep your little secret between each other, but at the same time, if something happened to her like your last handmaiden, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself. Unoko had just pulled you out of the misery that Sukuna had forced you into, and you weren’t ready to slip back into it.

You needed Unoko.

“Is she speaking or not, mortal?”

“She is not, my king. But she is making progress.”

The tremble in her voice made you nervous. Being under the king’s scrutinizing questioning wasn’t easy.

“Enlighten me.”

“During lunch, she let me know she enjoyed the meal but… humming.”

“I see. What did the kitchen prepare for her today?”

“Oh, uhm, let’s see. There were dried persimmons, cheese, and bread.”

Sukuna grumbled under his breath. “That’s it?”

“Well, that’s all that she ate. They made a veal stew, but she isn’t fond of meat, my king.”

“Of course, she isn’t,” he scoffed with a touch of disgust.

“It seems she favors sweets. She really enjoyed the honey cake that was prepared for her birthday-”

“I do not care what the insolent brat favors. She’ll eat what she’s given, or she’ll starve. But if she dies, so do you.”

“I understand, my king.”

Even from inside your room, you could hear the way his teeth were grinding together out of frustration.

If he did not care, why was he taking the time to ask in the first place?

“What else do you have to report? Quickly, I have important things to tend to.”

“She seems rather bored when confined to her chambers-”

“That matters to me how?”

“I just think she would enjoy an activity to occupy her mind. She enjoys the garden quite a bit, my king. Perhaps she could aid in helping the groundskeeper.”

Sukuna was quiet for a moment before chuckling.

“While she is an inane woman, she’s still a queen. I won’t have my wife working outside with the help. Ask me a foolish question like that again, mortal. I dare you.”

His footsteps retreated down the hallway after that, and Unoko entered the room again, quietly taking her seat in the corner and starting her embroidery task like before.

She was the first person here who fought for your best interests, every step of the way. Tonight further solidified the fact that you needed her with you.

She was genuine and kind.

“Thank you… Unoko…”

Her movement stopped as she exhaled a shaky breath, probably still reeling after speaking with Sukuna.

“Of course, my queen.”

The next week passed quickly as you and Unoko continued with your regular regimen.

Garden, gossip, eat, and go inside to bathe.

“Guess what Miss Musu told me this morning as I went to retrieve your breakfast?” Unoko started, placing you down gently on the bench underneath the gazebo. You tapped her arm, urging her to continue. She giggled and took her place beside you. “She said that Sir Noriyoshi and Lady Yorozu were seen roaming the halls together last night. Apparently, Koya spotted them–can you believe it? She really is-”

Unoko stopped short.

You exhaled a laugh as a smile curved onto your mouth. That is, until Unoko’s hand curled around yours, silently telling you to stop. Then you felt that shift in the air, alluding to the god who just made his presence known to her, and with her next words, it was confirmed.

“My king, I apologize. I did not know you would be-”

“Leave us,” he commanded, his hefty boots thudding against the flooring of the gazebo. Her hand disappeared from yours before you could reach out for her and secure her to your side.

“Of course. Here is her lunch for today.” Turning to you then, she said, “I’ll see you this evening, my queen. My king.”

You heard her footsteps retreating, crunching through the snow as she left you behind.

Sukuna’s overwhelming scent clouded your brain, leaving you to fumble around to put space between you.

“Relax. I have something for you.”

When his hand brushed your thigh, you flinched away from him. He traced his fingers through he ruffles of your cloak until he exposed your calf. Despite knowing how brutal his hands could be, his touch had never felt so soft, and it worked wonders on calming down your erratic heartbeat.

How easily you’d be able to just forget about all the horrible things he’s done to you if he promises to keep touching you like that.

“You should be able to walk now that your ankles have healed.” Your heart palpitated in your chest as he pulled the leather tie that held together your flimsy sandals. When he slid it off your foot, he continued, “In two weeks, you’ll attend another hearing with me, and I’ll need you to walk down the aisle to your designated spot. Until then, we are going to practice.”

The mere mention of another hearing brought apprehension to your chest, but it was quelled by his hand brushing over your ankle. Funnily enough, this didn’t incite as much fear as you thought it might. Sukuna was the one to slice your ankles, yet here he was, touching them so gently.

Soft fur slid over your foot and up your calf, stopping just below your knees as he secured the warm boot to your foot. When it was situated in place, you pulled your leg away from him and created space between you both, shaking your head.

“What?” he questioned. “The hearing?” When you nodded, he scoffed, “You will attend. It is your duty as the queen.”

You shook your head again, fingers tracing over the blindfold.

“I will not make you remove your blindfold. You will not have to speak, either, but your presence is mandatory. There is talk of a war between the regions,” he sighed as he continued placing the next boot on your other foot. “The kingdom must appear strong, so that means having the queen attend, do you understand?”

You nodded.

“Good.” He grabbed your hands next, sliding a warm set of gloves over them. “We will practice outside.”

Sukuna pulled you up by your wrists, holding you steady until you gathered your bearings. Under your own weight, the muscles in your legs started to shake, and eventually, they gave out, sending you tumbling forward. Sukuna caught you and pushed you straight again, letting out a grumbling huff.

“Can you not even stand on your own?”

Your lips pressed into a flat line as his question, silently giving him his answer–one he wasn’t impressed by as he groaned under his breath, “Gods,” before wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you to his side. “I expect you to try.”

|| MIS M.List || > TORTURER >

confused by what you just read? Malevolence In Spring's Guide

a/n: I just wanna let everyone who commented on these posts know that I swear I'm seeing your comments and I appreciate every single one of them!! You all have been so so so sweet!!! Sometimes I just get overwhelmed and don't know how to respond, but I love reading them, and I love you!!! It means so much!!! ty ty ty <333!!!

taglist: @belovedria @whorishminds @kaziis @delliriumn @desmond69sallnite @kouyoumarryme @doobybopbop

the taglist is still open, so just lemme know if you want to be added! And if you're already on it and want to be removed, lemme know that, too!

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whimsicalwritersstuff · 2 days ago

Note

Can you do one where Joel and reader during the apocalypse their kid gets killed or bit — and they die and ofc reader is going crazy like her baby is dead and Joel is crying and Joel is holding both his girl and their baby

then fast forward into a year maybe he wakes up from a nightmare and this takes place in Jackson maybe idk u choose and he’s awake from the nightmare and starts to panic when he sees that the reader isn’t in bed with him and he’s calling out her name just to find her in the kitchen getting some water— maybe she’s like holding him close to her chest telling him that she’s okay shes not leaving him, him crying into her neck saying he can’t lose her too 🫠🫠 and then they’re cuddling in bed rocking themself to sleep— no smut :)

What's left of us

Pairings: Joel miller x fem!reader

Content warnings: Child death (graphic description of a toddler's death by an infected), parental grief and trauma, violence/gore, panic attack, severe emotional distress, descriptive mourning, survivor's guilt, mention of blood on a child, flashbacks/nightmares, comfort.

Word count: 1.000

author's note: this one's a bit heavy one so please please read the warnings before continuing any further, if this one's not for you then I completely understand and please take your care yourself!! ^^ 💞

It happened fast.

Too fast.

One moment, you were walking through the ruins of a small abandoned town, your child nestled between the two of you, tiny fingers clinging to your coat, babbling softly, unaware of the danger that always followed. And then...

The scream.

Joel turned first, rifle raised. But the runner came out of nowhere, foaming at the mouth, half of it's face gone, arms flailing. It wasn't supposed to be that close. You hadn't heard it. None of you had.

You heard the bite.

A wet, sickening sound.

Then a cry.

Not yours, not Joel's...

Hers.

Your baby.

Joel shot it, too late. Too fucking late. He fired again, screaming this time and when the runner collapsed, blood and brains across the concret, you dropped to your knees. "No- no no no no no," You were whispering. Screaming. Shaking. "No- god- no- baby, baby- look at me, look at me!-"

But her little body had already gone limp. There was blood on her neck. Sleeve. Her mouth. Joel dropped beside you, hands shaking, muttering sometbing over and over again, but you couldn't hear it. You couldnt hear anything. All you could see was your little baby girl, your little miracle, laying in your arms with empty eyes.

You were screaming now. Wailing.

"No-please- don't take her, don't take her too!! Joel! Do something!!!"

Joel's face broke.

Cracked open like a glass under a boot.

He reached out, pulled you close, wrapped his arms around you and the baby both. He you like he could keep you from falling apart. But he was shaking, sobbing into your hair, his voice shredded and raw. "I'm sorry. I'm fuckin' sorry, baby- should've- should've protected her- should've been faster-" you collapsed against him, the child's body between you, cold and too quiet. "She was just a baby," You sobbed. "Our baby- our baby- what do we do now, joel?"

Joel didn't answer.

He just rocked you.

The three of you in the dirt.

You.

Him.

And the little life you both created and couldn't save.

~~~

One year later, Jackson, Wyoming.

The snow outside had quieted hours ago, muffling the town in the soft white. Streetlights blinked through the curtain of flurries like dying stars, and Jackson safe, structured Jackson, slept under it's heavy blanket.

But Joel miller didn't sleep.

Not really.

He dozed. Drifted.

And he dreamed.

It always started the same way, the echo of that scream. Too small. Too real. He would turn, too slow, his boots catching on the gravel, gun not raised in time, again. He would see the bite. Hear you scream. Feel his baby girl's weight going limp in his arms. "Joel- Joel, do something- please!-"

And then nothing.

Silence so sharp it shattered bim.

He shot up in bed, gasping, chest heaving like someone had crushed it. The sheets clung to his sweat drenched skin, tangled around his legs like veins. His eye darted around the dark room. "Baby?" He croaked, voice dry and ragged.

No answer.

His heart thudded like a war drum. He reached across the bed with trembling fingers. Cold, empty, no warmth, no weight beside him...

"Baby-" He called again, louder now, frantic, stumbling out of bed with bare feet hitting the cold woof.

The bosi was too quiet.

Too familiar.

Too still.

He moved like a man possessed, checking the bathroom, the hall. His lungs were right. Breath shallow.

God, no- don't let her be gone too.

Not her. Not her.

"(your name)?" His voice cracked. Broke.

He was halfway down the stairs when he heard it, the quiet clink of a glass, a cabinet closing.

He turned the corner and saw you. Bathed in soft fridge light, your hair messy from sleep, a blanket draped around your shoulders. A glass of water in one hand. Eyes wide when you loowd up and saw him. Wrecked, standing barefoot in the doorway like a man who'd clawedout of the earth.

"Joel?" You whispered, already moving to him.

He didn't speak.

Didn't breathe.

Just reached for you like he wasn't sure you were real.

You caught him before he fell, wrapping your arms around him just as his knees gave out, sinking to the kitchen floor with him cradled against you. "I couldn't find you," He choked into your shoulder. "You weren't there. I tbought- fuck, I thought-"

"I'm here," You whispered, pressing your face into his hair. "I'm here, baby. I'm not going anywhere " his hands fisted the back of your shirt, clinging so hard it hurt. His whole body shook as he buried his face in your neck, breath stuttering like he couldn't get enough air. "I can't lose you too. I can't. I can't fuckin' do it." You pulled him tighter, guiding his head to your chest, letting him listen to the steady beat of your heart. "I'm not leaving you, Joel" You said softly. "You hear me? I'm not going anywhere."

His tears soaked through your shirt.

And still you held him.

Held him like you held your baby that day. Only this time, you weren't letting go. You sat on the floor for a long time, wrapped in silence and each other. The glass of water long forgotten. The lights from outside flickering faintly on the walls like ghosts passing by.

Eventually, you guided him back upstairs, hands steady, fingers laced with his. He let you lead. Let you tuck him into bed like he was the fragile one. You curled around him, his arms tight around your waist,face pressed to your collarbone. He breathed you in like it grounded him, like it brought him back to life. "You promise?" He whispered into your skin. "Promise me you ain't goin' anywhere..."

You kissed his temple, your voice quiet. "I Promise."

Outside, the wind howled.

Inside, you rocked slowly. Just the two of you, like always. No one else. Nothing else. No baby between you this time, just the space where grief lived and love refused to die.

Joel clung to you like a man who had finally understood that love didn't mean safety.

It meant surviving anyway.

And sometime before dawn, his tears dried.

You both drifted off, tangled in warmth, and memory, and the fragile, precious quiet of still being here.

Together.

185 notes · View notes

yanderslutt · 1 day ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍' 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄

Yandere!Sukuna x Reader | Gojo x Reader (flirty tension)

summary ; You told him you were done. Told him he didn’t own you anymore. So you slipped into a red dress, lined your lips with gloss, and stepped outside like you didn’t belong to the most dangerous man in the city. The club was your stage—music loud, drinks flowing, girls hyping you up. And then there was Gojo. Fine, flirty, smooth. His hands on your waist. His breath on your neck. His voice in your ear asking if you were really single.

But Sukuna was watching.

He didn’t just show up—he stormed in. Gun in hand, rage in his chest, and your name in his mouth. Shots rang out, fists flew, and chaos erupted. And before anyone could stop him, he had you over his shoulder like a misbehaving trophy. You kicked, screamed, hit—but he only gripped tighter, smacking your ass and growling, “You not outside no more.”

What followed wasn’t love—it was punishment. On the couch. Against the wall. Inside the apartment you once ran from. Sukuna didn’t ask. He took. He reminded you with every thrust, every bite, every filthy, possessive word, that no man would ever have you like he did. Not Gojo. Not anyone. Because you weren’t just his.

You were ruined by him.

Content Warnings: Explicit sexual content (18+), toxic possessiveness, yandere themes, gun violence (shooting into ceiling), public fight/altercation, dubcon tones, choking, spanking, degradation, rough sex, obsession, controlling behavior, blood/violence, kidnapping tones (within toxic dynamic), toxic jealousy, emotional manipulation.

(ONESHOT!)

The slit of your dress danced like fire as you moved across the room. Heels sharp, perfume loud, body sculpted like sin in motion. You didn’t just look good—you looked free. And that’s what drove him mad.

Behind you, the door swung open hard enough to shake the frame.

“Take that shit off,” Sukuna growled.

You smiled at the mirror. The gloss on your lips sparkled.

“Sorry, I already decided to be a problem tonight.”

He stepped in like a storm, all tattoos and tension. Bare chest rising and falling like something was caged inside it—something feral.

“You walk out that door dressed like that?” he muttered, voice thick with warning. “You won’t be able to come back.”

You laughed—soft, cruel. “That’s the point.”

He moved closer. Slow. Controlled. Dangerous. “You think you’re slick? Think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

“Oh, I know you know,” you said, spritzing one last cloud of perfume. “That’s why you’re pressed.”

His jaw clenched. “You want attention that bad, huh?”

“No, I just want peace,” you snapped. “But since I can’t get that with you? I’ll take shots and fine men instead.”

His brow twitched. You saw it. The mask slipping.

“You out here dressing like bait,” he hissed. “Shaking your ass for men who couldn’t handle a woman like you if they tried.”

“And yet I let you handle me,” you snapped. “That was my first mistake.”

He laughed under his breath. Low. Cold. “You think they’re gonna love you the way I did?”

You turned. Dead in his face.

“That wasn’t love, Sukuna. That was control. Possession. Ego.” You cocked your head. “You never loved me. You collected me.”

“Be careful how you talk to me,” he growled.

“Or what?” you stepped closer. “You’ll call another girl like you did last week? Slide into some DMs? Save it. You ain’t even discreet.”

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”

“You’re right,” you smiled. “Neither does loyalty—on you.”

His hand slammed against the wall beside your head. Not touching. Just close enough to remind you. That he was still the storm you used to beg for.

“You go out that door,” he said, voice like velvet dipped in venom, “Don’t act surprised when I remind the world whose name you used to scream.”

You stared him down. No fear. Just fire.

“I don’t scream your name anymore, Sukuna. I moan my own.”

Silence.

Hot.

Breathless.

He didn’t speak again. Didn’t have to.

Because you stepped right past him—heels sharp on hardwood, hips preaching sermons—and whispered over your shoulder:

“Go ahead and watch. You’ll see this dress from the back when I’m walking away from everything you couldn’t give me.”

Then you were gone.

And the room, once holy in his dominion, smelled like your perfume and defiance.

The bass was rude—shaking your bones and making your drink vibrate in your hand.

Sweat-slick bodies bounced to the rhythm under neon lights. Glitter shimmered on sticky skin. You were three shots deep and finally felt like yourself again.

Alive.

Unbothered.

Untouchable.

“BITCH, YOU LOOK TOO GOOD TO BE DEPRESSED,” Nobara screamed into your ear, throwing her arm around you as you both danced with drinks in hand. She looked snatched in leather and attitude, hips moving like sin itself.

Maki spun beside her, toned arms in the air, grinning like she just robbed a man of his wallet and his pride.

You threw your head back laughing, your body rolling with the beat, your dress clinging to every curve like it was scared to let go. It wasn’t just a pop-out—it was a comeback. And you knew the room felt it.

You were outside.

Free of Sukuna’s shadow. His rules. His mood swings.

Let him sit in that empty penthouse and wonder who had their hands on you now.

You didn’t owe him shit anymore.

Your gloss was poppin’. Your waist was tiny. Your phone was on Do Not Disturb. And there were plenty of eyes on you.

One pair in particular.

You felt him before you saw him.

Tall. Smirking. Radiating heat and danger dressed in all white like a fallen angel.

Gojo Satoru.

You locked eyes from across the bar.

He was leaning against the counter with a drink in one hand and mischief in the other. White hair messy, lips wet, shirt unbuttoned low. He took one slow sip while his gaze dragged over you—like he was already imagining you naked.

You raised a brow.

He grinned.

Challenge accepted.

You strutted over, hips swinging like revenge. He didn’t wait for pleasantries.

“You’re not allowed to look that good and be sad,” he said, cocking his head. “It’s bad for everyone else’s self-esteem.”

You tilted your head, biting your straw. “Who said I was sad?”

His eyes flicked down, lingering. “So you’re just naturally devastating? Dangerous combo.”

You leaned in close, lips brushing his ear. “I’m outside tonight. You should be scared.”

He chuckled—low, full of interest. “Oh, I’m not scared, sweetheart. I’m curious.”

Your hand grazed his chest as you turned away, disappearing into the crowd without looking back.

But you knew he followed.

You let your body move to the beat, arms raised, eyes closed, hips rolling slow. He was behind you in seconds, hands respectfully hovering—waiting for permission.

You gave it with a glance over your shoulder.

And damn… he could move.

He danced like a man who wanted to ruin you. Close enough to tease, never touching where he shouldn’t. His fingers found your waist, your thighs, the back of your neck—and every place he touched felt hotter than the last.

“You single?” he breathed against your ear.

You smirked. “I'm outside.. so that means I'm single..”

He laughed, deep and dirty. “Good. I don’t like sharing.”

The lights shifted—red, then purple, then pulsing to the rhythm like a heartbeat on the brink.

The DJ slowed the tempo, slipping into something filthier, heavier. A track that oozed sweat and sin. The kind of song that demanded hips grinding and breath shared between parted lips.

You felt him before you saw him.

Gojo’s presence was like heat crawling down your spine. His voice was a slow whisper behind you, low and cocky.

“You sure you can handle what comes with being outside?”

You looked over your shoulder, lashes low, a smirk curling on your glossed lips.

“Why don’t you show me?”

That was all it took.

His hand slid around your waist—confident, not pushy. Just enough to guide, to claim space without caging you. His other hand grazed the top of your thigh, fingers flirting with the slit of your dress like they were trying to behave but forgot how.

You pressed your back to his chest, slow and deliberate, rolling your hips into him as the beat dropped. His breath hitched—and it was delicious.

“So what's the chance of you coming home with me tonight?” he muttered against the shell of your ear, lips barely touching skin.

“Mhm... let me think on it.” you whispered back.

Gojo moved with you like a secret—fluid, effortless, like he’d studied your body long before this moment. His hips matched yours, slow grind to slow grind, his thigh between yours just enough to make you clench.

His hands weren’t still anymore. One trailed up your side, caressing the dip of your waist. The other rested on your stomach, fingers spread wide like he needed to feel every inch you gave him.

And your body?

You let it melt against his—head tilted back, breath shaky, thighs tightening around the rhythm of it all.

The music pulsed.

You rocked.

He followed.

It was more than dancing. It was foreplay in public.

Gojo leaned in, lips brushing your temple, voice rough and low.

“Tell me to stop.”

You turned your head, your lips ghosting across his.

“Then stop being so good at it.”

That broke him.

His hand slid lower—dangerously so—just enough to remind you how much restraint he was clinging to.

“How single are you, really?” he asked.

You rolled your hips deeper into his, feeling the proof of his interest pressed right against your ass.

“Single enough to let you maybe.. home,” you purred, “but not desperate enough to make it easy.”

He groaned—visibly.

You bit your lip and turned in his arms, hands sliding up his chest, grabbing him by the collar.

“Don’t fall in love tonight,” you warned.

He grinned, eyes dark with want.

“Too late.”

And as your bodies moved together in the heat of the crowd, mouths brushing, skin slick, hands exploring in the dark...

Sukuna watched from above.

And his patience? Gone.

You didn’t hear the front doors crash open over the bass.

But the energy shifted.

The air thickened like a storm was rolling through the room, like God himself was about to smite somebody—and it wasn’t long before the crowd started to part.

Sukuna didn’t walk in.

He marched.

Two of his boys flanked him, guns under coats, jaws locked. But they weren’t the problem.

He was.

Black leather jacket thrown open, shirtless underneath, tattoos on full display, chain swinging with every heavy step. His hair was pulled back. His eyes were glowing—wild with fury, red and sharp like they’d been pulled from a battlefield.

And the moment he saw you?

Chest to chest with Gojo.

Lips barely apart.

His trigger slipped.

“Y/N.”

You froze. Gojo tensed behind you. The music was still playing but it didn’t matter—he was here now.

You turned slowly, and when your eyes locked with Sukuna’s, you felt it in your bones.

This wasn’t about jealousy.

This was war.

He was already pulling the piece from his waistband before anyone could stop him.

“Sukuna, don’t—!” you yelled, but it was too late.

BOOM!

The ceiling lit up with the first warning shot—shattering the strobe light, sending screams through the club. Glass rained. People dropped.

Gojo moved fast, spinning you behind him.

“What the fuck?!” someone screamed.

The crowd broke like waves in a storm—people ducking, scattering, heels flying, drinks spilling.

Sukuna didn’t aim at you.

He aimed at the space around you.

At the air Gojo was breathing.

“You think you can fuckin’ touch her?” Sukuna snarled, stepping forward, gun now aimed dead at Gojo’s face. “You think you get to look at her like that?”

“Easy,” Gojo growled, stepping forward. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“I’ll end you.”

“Try.”

And just like that—

Fists. Gunshots. Chaos.

Sukuna lunged like a wild animal. Gojo ducked the first swing, but it didn’t matter—Sukuna was unhinged, possessed. The fight spilled across the dance floor, people screaming, bodies slamming into tables, security too scared to jump in.

You watched in horror as Sukuna threw Gojo against a speaker.

Blood hit the floor.

“YOU THINK SHE’S YOURS?” Sukuna roared, grabbing a bottle and smashing it across the wall. “Think again, pussy.”

You screamed his name—but he didn’t hear it. Or maybe he did. And didn’t care.

You were no longer at the center of his world. You were the spark that burned the whole building down.

Gojo was bloodied—but smiling, cocky even.

“Damn,” he coughed, wiping blood from his mouth, “You fight like you fuck—messy and loud.”

That pushed Sukuna over the edge.

Gun raised. Arm cocked.

You stepped in front of Gojo.

“DON’T.”

The club was silent now—sirens wailing somewhere in the distance. The barrel of Sukuna’s gun was pressed to your chest. His eyes? Wrecked.

“You done?” you hissed. “You done throwing your little tantrum?”

His jaw ticked. Eyes feral.

And before you could blink—

“The fuck—SUKUNA!”

You were off the ground.

Thrown over his shoulder like a ragdoll.

The club gasped.

“PUT ME DOWN!” you screamed, pounding your fists into his back as he stormed toward the back exit—sirens or not, cops or not, he was done playing nice.

“You not outside no more,” he growled, giving your ass a sharp, possessive smack. The kind that echoed over the bass still thudding from the speakers.

“Sukuna! I swear to god—!”

“Swear to whoever you want,” he muttered, kicking the back door open. “You were mine before this little ‘pop-out’ bullshit. And you’re still mine now.”

You wriggled, but he only gripped tighter—one hand flat on the back of your thigh, fingers sliding dangerously close to where your dress didn’t cover.

“You gonna act like a problem?” he growled in your ear. “Then I’ma treat you like one.”

Flashlights shined in the distance. Voices. Cops calling for backup.

But Sukuna didn’t stop.

He dragged you through the alley like the world didn’t matter.

Like he was the law.

Like your body belonged to him—and you just forgot.

“You think I give a fuck who was dancing with you?” he snarled. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill the next one. I’ll kill the whole damn club if it means reminding you who the fuck you belong to.”

“I don’t belong to anyone!” you shouted, fists pounding.

But your breath hitched when his palm smacked your ass again—harder this time.

He stopped walking. Just long enough to whisper:

“Say that again.”

Silence.

Your lips parted.

But nothing came out.

Because deep down? You liked the way your name sounded in his mouth. You liked being snatched out the club like a prize. And he knew it.

“You outside?” he muttered, voice low and dangerous. “Nah. You home now.”

He opened the car door, threw you in the backseat like luggage, and climbed in after you.

And the city?

It burned behind him.

The apartment door slammed behind you hard enough to rattle the picture frames.

He didn’t turn on the lights.

Didn’t say a word.

Just kicked off his boots and yanked off his jacket—blood still smeared on his knuckles, his chest rising and falling like he was barely holding back the beast clawing beneath his skin.

You stood in the middle of the living room, breath ragged, dress rumpled from being tossed into the backseat like contraband.

“You done acting like a lunatic?” you snapped, voice cracking from the adrenaline still pumping through your veins.

His head tilted.

“You done acting like a whore?”

The slap of your palm across his cheek echoed.

And he grinned.

Slow.

Dangerous.

“Oh, that’s cute,” he murmured, wiping the corner of his mouth. “You outside for one night and now you think you run shit?”

“I ran from you.”

“And look where you ended up,” he growled, closing the space between you. “Right back where you started.”

His hand wrapped around your throat—not squeezing, just claiming. His thumb brushed your jaw, eyes wild with something dark, something sick.

“You wanna act like you’re free?” he whispered, pressing you against the wall. “Then why the fuck were you dancing like that? Huh? Rubbing your ass all over him like you forgot who fucks you stupid every night?”

“Fuck you,” you spat.

“Exactly,” he snarled, crashing his mouth onto yours.

It wasn’t a kiss—it was a declaration.

His tongue slid past your lips, swallowing your moan. One hand gripped your jaw while the other slid down your thigh, yanking your dress up without patience, without grace. You tried to push him away, fists against his chest—but he caught your wrists in one hand, slamming them over your head against the wall.

“Thought you were done with me, huh?” he growled, lips dragging down your neck. “Thought you could dance with some pretty-boy in white and I wouldn’t notice?”

His teeth grazed your collarbone.

You gasped, back arching.

“You think I don’t see you? Every little move, every little game you play—bitch, you want me to chase you.”

“I don’t—” you started, but he cut you off with a sharp smack to your ass.

“Lie again.”

You whimpered.

And it broke him.

He grabbed you by the hips and carried you to the couch like you weighed nothing—dropping you down, hands everywhere now. Gripping. Spreading. Possessing.

“You’re not outside,” he growled against your ear. “You’re mine. This pussy? Mine. These legs? Mine. That mouth that talked back all night?” He shoved two fingers between your lips. “Mine.”

You moaned around them, eyes rolling back.

He leaned in, voice lower now. Cruel. Worshipful.

“You can scream all you want, baby. Ain’t nobody gonna hear you. Not out there. Not anymore. You’re home.”

The belt hit the floor with a heavy slap.

He didn’t even look down.

His eyes were locked on you—wide, wild, hungry. Like a beast that had stalked its prey through a city of flashing lights and false confidence just to drag it home and devour it.

“You wanna play outside?” Sukuna rasped, crawling over you on the couch, his hands gripping your thighs and yanking them apart like he was tearing open a gift. “Nah, baby. You forgot where you live.”

Your voice cracked. “I don’t belong to you.”

He chuckled darkly, licking his lips.

“You will.”

Then he dove.

Mouth hot, cruel, unrelenting between your thighs. No warning. No soft kisses. Just tongue and teeth and vengeance. He sucked like he was trying to pull your soul out—like your moans were owed to him, like they were apologies.

Your back arched. A scream clawed from your throat.

“Louder,” he growled against your heat. “Let the fucking neighbors know you ain’t outside no more.”

You grabbed his hair—tugging, writhing, trying to run from the overstimulation.

But Sukuna didn’t believe in mercy.

“You ran from me,” he hissed, dragging you closer by your thighs, his mouth soaked, chin wet. “Let some other man put his hands on you… You think I’m gonna forgive that shit?”

He stood. Unzipped.

Thick. Veiny. Already dripping.

And pissed.

He flipped you like a ragdoll, dragging your hips to the edge of the couch, forcing your legs open with a firm slap to your inner thigh.

“This pussy been disrespecting me,” he muttered, lining himself up. “Time to discipline it.”

Then he slammed in.

Hard.

You cried out, spine bowing.

He didn’t let you adjust. Didn’t ask.

Just grabbed your throat and started to ruin you.

“This what you needed?” he growled, pounding into you like you said something wrong. “Not the tequila. Not the girls. Not that soft-ass motherfucker in white. This. Me.”

Your nails clawed at the couch. Your moans? Incoherent. Drooling. Mindless.

But he wasn’t done.

Sukuna leaned down, lips brushing your ear, his hand sliding between your legs to toy with your clit while he kept thrusting.

“You walk back in that club tomorrow and try this outside shit again?” he whispered, breath hot and venomous, “I’ll fuck you right there on the table. Make the DJ cut the beat. Make every single one of those bitches watch while I show ‘em what kind of freak you really are.”

Your legs shook. Your body started to fold—but he held you open.

“Nuh-uh,” he growled. “You take every inch of this. You asked for it. You earned it.”

His hand clapped against your ass again, grabbing a handful, watching it jiggle under his palm.

“You thought you were free?” he groaned, slamming into you deeper. “You’re mine. My name’s still carved in this pussy. Let me hear it.”

You choked on your moan—eyes glassy, lips trembling.

“S–Sukuna—”

“Louder.”

“Sukuna—fuck!”

“Yeah?” he growled, fucking you faster now. “What else?”

“I—I’m yours,” you gasped.

He pulled your hair back, forcing your head up.

“Damn right you are.”

Your orgasm hit like a train wreck—loud, shaking, undeniable. He didn’t stop. He fucked you through it, past it, until you were a sobbing, shaking mess collapsed on the cushions.

He finally pulled out, his cock glistening, flushed, still throbbing.

“Open your mouth.”

You did.

And he slipped his fingers in first—wet with your own cum.

“Swallow it.”

You obeyed.

Eyes glassy. Mind fogged.

Body wrecked.

And Sukuna?

He smirked, dragging his thumb across your slick lower lip.

“There she is,” he whispered. “My girl.”

BOOMMBAAAYAHHH

159 notes · View notes

goobstars · 2 days ago

Note

can I request literally whatever with Ticci Toby? pref romantic and fluffy but it's up to you!!

𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

summary : what it's like to date ticci toby.

tags : profanity, mentions of killing, blood, violence, and romance.

note : the big '25 and your girl still likes creepypasta. I TRIED, I PROMISE !

— no sense of personal space.

— he doesn't—usually—intentionally invade your bubble, he just likes being close to you. it's hard to go somewhere without him trailing behind you, and if you ask him to leave, he'll look at you like you just kicked a puppy in front of him.

— very dramatic, by the way.

"toby, can you leave for a moment?" "why?" his question was asked with genuine curiosity while he stared at you blankly, and you blinked at him a few times. "because i'm trying to wrap up the gift i got you?" "just say you ha-hate me." "toby, no—"

— he's obsessed with you, and if you ever deny it, everyone around the mansion is going to look at you like you're the craziest person there.

— even ben agrees that toby is obsessed with you, and he's barely even around anyone since he's always in his room.

— you're literally his world, and he would do anything for you. if you asked him to jump off a cliff, he would do it without hesitation.

— it's not like he would feel the impact, anyways.

— speaking of that, dating toby would include you having a heart attack every time he comes back from a mission.

— since toby is numb to pain, he doesn't know when he gets injured or not. even when he does notice his wounds, he just shrugs them off. he's literally watched someone stab him in his stomach, and he just blinked at them before killing them with his hatchet.

— he kept that knife, by the way. when he returned from his mission, he showed it off like some prize while revealing his—horribly done—stitches.

— so, when he comes back from missions, you're usually the one to patch him up. he'd be like a fussy toddler the whole time, though.

"can you lift up your arm?" "i'm fine." you winced as his neck cracked, and he lifted up his free hand to rub the back of his neck. despite his statement, he still lifted up his arm. the gash he had gotten went in a horizontal line from his spine to his ribs, and you frowned at the sight before grabbing some gauze. "how did this happen?" the man shrugged, and you hastily placed a hand on his shoulder as you sighed. "try not to move a whole lot, please. i don't want the wound to open up more." "it's just a paper-papercut—" "i can almost see one of your ribs, toby." "really?" you watched as toby leaned his head down a bit as he attempted to eye into the cut, and you placed a large gauze pad against his side before grasping his free hand. you placed his hand against the gauze before pushing down firmly. "hold that for me so i can get your back..." "but i'm fi-fine! this is taking too long—" "toby." at your firm tone, he frowned at you as he let out a huff. his hand remained pressed against the gauze while you moved over to his back, and you both remained in silence as you started to clean up his wound.

— you also have to constantly remind him to put on chapstick. when you first met him, his lips would always be chapped given how he constantly chewed on them and licked them, so now you make sure he always has chapstick on him.

— which he just licks off when you turn your back, or he attempts to bite the chapstick itself.

— also, when it comes to kissing toby, just know that he's very passionate about it. he will literally kiss you like he's leaving for war and is never coming back, but in reality, you're just getting up to get a snack.

— cuddling with him would be a bit difficult since he's constantly shifting and jolting, but you'd get used to it.

— after missions, he would probably pounce on you while he was still covered in blood. he'd smell horrible, but he doesn't care; he missed you too much to care.

— this is fairly random, but do not let him cook or bake with you. you're going to ask if the water is done boiling, and he's sticking his hand right in there. or, if you want to know if the oven is done preheating, his head is going in it.

— but despite the fact you've banned him from helping you in the kitchen, he'd still be behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist while he watches you cook.

— he does it because one, he wants to be close to you, and two, he likes to snatch things like cookies or whatever food you're making over your shoulder before running off.

— a sassy man, by the way.

— you'd ask him a simple question, and he's raising an eyebrow like you're stupid.

— final thing, he's a really jealous person. he constantly has to have a hand on you so everyone knows that you're taken.

— and if someone flirts with you, they're on the news the next day.

#𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 #·˚ ༘ ~ writing #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #cp #cp x reader #cp x you #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #toby #toby x reader #toby x you

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plantcomic · 1 day ago

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Hi! This month's plant chapter is a bit different! It's not canonical for one. Webcomics Garden -discord server (is very cool and if you're thinking about making webcomics or discussing the art if it, you should join) is having a comic mashup event - we have to create conflict of some sorts between our comic and our opponent's.

I got paired with Deo (from Time and Time Again fame). Visiting characters are a time travelling vampire duo that can't stop looking into local supernatural mysteries.

It's also a plant dracula au, a cursed thing that borned in the same discord server. You don't need to know a thing about it, just accept that everything's the same but there's also a dracula there. Vexes me. He's a server darling. (His other two creators are Levi, who makes Ruinous Fortune, a fucking spectacular dark fantasy story about a young goblin trying to escape their tyrannical father; and reraser, who also hosts this event, and makes Hyperdriven, a scifi about a ragtag gang of losers surviving in tomorrow's gig economy. It's hysterical, they have a space amazing race and it fucking SLAPS.) This is long, so most of it is under readmore. Some content warning for biting and strangling and stabbing but it's on par with plant violence in general

See you next month, july has been crazy busy haha--

#dracula au

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dxmurewrites · 1 day ago

Text

Call on Me

Just a lil something about Eric that's been on my mind. Part one of a two shot series!

There is some smut in this, but none between reader and Eric. Part two will be the conjugal visit 🙂‍↔️

pairing: (aged up) Eric Love x Fem!Reader

summary: You had been dating Eric for a few years now, having been used to just phone visitations and swapped letters. Upon learning that Eric would become eligible for conjugal visits, you take it upon yourself to break the news, in the mean time, you send your boyfriend some gifts.

Part One

unedited.

wc: 7.1k

warnings: a little canon divergence obviously, established relationship, (reader has hair) fluff, coarse language, mentions of prison (obvs), blood, bruises, fighting/violence (none towards reader), desperate Eric!, mutual bullying, sexual tension, nude pictures, male masturbation, mentions of titty-fucking and oral, lingerie, bodily fluids.

let me know what you think!

______

"Baby."

"Love," You reply with a grin, matching his as the wired phone rests in your hand, pressing against your ear. His actions mirror yours, and he shifts on the built in seat of the prison, resting his elbows against the small counter. "You get all dressed up for me?"

He sat as if he had been sitting there longer than usual, comfortable and waiting for your arrival.

Eric rolls his eyes at the same joke you make at every phone session. "Obviously," He still goes along with it, much to your amusement. "Got all dolled up for my lady."

"Mm hm," You nod, looking him over once he settles in his chair. There weren't any obvious cuts or bruises on his skin, and you relaxed just so slightly. "I can tell."

His grey tracksuit hung slightly loose on him, harbouring old stains you had been meaning to ask him about.

Thick glass separates the two of you. A stark and cruel reminder of how close yet so far your boyfriend was.

This was routine for you now.

A grey and dull room. Plastic chairs bolted to the ground. A thick pane of scratched glass filled with little indentations of past inmates names and tags.

It was busier than usual being a weekend - partners subdued with children fidgeting in their laps, guards watching intently for any unusual activity.

There was no place you'd rather be.

Eric's eyes were tired, a reminder that behind those walls he was constantly on guard, constantly on edge. But he never let you worry, never let you see him without a cheeky smile that managed to light up your usual dull booth.

He plays with the wire of his receiver, looking you over this time.

You tuck your chin slightly, bringing your phone a little closer in an attempt to drown out the background noise.

"You alright?" You ask softly, watching as his blue eyes continue gazing over your upper body.

There was nothing remotely sexy about your outfit, seeing as there was a strict dress code in the prison.

But it didn't matter, and Eric lets his eyes linger over your unzipped jumper, raising his eyebrow at the cleavage that peaked out.

He continues to grin, his voice muffled slightly through the plastic phone. "Better now, you know seein' ya makes me whole week yeah?"

You just nod, biting into your lip like a bad habit as you smile, knowing he was being truthful.

"What 'bout you darlin, you been busy?" He continues, nodding towards your hair, seeing it wasn't it's usual style.

You shrugged almost sheepishly, having gone out of your comfort zone and gotten your hair done. "Thought I'd change things up a little," a finger reaches up to adjust a looser strand. "Do you like it?"

He nods eagerly, looking it over. "Looks real pretty, but you'd make a fuckin' bald head look good I reckon."

A playful scoff leaves your lips followed by a small chuckle, and Eric revels in the sound, already considering your limited session a success.

"What about you, everything okay at your end? Eatin' proper?" It was a question you always asked, not wanting to pry too much into the other gruesome and unpleasant woes of prison.

He shrugs, but nods again. "Got everythin' I need, don't ya worry," Eric leans further, both elbows now pressed against his counter as he smiles. "Already told the boys here that I got a woman who tries fattenin' me up."

Your eyebrows raised, once again taking in his slightly loose tracksuit. "Yeah, 'cause you're a real porker aren't you Eric."

"Only when I'm porking you love," he winks, and your eyes widen, reaching out to smack at the glass. "Ouch."

"Keep sayin' shit like that Eric and you'll get calls taken off you," You look around embarrassed, hoping no one heard his stupid attempt at a joke. The man hadn't gotten laid since before he was sentenced. "Bellend."

Your voice dipped as you said his name, and he throws his head back in laughter, his teeth on display as other inmates look at him in annoyance. Eric adjusts the phone once more - switching ears, pressing it further as he straightens up.

"Have you been good at least?" You leaned in just slightly, eyes narrowing as you looked over his now free hand.

Eric shifts, his grin fading just a little to show something softer underneath. "Always, no mix ups, still keeping my head down yeah."

You exhale, tension in your shoulders as you eye his hand again. "What's the bruises on your knuckles from then?"

He pauses at your words, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at his palm, turning the hand over to look at the yellow hues that decorate his pale skin. "Ain't from any fights, don't you worry."

You wanted to believe him, but given his history with the other inmates, the idea of immediately taking his word for it didn't hit you.

As if sensing your hesitation, Eric holds his hand up to the glass, pressing it against the cool surface. "Promise."

He did it every time he wanted you to relax, his own little quirk, and you reluctantly nod, reaching up to press your own hand against his, feeling the cool material between that separated you.

It was the closest you had to feeling his touch, and you'd be lying if you said it was enough.

You missed his warmth, his hands on you - even the innocent touches, his hands on your waist to show his claim. The kisses before bed, the annoying way he'd steal all the blankets. All of it.

“Okay,” you say gently. “I trust you.”

His hand presses even further into the glass, wondering that if he tried hard enough - that he could imagine the softness of your skin once again.

There was a small silence as you just looked at each other. Taking in everything and somehow nothing all the same. It was the same every session, but it was still comforting. You just stared into his eyes, ignoring the distant chatter, the guards, the buzzing lights above.

It was just him. Only Eric.

He did the same, his gaze loving as he sighed.

Eric tilts his head a little, his voice dipping to that low, teasing softness he reserved just for you. "You're so beautiful, ya know that love? I miss you somethin' bad."

He would say the same thing every time. He never wanted you to forget how it sounded to hear his praises, to hear his appreciation and love for you.

You both pull away from the glass as you shrug again, use to rebutting his compliments, to which he'd always tut at you, telling you to accept them.

A buzzing sound goes off, startling you as usual. The rooms cruel way of telling visitors that there was only five minutes left.

Every visit was timed to the second, every goodbye and 'I love you' following sadly too close behind every hello.

Your back straightens as you compose yourself, before you snap your fingers, having nearly forgotten one of the main reasons you had been excited for this weeks session.

"Gift box!" You tap at the glass with your nail, your face lit up as you flashed your boyfriend a toothy grin. "Shit, nearly forgot."

"You what?" He questions, eyes closing in confusion.

"I got a letter that your wards opening' gift exchanges," you continue, now swapping the phone to your other ear as your wrist was getting tired. "I can send you a box of stuff - bunch of rules 'n shit on what I can include, but that's exciting yeah?"

His interest had piked, and he rests his chin on his free hand as he thinks over the revelation.

Eric knew gifting was normal in the prison, many of the other inmates receiving items from their families often, but he had never been eligible due to his poor behaviour.

"What're you thinkin'?" He asks, wondering what he'd be allowed to receive. His mind had honestly gone blank, having already gone so long without pleasantries and little things one would usually take for granted.

"Well, most things on the 'not allowed' part of the list are a given," Your tongue sticks out slightly as you reach down inside your bag beside your foot, wiggling around for the piece of paper you had saved.

Feeling the crumpled letter, Eric watches in amusement as you press the phone between your cheek and shoulder, using both hands to open envelop.

Once it was unravelled, you start listing off the things he can't ask for, nothing he would have considered anyway. "Anything you can think of Eric?"

He shakes his head. "Surprise me love."

"I've already got a box back home half full," you admit, nodding at your mans shocked expression. "Yeah, got some of your favourite books, sweets 'n stuff," you begin to list again, watching as Eric just smiles at your words.

"Even threw in my old iPod, you're not allowed wired headphones so I thought maybe some bluetooth ones, I've already downloaded a bunch of playlists and g-"

"You don't 'ave to buy me anything," he cuts you off, already hating the idea of you spending money on him. "Can listen to music without them."

"I've already bought them," your shoulders just shrug at Eric's expression, but eventually he starts to smile, shaking his head. "Put some teabags in too."

He snorts, but deep down he was more appreciative over something as small as a proper tea. Not that he'd ever admit it.

Eric begins to just stare as you start yapping away at more items you were thinking of including in his gift box, your voice muffling. His chest warmed, his stomach filling with that familiar feeling only you managed to grace him with.

He was utterly and completely in love with you.

It always shocked him how much you truly cared - how much you loved and supported him even when he got himself thrown in this giant concrete shit-hole.

He would never voice it, but there was always a lingering fear that every phone session would be the last - that you would eventually come to your senses and realise you were too good for him and leave forever.

But it never came, and instead you were here, telling him about all the presents you had packed away, how you were already planning the next.

Eric hadn't even realised you had finished speaking, your eyebrow raised at his expression, knowing he hadn't been focusing. "Wanker."

It was a jest, and you both immediately begin to laugh, you at the way his eyes drift when he's not listening, and him at your insult.

Another buzzer goes off, signalling that your time was up, and your shoulders sag.

You reach up again - having already thrown the letter back in your bag, pressing your palm flat against the glass like before. Eric did the same, your fingers just a pane apart.

"I love you," he said quietly, just enough for you to hear. "I'll see you next week yeah?"

"Always," you assured him, ignoring the guard that had come to stand behind you. "I love you too, be good Love."

The phones clicked off just in time for him to hear your words, and he nods, his side of the room now quiet as he hung his phone up.

You didn't move straight away, looking at him one more time, memorising the boyish grin he gave you - the soft crease between his brows, and he nods towards the exit, urging you to go before you got in trouble.

Eventually you stood, pulling your bag along with you as you blew him a small kiss, to which he pursed his own lips with a wink that was undeniable Eric.

With a final nod, you walked away, not looking back.

There was no need too, he always made sure you were gone before he left his own chair. The reassurance that you were safely out of this depressing place just enough to keep him going for the day.

It's just gone half ten in the morning when a guard had called Eric's name in his wing. His heart had jumped slightly, as it always did when someone called for him in here.

Making the trek, he reluctantly made his way to the calling guard, Mark, or was it Mike? Eric wasn't sure, nor did he care. But then he saw it: a box. Decently sized. Taped up from the bottom up with his name written on this side in familiar handwriting.

A little heart dotted the 'I' in his name, and he exhaled with a little chuckle.

He tries not to grin too hard as he signs a form handed to him, ignoring the way the guard rolls his eyes, pushing the box towards him - commenting on how there is some weight to it.

Your phone session had only been a few days prior and he hadn't been expecting the delivery so soon - but he couldn't deny the eagerness that filled his chest at what possibly hid inside.

The guard was right, the box was heavy, and he huffed as he lugged the large cardboard box back to his cell, ignoring the jests and comments from his friends in passing.

With the large steel door clunked shut behind him, Eric sits cross-legged on his cot, seeing that his gift had already been opened - no doubt by the guards checking for any contraband.

It felt like Christmas.

He was already beaming, wide and stupid. Chuffed didn't even begin to describe the feeling.

The first thing he was greeted by were books, both worn and new, and he pulls them out one by one, running his hand over the covers before stacking them beside his bed on the built in shelf.

You had even thrown in some comics, remembering he had mentioned in the past about his infatuation with old school stories.

"Oh here we are," He whistles lowly, seeing the black, sleek iPod resting on a box of opened wireless headphones. A sticky note was attached to the back in your handwriting.

"Gotta charge it in the common room, not allowed wires x."

He chuckles, thinking about how you really did go all out. He scrolled through quickly, seeing as it was already on, noticing you had already downloaded a number of playlists.

There were sweets too - loads of them. Haribo, strawberry laces, fizzy cola bottles, even those sour watermelon things he used to throw at you to get your attention when you were busy.

He tosses the numerous bags to the end of his bed. “Fuckin' hell man,” he mutters to himself, grinning. "Gonna get right fat."

At the bottom of the box, lie a bunch of photos in a ziplock bag, an envelop and a travel sized bottle of cologne. Eric reaches for the envelop first, but sees your writing again - just three words.

"Open me last."

Shrugging at the warning, he instead reaches for the ziplock bag, opening and seeing a bunch of printed photos. One of you two on the couch, you snuggling into his neck.

Another of just you, fresh faced and beaming at the camera as you wore one of his shirts, your grin infectious - Eric immediately twisting where he sat on his bed to stick it on the shelf by his head.

There were a couple more, casual pictures of you: some in his hoodie, some of the two of you from various dates, all making him smile as he remembered where they were taken.

He piles them along his shelf, sticking some on the wall when he ran out of room.

Already the space felt more his, more inviting. You would be the first thing he saw when he woke up in the morning and the last thing he'd see when his head hit the pillow.

Taking out the remaining gifts, Eric snorts seeing you had stayed true to your word. Teabags, socks, a beanie, even one of his hoodies he knew you loved to steal, but there was something different about it - this time it smelt of you.

He would recognise your perfume anywhere, and he closed his eyes as he lifted the fabric to his nose, inhaling the familiar scent.

Eric props the box to the ground, hoodie beside him as his eyes dart from item to item, worried he may have missed something.

His pale fingers hover over your iPod again, already picturing his head back on his pillow, headphones in, eyes shut with music he hadn't heard in years singing back to him.

He hides the iPod carefully under his pillow, followed by the headphones. His ward knew better than to fuck around with him or his stuff, but the threat of his stuff being jacked was still there regardless.

Your choice of socks were next.

Most were plain, black and white and navy, but there was one pair that stood out.

Bright red with little frogs all over, the little things smoking cigarettes.

He laughs proper, the sound bouncing off of his cell walls as he throws the socks to his clothing basket in the corner of his cell.

“Bet you pissed yourself throwin' them in," he mutters, grinning from ear to ear at the thought of you buying the pair on a whim. "Idiot."

He'd wear them to bed if anything, knowing he wouldn't be caught dead wearing them out of his four walls. His cologne was last, and he twists the cap, bringing it closer to inhale his past signature scent.

His eyes flutter shut and for a second, he feels like he was back in your shared bedroom in your flat, lights low, your head on his bare chest and his scent lingering in your sheets as you traced his many tattoos.

Finally was your letter, or what he had assumed was a letter, but as he picked up the envelope, he could feel something slightly bulky inside.

He turns the paper upside down, small squares falling out followed by another little sticky note.

"I love you."

His grin hadn't faltered, his finger running underneath your words as he sticks it to his wall beside your pictures.

At first, he thought they were just more selfies, albeit smaller, this time in polaroid form - but Eric's breath hitches in his throat as he starts checking them out one by one.

Eric’s breathing is thick. His grin disappearing and being replaced by a tensed jaw and wide eyes.

The first one could've passed as innocent enough.

You in bed, wearing the hoodie again, your legs bare and thighs on display with a familiar smirk. He already knew what was coming before he flipped to the next.

The second - the hoodie had risen, revealing more of your soft skin and lacy baby blue panties, a white bow in the centre.

His jaw clenches at the sight, seeing it was one of the many favourites that you owned. "Fuckin' hell." He mutters under his breath, exhaling slowly.

The following photo, you're perched on the edge of your bed, eyes soft, his hoodie resting beside your legs, arms pressed in front of you. The bra matched your panties, your breasts pushed up by your arms.

Eric lets out another shaky exhale, running a hand over his face as heat begins to seep into his skin.

His pulse jumps, warmth crawling up his neck as he flips to the next. It was the same angle, this time your bra was gone, your tits half on display, nipples peaking through your hand 'bra' as you were biting your lip.

Eric quickly checks his closed door, worried some nosey sod might see what was for his eyes only.

“Christ,” he says under his breath, swallowing the words as he shakes his head. “There's my girl."

He knew it was coming. Should've stopped whilst he could, but his longing and desire to see what had been hidden from him for so long got the better of him.

The rest of the Polaroids were from different angles, your hands no longer covering your breasts, exposing the skin.

You were posed in all different ways, giving him all the shots of your tits, your ass that looked even more full in your positions - desperate for his hands or his teeth.

One of them, you were on all fours, back arched with your hair flicked over your shoulder. Your clothed pussy just slightly peaking out, and Eric threw his head back against his cell wall, his free hand already reaching down to palm himself through his grey sweats.

He didn't care anymore, his cock had started getting hard from the first photo alone. His erection strained against the confines of his pants, growing by the second as his hand glided over the throbbing shaft.

His hand drifted back to his waistband, his fingers toying with the hem as he contemplated fucking his fist to your pictures.

Eric puts the photos down, his eyebrows furrowing as he realises one had stuck to another, and he pulls them apart gently.

He didn't stand a chance.

His hand already slipping beneath the waistband of his sweatpants to wrap around his aching cock.

The last photo was of you on your knees, looking up to the camera with your beautiful smile on display.

Your hands were on your thighs, breasts free and your nipples pebbled, but god, seeing your eyes looking up at him through your lashes was nearly enough to make him cum in his sweats alone.

His eyebrows quivered, a low groan escaping his lips as he began to stroke himself slowly beneath his pants.

"Fuck sake," he breathed, his voice strained with pleasure. "Fuckin' tease." Eric's words were choppy, his breathing growing heavier as he lost himself in the fantasy of your bare body, wishing nothing more than to be there with you in your room.

A small sigh leaves his lips, whispering your name. His words sound strangled and thick with desire, and he groans a little louder, his cock throbbing in his hand as he drank in the sight of your perfect fucking tits.

"My fuckin' girl," he growled, stroking himself even faster, dragging his hand up and down his uncut dick underneath his boxers. "Yeah…. Yeah - shit, like that, just like that.”

His blue eyes were dark and intense, filled with a drunken lust as he looked over the various photos sprawled out on his bed.

He panted, his hips rocking into his fist as his face winced in pleasure. Precum leaked from his reddened tip, drooling down the sides of his cock, helping to lubricate every stroke.

Eric licks his lips, his gaze locked onto the picture of you on all fours as he continued to work his shaft with desperate need. It was risky, usually jerking off in the showers when he was alone, but he couldn't stop, not when the sight of you set him off.

He hadn't fucked you in so long, not since he got himself arrested, and hell, usually when he fucked his fist - it was to just the thought of you.

Now, he had numerous little reminders of how you looked under your clothes, not that he had ever truly forgotten.

Your name leaves his lips again, almost in a pleading tone. He places the photo down, reaching for your his hoodie beside him, bunching it in his fist and bringing it to his nose for the second time, almost whining into the fabric as he drinks in your smell.

Eric's eyes close again, grunting in longing as his mind drifts to memories of the last time he had you beneath him. His grip tightens, imagining it was the clench of your warm, soaking pussy around him instead of his fingers.

"Fuck..." he drawls out, his voice muffled by the hoodie, his voice strained with effort in an attempt to hold back his impending release.

His thoughts were low and filthy - breathing growing heavier as he lost himself to the memory of every position he had ever put you in, of your lips wrapped around him, of your own smaller fingers as they'd glide up and down his cock and squeeze his balls.

He pumped his thick cock faster, his hips thrusting into his fist as he chased his high. Eric's eyes opened, the hoodie still wedged between his chest and chin as he smelt you all around him.

God, he couldn't pick what picture to finish too. He loved your breasts, remembering how they looked when they bounced above him, but, fuck - he loved your ass just as much, how much it bounced and jiggled when he fucked you rough and hard from behind.

Eric missed fucking your tits, sliding his cock between the soft flesh until he'd paint your neck and face with his hot cum.

Most of all, he missed sinking into your warm and welcoming body, watching the way your mouth would gasp with each inch he gave you, the way your nails would dig into his back and mark him up for weeks.

"Shit, shit," Eric panted, his body tensing as he neared his climax with each squeezing stroke. ""M'gonna fuck you so good," He whispers, picking the photo where he could see your face the best. "M'yeah, c'mon love, fuckin' show me - fuck."

His words ended in a loud groan, and Eric brings the hoodie back to his mouth, biting into the fabric as his orgasm crashes over him, thick ropes of cum shooting from his throbbing tip as his soaks his boxers and the front of his pants.

Eric's body shudders, panting, his lean frame going rigid as he rides out the waves of his release.

He had cum plenty of times since being sent to prison, but none of the times had felt as intense as this. His shaking hands continued gliding up and down, drowning his hands in his spent until he was borderline whimpering.

Eventually, he leaned his head back against his cell wall, his sweatpants now sporting a wet patch as he pulled his hand out, deciding to wipe the cum from his shaking hand onto his pant leg.

He grins sheepishly to himself, chest rising and falling as he makes sure his hand was relatively clean before bunching your polaroids up.

Eric throws his hoodie to his clothing basket with his free hand, away from any mess, and he pulls his new old iPod out from under his pillow, swapping the hiding place with your risky photos.

"Proper tease mate," he shudders again, reaching down to readjust himself in his soaked boxers. "Proper fuckin' tease."

He eyes the stain before lolling his head around with a sigh, already trying to remember if he had a clean pair of sweats in his cell, but Eric couldn't fight the grin on his face as he looks at one of the innocent pictures of you on his shelf.

A stark difference to the other sneaky photos you had snuck in. He looks down one last time to the sticky note saying 'I love you', his eyebrows furrowing as he flips the paper over, seeing more writing.

"Ash helped me take the pictures before you throw a fit x."

His laugh echoes through his cell again, not even realising the thought hadn't crossed his mind. All of your pictures were hands free, and he shook his head, picturing you asking your best friend to take such tasteful photos.

Fuckin' women.

London was surprisingly sunny this morning, but it's light was short lived, swapped once again for the buzzing lights of the prison.

The visitation area was quieter than last week, only a few visitors stuck in conversations with their loved ones.

The room was cold despite the welcoming change in weather, a reminder of the giant concrete box your boyfriend lived in.

Eric was already in his booth, elbows on the metal counter, receiver already in one hand. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, the hoodie you had sent him was folded in front of him, having clearly been worn before he started to sweat beneath his clothes.

Your heart was beating a little harder than you'd like to admit. You had seen him just a week ago, but time dragged on here - and now you knew he had received your gifts.

The box changed everything.

The sweets were lasting, much to his surprise. The hoodie with your perfume still on it was never too far away from him - even going as far as to sleep with it tucked under his head.

The books - he had already started reading one, having let a friend borrow another.

The photos though.

The photos wrecked him.

Eric had spent nearly everyday since receiving the photos just fucking his fist to the sight of them. Every night he had spent lying in his bed, the sheet over his lap with his jaw clenched, spent and breathless.

He sits up straighter as he sees you being guided in, bag slung over your shoulder as you walk with your head held high. The hand not holding the receiver was tapping at the counter, waiting for you to sit.

You beam at him, and he mouths, "Baby," as you get comfortable, quickly lifting your phone to your ear.

"Hi Love," You grin, watching as Eric's eyes narrow playfully. "You like the socks?"

"Socks?" He repeats with a huff, his voice low, warm and intimate. "Oh baby," His eyes trail over you like a memory being refreshed. He leans forward, eyes narrowing even more, his voice lowering. "You're a right tease y'know that? Real cruel."

The phone felt cold in your hand, but you'd be lying if there wasn't warmth in your cheeks at his words. Eric watches you like a man starved, like he was hungry for something only you could give.

You take a breath and smile softly, shrugging at him. "I take it you liked your presents?"

Eric scoffs at you, but there was no malice behind it.

"Liked?" he repeats again, turning his neck to look on both sides, thankful there weren't any other inmates sitting beside him. "You 'ave any idea how many times I've wanked? I'm runnin' out of clean boxers babe."

Your skin turned hotter at his revelation, and you looked around you too, afraid someone had overhead his crude words. A guard just stands by the door, his eyes barely open as he leans against the wall.

"Sorry," you whisper, but the grin that grew on your lips was a clear indicator that you were anything but apologetic. "Thought you'd need a pick me up."

He exhales sharply, shaking his head at you with a deep smile, crooked, wicked but loving, his eyes crinkling at the action.

"Fuckin' love you, you've got no idea," He pauses, looking at you again for a long second - longer than normal, memorising you again. "Thank you love."

You shrug again, just delighted that he enjoyed your presents, but he tuts at you, tapping at the glass to scold at you.

"Nah nah don't do that, I mean it - thank you for all of it, not just the gifts," he says firmly, hoping you feel him pouring his heart out. "For still showing up for me yeah? For bein' mine."

He groans softly, running a hand down his face before he rests his head in his chin, staring at you adoringly.

"I love you too ya softy," your voice was gentle, reaching up to press your hand up to the glass. "Everything okay at your end? Ruined clothes aside ‘course."

He nods quickly, lips quirking at your quip, his own hand coming up to rest against yours, ignoring the glass between.

The fluorescent light buzzes overhead, almost cartoonishly loud, but you tuned it out, starring at your other half like the world was fading away around you.

"I'm doin' good, real good," he says, happy to admit that he had been on good behaviour still. "Gettin' a gut though, think you packed a whole shop in that box," He looks down to his covered stomach for added affect, and you laughed, knowing that beneath his uniform - he was still the same.

“But nah - I'm good love, already half way through that book on mythology you threw in, good shit that."

You laugh even more, and he perks up at his favourite sound.

The two of you pass conversation for a little more, Eric informing you of what's happening at his end of the glass, and you telling him about how work was going, how you had asked your best friends to help you with taking those pictures after a night of wine and movies.

It was mundane, it was boring to most, but to you - it was your favourite thing in the world.

Wanting to have saved the good news for last, you change hands, swapping the phone over. "I've got something to tell you," you say softly after a quiet beat, tucking in your chin as the phone feels fragile in your hand. "Something good."

Eric perks up even more, his curiosity spiked and lips parting just a little as he utters a little 'yeah?' - urging you to continue.

"I spoke to someone on the board yesterday and well, uh- they've noticed your good behaviour these last few months, said you've been staying clean 'n all," You pause, making sure he was listening intently. He nods, eyebrows twitching unknowingly at your comments.

Eric had a bad history of fighting and having intense brawls with other prisoners and guards in his last ward, having spent a lot of time in solitary at his worst.

"And well, if you stay clean and have no write-ups for another two weeks," He still hadn't caught on, and so you say it with a gentle clarity. "I can apply for conjugal visits."

You watch as the weight of your news hits him. For a second, Eric just stares, blinking - stunned, shock running through him.

Was it his birthday and he didn't know?

Was it fucking Christmas?

Christ, was he dead?

He exhales eventually, like he had been punched in the stomach. He speaks, his voice barely a whisper as it comes out muffled through the phone. "You serious?"

"Mm hm," You nod, smiling as he exhales again. "Serious, you just gotta keep behaving yeah? They said they'll send you a consent form in a fortnight, I've already filled out mine."

"Fuckin' hell," he feels breathless now, his freehand in his hair as a cheshire like smile spreads across his face. "So that means we'll see each other innit, no glass, no phone, none of that shit."

"No phone, no glass," You bite your lip, giving him a knowing look. It was soft, a hint of wickedness. "Just us Eric, isn't that great? You just have to keep your head down, be a good boy."

He swallows hard, and any other time he would've rolled his eyes at the 'good boy' schtick, but he didn't bother.

He wanted to be good, he wanted to be good for you and you only. The better he acted, the closer he got to a reduced sentence, the closer he got to you.

"Yeah," he says breathlessly. "I'll be good, so fuckin' good love."

You believed him wholeheartedly. He was trying so hard to better himself, having put his self destructive tendencies behind him.

It was easier now, not being in that prison, away from his noxious family.

You both fell into a comforting silence once more, not heavy, not suffocating, but warm and inviting.

The buzzer had gone off, alerting you like clockwork that you had five minutes left, and you sighed, already counting down the days in your head until you could see him again.

"We're gonna see each other again," his smile was infectious, boyish and bright. "M'gonna hold you again, like proper hold you, none of this glass bullshit."

"I can't believe it either," his excitement was palpable at your words, looking proper chuffed as Eric begins to bounce his legs, ignoring the looks from those nearby. "I can’t believe how long it’s been too, way too long."

The final call buzzes, sharp and loud, causing you both to flinch out of your little bubble of bliss. He doesn't speak right away, his eyes just holding yours, still in disbelief that in just a few weeks, he'll have you in his arms again.

The receiver is still glued to his ear, but his words are caught behind his teeth, afraid he'll stutter and say something inappropriate.

Sensing his hesitation, you smile reassuringly. "I've already started packing your next gift box, any requests?"

He chuckles, knowing you weren't lying. "Pack of boxers, get Ash to take some more pics and," he draws it out as he pretends to list off of his free hand. "Some johnny's, might save my pants."

You snorted at his request, knowing his request for condoms was far from a joke. Regardless, you nod along. "Can do, what size again? Small?"

He laughs again, tutting at you with a throw of his middle finger. "My poor lady, already forgotten my dick yeah? Shame that, send that polaroid camera in too then, I'll remind ya."

A guard clears his throat from behind you, and a light by the phones flash. You both quickly throw in another 'I love you', just in time for the receivers both to shut off, much to your disappointment.

You mouth a 'Be good Love.'

Just like you always did, and he gives you a mock salute, pursing his lips in a stupid way of blowing a kiss.

You return the gesture, standing and throwing your bag over your shoulder as you blow him another kiss.

Like always, he watches you leave, throwing you a wave as you turn around, giving him a meek one as the guard ushers you out roughly, much to his dismay.

Two weeks was so close and somehow so far, and Eric didn't know how he was gonna wait.

Patience was never his virtue, but for you, he would try.

He would try anything and everything.

Until then, he would let your pictures keep him going, knowing that very soon he'd be seeing and feeling the real thing once more.

He'd be feeling you again.

And he was gonna make sure you'd remember the feel of him forever.

#Eric love #Eric love x reader #eric reader smut #starred up x reader #starred up fanfiction #Eric love fanfiction #dxmurewrites

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mrsshabana · 2 days ago

Note

love your fics nice to see that our sweet boi Gyutaro gets some love 😭😭😭 you should do one where he barely gets out of the Tengen fights super duper injured from the sun flames and he needs human flesh. Daki is freaking out about and they teleport home where you live with them. You see how terribly injured he is and you offer him your shoulder to bite on. Out of instinct he launches at you and bites you (Daki screaming in the background for him to stop) Mouth still on your shoulder you tell him how much you love him and despite him being a demon you’ll always love him. He calms down a bit, he lets go and says that he’s alright and doesn’t need it anymore. He hugs you afterwards. Yes I took some inspo from Tokyo Ghoul 😭😭😭

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 ꒦‧₊ ꒷

꒷꒦ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, violence, gore, fluff ꒷꒦ Note Sorry, I've been away for a while and didn't get to this until now! I've been suuuper busy lately, and I wanted to write something quick while I have time today. So here you go, and I hope you enjoy this short blurb (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

You didn't know what was going on. The last thing you remembered was Gyutaro and Daki telling you to stay put and not come out no matter what. Daki was clearly a bit frazzled, but Gyutaro's expression was unreadable.

You heeded their request without making a fuss. Staying in your small home, tucked away in the outskirts of the entertainment district.

Ever since you met Gyutaro, you knew this wouldn't be a normal relationship. Being an upper moon came with many responsibilities and a lot of danger. But even so, nothing had prepared you for the state Gyutaro would be in when he returned.

He wasn't ok.

Limping through the front door with Daki by his side, there are various deep wounds on Gyutaro's body.

A deep slash on the side of his neck where that damned hashira tried to behead him, that's the worst one. There are other cuts and bruises on his body, accompanied by a few broken bones.

The glow in his eyes is dull as he slowly lifts his head to look up at you.

"What the hell happened?" you choke on your tears as you run to his side.

"There was a hashira," Daki says, her voice cracking as he helps her brother stand, "And some stupid brats... they were a lot stronger than we expected."

"Why isn't he healing?!" you begin to panic as you hold your hands on his neck, trying to stop the blood from gushing out, but it's not working.

"I-I don't know!" Daki sobs, "This kid, he was really strong! Brother fought so hard. I-I tried to help."

"He... he needs blood," you whimper as you begin to slide your sleeve off your shoulder.

"No! Y-You can't!" she tries to reason with you, "He could kill you, Y/N!"

You don't acknowledge her words. Instead, you smile softly and gently tilt Gyutaro's chin to look up at you.

"Gyutaro... honey... you should eat," you look into his dim eyes and stroke his cheek, "You'll feel better if you do."

There's no thought behind his eyes. Just pure raw instinct as he opens his mouth and savagely lunges at you. Sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder.

You don't even yell out in pain. Because the pain of seeing him on the verge of death is so much worse than the pain of him ripping into you.

Daki screams, "Brother, no! Please stop!"

But he doesn't listen. His body moves on its own as it prioritizes his survival.

Utterly helpless, you lie beneath him and cradle the back of his head. Tendly holding him as he ravages you.

"I love you so much, Gyutaro... I wouldn't change a thing about you. Not even the fact that you're a demon... haha it's funny," you chuckle softly as you lose more blood, "Even now, I'm not afraid of you. I never have been... You'll always be my Gyu, even if you eat me alive."

It felt like an eternity, but in reality he wasn't latched onto you for very long. His wounds heal quickly and he regains awareness of the situation.

Immediately, he's wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight.

"Please..." you whimper, "Take as much as you need, Gyu."

"No," he says quickly, "I'm alright. I've had enough... you've given me more than enough, Y/N."

He feels like he's on the verge of tears as he pulls away to look into your eyes. You're happy to see that they are no longer dim and are glowing brightly as they usually do.

"Thank you. I never thought a human could save my life... but you did." He says as he quickly rips the cloths from his arms and wraps them around your wound.

He embraces you once again and whispers as his voice breaks with emotion, "I love you so much..."

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyuutarou #gyuutarou x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 ʚ♡ɞ

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ferrarifinnick · 3 days ago

Text

CAN YOU HEAR ME? | SEONG GIHUN (PLAYER 456)

summary: the rebellion has failed, and gihun is handcuffed to the bed and withering away. you hatch a plan to help bring him back.

pairing: gihun x f!reader (features hyunju, junhee, guemja, youngsik) warnings: grief, starvation, extreme depression, mental deterioration, traumatised!gihun (nothing new), mentioned but not explored canon violence, mentions of death, loss of will to live, choking, starvation, bad health practices. wc: 4.4k

note: this might be my longest fic so far. also i'm not over losing gihun. coping with the trauma of his loss very poorly, self-serving fic to comfort our poor, sweet gihun. enjoy <3

all he does is sit there.

legs sprawled over the floor. head hung. one arm dangling heavily from the handcuff locking it to the bunk above his head.

it's almost like he doesn't even know he's bound there. the longer you watch him stare off into space, the more convinced you are that might just be the case. too far away to even know where his body is. to even realise he's stuck. maybe he's just too far away to care.

that must be it.

if you had the key to his handcuffs, walked over and freed him, you aren't convinced he'd even register it. not even if you opened every door out of this place and told him he's free to run away and never come back. and even if he did, you don't believe he'd care.

he wouldn't even lift his head. too heavy, too empty.

too far gone.

the longer he sits there, the longer you watch him wasting away, the tighter the knot of concern gets in your stomach.

it's true, the rebellion failed. but he lead it, fought for it, was willing to sacrifice himself for it. you saw that, you know it, just like everyone else should. he risked everything in the name of securing a way out for everybody, to save every life left, including yours. and it all went up in flames.

but the one who really got burned is him.

it was optimistic, thinking he could fight his way out of this place. it's cost him jung-bae, young-il, the others. but what worries you most is that it has cost him his will to live. you can see it in the defeated curve of his posture. in the hollowness in his eyes, fixed somewhere too far away to be seeing anything in this world anymore. but it's the hollowing of his cheeks that worries you more.

you can't seem to take your eyes off them from where you sit with hyunju and the others.

nobody's talking much. guem-ja tries, but nothing she says seems to stick. junhee and hyunju try not to leave her talking into the void, but young-sik doesn't even bother to hide his absence. he's too busy glaring into the dark corner where daeho's curled up. whenever he does find his voice, he always ends up circling back to something about cowardice.

but you? your only focus is gihun.

it's been two days since he's eaten. you know it's true because yesterday he offered his meal to junhee under the guise of making sure she and the baby didn't go hungry, and the rest of what was left on his tray was picked clean by daeho. today's lunch has yet to be served, almost feels like it's not coming at all, and the thought only twists your gut with more dread.

the meal gihun did eat two days ago was only meagre, too. half a stale bread roll that you insisted he split with you, after he'd handed over his tray to daeho without even touching the food. by the time you managed to coax the tray back from daeho, almost everything was gone.

you can't even think about the last time he drank water.

it makes your stomach flip. threatens your ability to keep down your last meal, however meagre. and every bite is too precious to lose to this place, which is how you know gihun is in serious trouble.

even if you could remove his cuffs, if he managed to find the will to live again, he'll be too weak to even climb into his bunk for lights out tonight. never mind competing in the next game, he'll be too weak to even crawl to get there. the thought threatens your foods position in your stomach again. best not to think about it.

but you can't help it!

you're on your feet, forced to by the cold wave of worry that fills your senses.

hyunju glances up at you. "everything alright?" she asks, catching the corner of the blanket you're sharing as it falls from your lap.

guem-ja's equally as concerned. "where are you going?" she asks but you don't answer. it's made clear when you head straight to the one bunk with the silver cuff attached to it.

"it's pointless!" young-sik calls after you, but it only fuels the fire igniting in your body.

maybe it's impulsive, what you're doing. maybe it's reckless, too. after all, you don't know gihun very well. not well enough to know how to handle him in this state, after what he's been through. part of you starts to feel doubt the closer you get. that maybe leaving him alone is better than provoking him. that maybe you aren't equipped to handle this.

the thought of turning around grows more appealing the closer you get to his bunk. you consider just walking past him, like you were really only heading for the bathroom. not him. but as you close in, you see what you're thinking of running away from.

you see him. properly, not from far away.

he's sprawled out. deathly still and so quiet you aren't even sure he's breathing.

he resembles an animal. not a rabid dog, foaming at the mouth and ready to bark and bite. not a little fawn or kitten that's strayed too from from its mother, helpless and afraid. it's worse than that. it's like one that's too wounded to care about the ants and the flies crawling over its bleeding body. ready to be eaten. put out of its misery.

it nearly stops you in your tracks, but it only strengthens your resolve.

you're slow when you move in. unrushed. not afraid, but not confrontational in your movements, either.

your company isn't acknowledged when you sink onto the floor across from gihun. you suspect it's not even noticed. you choose not to sit directly in the way of his otherworldly stare, just as close to it as you can get without blocking it.

the silence isn't charged. it's heavy, sure, but not because of you. it's loss, grief. guilt.

the more you stare, the more you know. it's not something conversation can fix.

any intentions to talk fall out the window. apologising to him about the rebellion falling through, like it's your fault, or anybody's at all? gone. to apologise for the loss of jung-bae, or young-il, or any of the others brave enough to have followed them into the fight? forgotten. lost somewhere between hyunju's bunk and gihun's.

there's something about the silence between you. familiar, almost safe. it's something you've gotten used to since meeting gi-hun what feels like forever ago, but really must be only a few days. he never spoke all that much. the times he did, it was always strategy, advice. he always let you talk, though, and you know he always listened, even if he didn't say much of anything back. part of you wonders about the things he enjoys talking about outside the games. if he likes jokes, if he's more of a story person.

it takes a moment to realising you're frowning at him. not that it matters. if you reached across and slapped him, you doubt he'd feel it. doubt it would even knock his gaze away from where it boars into another universe.

there's no communicating to be done from this far. after all, how do two people talk from different planets? different realms?

the tightness is your chest is slow to form, but sharp, when the thought sinks in that he might forever be unreachable. too hurt, too traumatised. too far gone. it nearly makes you wince. but you look from his far away eyes to his hollow cheeks, and the determination floods back in. bringing him back from his grief is one thing, but it's harder to do if he starves to death first.

you won't allow it. not when he was willing to lay down his life for every other player here. not when he was willing to do it for you.

the less than half empty bottle of water in your hands is your starting point. you saved it after yesterday's lunch, figured it was worth rationing. you brought it with you for gihun, but you don't give it to him. you aren't foolish enough to think he'll just take it from you if you asked, and you aren't cruel enough to force his mouth open and make him drink it. instead, you untwist the cap, take a sip for yourself, and set it between you. open, just there, like a small invitation.

he doesn't look down at it. you don't expect him to. the most you get from him is a blink, and you don't take that as a sign of acknowledgment.

your sigh is gentle and casual when you pull out a crunchy clear packet. it holds another bread roll from yesterday's lunch, something else you chose to save, this time for when your stomach aches too much from hunger to sleep. the longer you stay in the games, the harder it's been getting to sleep. but tonight you'll be well prepared for bed, because you open the packet and take out your bread. only the packet isn't intact, it's split.

the second your fingers brush the bread, you feel it. stale. not that it wasn't served stale yesterday, but not it's solid. if you threw it at the wall, it would dent it. the thought crosses your mind to save it to throw at another player to defend yourself if it comes to it, but then again you haven't stained your hands with blood and don't intend on it.

you lay the wrapped on the ground. despite your doubts, you try to tear the bread into two parts, but it's too stale for that anymore. you settle on snapping it in half. you keep one, but lay the other on top of the wrapped like a makeshift plate. it's not much, but it's something. gihun's half.

it stays there while you take the first bite of yours. the crunch is loud, nearly rips through the dormitory, but you get a chunk of it free. your jaw's already straining when you start chewing it into something you can swallow, and you start to wonder if you've mistaken the bread roll for a rock. you've got the equivalent of a pebble in your mouth, but it's stubborn and isn't making it easy for you.

gihun hasn't flinched, even as you take another bite.

this one's bigger, and every shift of you jaw only draws the violent crunching out. you notice a few heads turning at the sound. your group is watching from the bunks you left them at. as you suspected, nobody's talking, but there is a conversation being exchanged through concerned glances.

hyunju's nearly quick enough to hide her wincing with a tight smile, and junhee's busy pretending the zip to her jacket needs attention. young-sik is polite enough to avert his gaze, too, but guem-ja can't hide the look of concern. for your teeth, no doubt.

they've been watching the whole exchange—or lack thereof—you're sure, but it's alright if they do. they're worried about gihun, too.

there's no need to send out a reassuring smile. you might have grinded your teeth down to your gums with the stale bread, anyway. but it's when you turn back to gihun that you pause. he isn't looking over your shoulder.

he's staring at the bread roll on the floor. his bread roll.

the chewing is paused. but all too quickly you pull your jaw back up to work on the bread. to keep chewing. as if this is somehow the key to getting through to him.

by the time you're halfway through this bite, your jaw is burning from strain. when you swallow it down, your mouth is nearly as dry as the stale air in the dormitory, and if you tried talking, you doubt any words could form from the scratch in your throat. you lower the bread roll onto your lap, and close some of the distance between your body and gihun's as you reach for the water bottle.

you take a swig, let the water wash down the bits of bread sticking to your throat. and then you take another, a bigger one this time. you let it sit in your cheeks to re-soak the dryness left behind by the bread, and you're sure you resemble a hamster stowing little pieces of food away in its cheeks. it isn't pretty, the way you swish the water from one cheeks to the other as your tongue works to dislodge the worse of the bread from between your teeth. it's less pretty when you swallow the mouthful down, taking those little pieces of food with it.

you clear your throat, pick at your teeth with your tongue, not being mindful that gihun is right in front of you. you glance to him, quickly satisfied that he's too far away to be aware of you right now. but you pause. you remember you have an audience watching across the room.

it's sheepish, the look on your face when you turn to your group again. they all struggle to hide the wince in their smaller attempts at smiles, now. it's not hard to tell that they're worrying about it being enough to make gihun snap. maybe they think it's enough to have him reach across and choke me into silence with his free hand. but you know better.

you turn right back to your food, trying not to think back to the way young-il always narrowed his eyes whenever daeho smacked his lips at previous lunches. there's a small flicker of relief that he isn't here to witness you now, but it's quickly replaced with guilt. what an awful thought. with gihun sitting across from you, suffering with that loss, no less.

if your group thinks sloshing your hamster cheeks around is too much, you dread to think about them witnessing daeho charging up a cough to dislodge food stuck in his throat after eating his meals too quickly. but you try not to find amusement in it. not when he's hiding away in a dark corner of the dorm. he's not himself either, but he's handling it better than gihun. he doesn't need your intervention yet.

you let out a light-hearted scoff, thinking about other the times daeho had everyone lurching back with a head bobbing sneeze in the middle of meal times, too close to spraying over someone's lunch tray. you pretend gihun's in on the conversation, like he'll understand what you're thinking. they think that's bad, just wait until you see daeho! but when you lift your head to smile at him like it's him who made the joke, you're surprised to find him staring right back at you.

the smile drops. every muscle in your body tenses on instinct. now you're deadly still, not just him.

for a moment, you worry the sunken face and stormy eyes are his version of judgement, too. like you've gotten too comfortable. disturbed his silent spiral into despair. but you don't see anger. not at you, at least. maybe it is judgement, but he isn't capable of that. not in his position, anyway. cuffed to a bunk, starving half to death. haunted by the voices in his head convincing him that jung-bae and young-il's blood are stains on his hands. in his mind, he's no better than a murderer.

but the longer you hold his gaze, the more you search his eyes, trying to understand how you managed to do it. how you have reeled him back from another planet. back into the same room.

he doesn't look away. maybe he can't. all you know is you can't, either.

there are no words that come to mind. nothing to express how deeply your sorrow runs for him, your condolences for his friends. nothing but a quickly mumbled, "sorry... was i chewing too loud?"

it's slow, the confusion that forms in the knitting of his brows, in the blinking of his eyes. he stares like you aren't speaking the same language.

something possesses you to add "i wouldn't eat that," as you nod down to his half of the bread on the floor. "unless you're looking to shave a couple of inches off your teeth. then maybe."

the words are out before your mind can catch up, and when it does, you're left almost as baffled as he is. wasn't the whole point of coming over to encourage him to eat? to drink something? and now you've only gone and told him actually, why don't you push yourself closer to starvation?

it's not worth backtracking. you've already said too much. blown any chance at getting him to take care of himself. walking away would be better than this. leaping off the tallest bunk in the dorm probably even better. both options make more sense than the decision you make to take another bite.

it's not even three seconds until the stale chunk of bread explodes into a cloud of dust between your teeth, and suddenly you're choking on particles as they fly down your throat.

if the water sloshing around in your cheeks before wasn't pretty, it's best not to think how much worse it is when you burst out with an eye-watering, throat-burning cough. but it doesn't end there. you're hacking, lurching forward, clutching at your neck. there's a startling thought that this might be how you get eliminated from the games. choking to death on fragments of stale bread.

it's only when you bend over onto your hands and knees, heaving the crumbs from your throat with your back arching, coughs turning thick and wet, where you realise you must resemble a cat coughing up a hairball. that's when you wish elimination would put you out of your misery.

just when it's looking bleak, you're stuck with heavy force on your back. it's sharp, almost makes you cry out, and then it's right back to smacking you once again. maybe it's a punishment. it feels fair, for disturbing the dorm, causing such a scene. for having the audacity to die from a bread roll when others have been bludgeoned or shot dead. hyunju wouldn't smack your back, she's responsible enough to do the heimlich manoeuvre for choking. maybe that tweaker—nam-su?—from the o's side of the room has finally had it with you.

but you realise it's neither of those when you hear a gravelly voice follow after another strike to your back.

"come on," it says. flat, empty, but pinched with concern.

it takes a few more slaps to the back to dislodge the dust in your throat, and it's only then do you connect the voice to the face.

gihun.

when you look up to him, panting and still hunched over, he's staring right back. his hand is warm on your back, firm with concern that's rapidly diminishing as the grief creeps back in. his other arm is stretched sharply behind him, hand still caught by the handcuff. he's slow to sink back onto his knees, just like you are to push yourself off the floor.

you wipe the back of your hand across your mouth, wiping away a trace of saliva. catching your breath. holding his gaze like if you don't, he'll slip away again.

your lips part. "thanks," you say breathlessly.

he doesn't answer. just lowers his head, just barely. like it hurts to be thanked. but when he looks down, he sees the water bottle again. wordlessly he hands to to you.

you don't hesitate to take it from him, grateful and gentle. you drink until your throat burns a little less, and when you're done, you're careful with your tone when you add, "that was close," like a breathless joke.

his head lifts just slightly at that, and it's like he's fighting a war in his mind when you catch a glimpse of his face. his cheeks are tinted with just the softest shade of red, from sitting up so quickly, you assume. even that must take the energy from him. but you're careful to keep the sympathy far from your expression.

he closes his eyes at the next cough that slips from your lips. it's like it takes everything in him to lift his head, brows pinched with concern, to ask "are you alright?"

and that's when you see it. concern.

your voice doesn't scratch anymore, but you let out a few coughs into your hand anyway, and nod in answer to his question. his eyes track every movement you make as you take another sip from the bottle.

it might not be the full him, but it's a crack. a small one, but still a crack in the armour guarding his fragile state of mind. enough to inspire hope.

when you're finished with the water, you hand the bottle back to him without thinking. he takes it, only he doesn't set it down. slowly, he lifts it to his lips and drinks from it.

it's not much. half a sip at best. but it feels like you have just been told you can leave the dormitory with all the money in the golden pig above your heads.

he hands the bottle back, and something happens. something unspoken. you sip, then he does, and back to you, until you watch him finish off the bottle. you don't fuss, don't stare. you just accept the feeling of relief that washes over your shoulders like waves over sand.

he doesn't reach for the bread. your advice to skip it isn't regretted, because it might've convinced him out of the next lunch the guards bring, whenever that may be. besides, it's not like there's any water left to wash it down, anyway.

him drinking some of the water is enough for you.

he struggles to meet your gaze after that, but you don't mind. the both of you end up sat beside each other, backs against the side of the bunk he's chained to, settled into another silence. but this time it feels just that little bit lighter. like it did over the last few days since you met him.

time is too hard to track in the windowless dormitory at the best of times, but enough of it passes for you to find the right moment to express yourself this time.

it comes out slow. not hesitant, but cautious. "we can't know what the future brings," you preface. "we can plan, we can prepare, but when the time comes, we are at the mercy of fate more than anything else."

he doesn't respond. maybe he doesn't even want to hear it. maybe he's gone back to the other planet that doesn't have you bothering him on it. but you reel him in one last time with a hand to his knee to coax him into listening to what he needs to hear.

"fate can be cruel, sometimes," you say, and your voice drops to something softer. "but crueller is to punish yourself for trying your best."

he doesn't need to hear more. nor do you feel the urge to subject him to it. and he might not believe his hands are clean, or that he deserves to live. but he has to know that he is not blamed, no matter what that voice in his head has to say about it.

you don't linger. you take the empty water bottle, carefully repackage the bread to avoid spilling crumbs, and make your way back to the others.

hyunju makes space for you on her bunk, but there still isn't much to say. the air is heavy with grief that extends to more corners of the room than just gihun's, and it's clear your words weren't exclusive to or only heard by gihun, either. you can see it in the sombre smile hyunju tries to hide as she drapes the corner of her blanket over your legs again, and you know she's thinking of young-mi. how she feels guilt over her death, too.

but guem-ja breaks the silence. "i didn't think mr. seong would ever stop staring off into space," she sighs regretfully.

young-sik hums in agreement.

junhee meets your gaze, rubbing soothing circles over her baby bump when she asks, "is your throat okay?"

young-sik snickers before you can answer. guem-ja is quick to jab her elbow disapprovingly into his ribs, spouting out words of disapproval, but it's waved away by her son. he turns to you more seriously, leaning in closer as if it's a secret. "how did you know that would work?" he asks. "nearly choking to death on the bread?"

guem-ja shakes her head at him, but you don't miss the curious flick of her eyes when she glances to you, as if she's wondering the same.

you see they're all tuned in, waiting to hear how you pulled it off. you smile softly but don't answer for a moment, your gaze drifting back to gihun. you only look to him for a second, before turning back to say "he's kind," you say simply.

yougn-sik frowns. "that's it?" he asks.

you glance to hyunju who's just figured it out, her smile slow to form but it carrying a little less grief than before. you stay in the moment with her for a beat, before turning back to young-sik.

guem-ja beats you to it. "you knew he'd never let you choke," she says in amazement.

it draws your smile wider. you nod, confirming that was your plan. there's conversation now, and everyone is involved. for once, young-sik ignores daeho's dark corner and beams about how genius it was, while junhee remarks her surprise that gihun actually drank the water. as they chatter on, you drift away, attention shifting to gihun again.

he's still sitting in the same spot you left him, one hand raised by the handcuff. he doesn't look at you, or anyone for that matter.

but you see it.

the look in his eye. the glassiness coating them. the tension in his brows. signs of life.

he hasn't wandered back to the other planet. he hasn't drifted away. he isn't gone. he's there.

and you wonder if he's thinking over your words. if he's allowing himself to consider the possibility that maybe he isn't to blame. maybe it wasn't him that walked his friends into their graves. maybe fate did have a hand in the failure of the rebellion.

that maybe, just maybe, it isn't his fault.

i will never get over you, seong gihun. like, comment, reblog. love <3

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theothernads · 1 day ago

Text

⊹ ࣪. ❛❛ 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟕 ❞ ❀

۶ৎ── [─ 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 2]

ֶָ֢⊹𐙚 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: In a world where vampires exist, the city of Seoul is not safe. With the most notorious in the Facility 007, everyone thought that the city would be kept at bay with murders being stopped and for terror to stop haunting everyone in the night. That's what you thought when they were captured and stopped the vampirism from spreading by biting normal humans. However, you made a mistake in assuming that these seven would give up, and you underestimated their desire for power and control when you were invited for an internship to said Facility 007. It should have been easy enough. But one myth and night changed everything, and now, you have to figure out how to play your cards right if you want to take them down.

ֶ⟡ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: vampire!Enha!xf!reader ❀

۶ৎ─── 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: biting, violence against ALL characters, chainsaw, GORE, BLOOD (more than last time), death, Enha are REALLY mean, handcuffs, vampires (duh), needles, and a LOT of violence, some noncon neck kisses and touches (nothing more than that). I DO NOT CONDONE these behaviours; this is all for entertainment purposes and in NO way does this reflect on the real Enhypen members! You don't like? scroll onto my Jungwon smau or summer headcannons!!

╰┈➤ don't proceed if you don't like that.

──⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 20k ꒰ ꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘:

─── ִֶָ࣪☾. [𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒]: okay, so i have returned with part 2. And, I am so sorry that this took so long but I was trying to make the plot coherent with Y/n and the other characters, and also trying to make the writing a little more smoother. I mean, I am 90% happy with the outcome but I kept proof-reading it and idk, I just know that a lot of people have been waiting. I need to stop beating around the bush lmao!! Please tell me if you liked it or not. I love seeing your replies and asks. It is so fun!!

「」 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 1 ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

─────────────────────────────────

FACILITY 007.

The one thing that caged the seven vampires now caged you within. The grey walls stayed so still you thought they were staring right back at you; the silence hummed over your heartbeat, persistent and repetitive, reminding you of your situation; and the leather cuffs stuck to your wrists with an unmoving strength.

You hugged yourself, knees drawn to your chest and back against the wall as you breathed into your trousers.

Counting was the only thing you could do without having all your panic spike up again. It sounded like insanity in this room and you didn't speak a word in two, whole days. Maybe it was your defiance. Or it was the only thread you had in control over your actions, thoughts, and words.

Those vampires stripped away your mother, your skin, and now the Facility. You don't know the fate of your friends or the other scientists. You only know yours.

And that was aiding them in the path of making a corrupt venom for them to use and throw like water. As if it didn't possess the ability to reorganise the wires in the brain so that their rationality flew right out the mental window. Right and wrong would become a little more similar, no longer linear.

In fact, you felt like all your sanity defenestrated right out of your mental scape right this moment. Instead of crying, you picked yourself up shakily, hunger clutching at your stomach, gnawing at your sides, and you stumbled into the bathroom.

The room was practically camouflaged with the same grey paint, a toilet seat, a shower head that hung high on the wall, and a sink that had a sensor when hands were near. The chain around your ankle made a metallic click, the door not fully closing because of it. That never crossed your mind. The privacy that never existed in the prison cell and the way it put a gate to creativity. It was just so… dead.

Closing the door as much as you could, you splashed some water on your face, rubbing it into your eyes as if it would help you think better from the last two days.

There was no mirror so God knew if you looked like the perfect display of sleep deprivation and despair sunken into your cheeks. Or maybe mourning.

For the past two nights, you gave into sleep, not because of the desire to dream, but because exhaustion screwed into the sides of your temples and forced your head to fall. Even that wasn't enjoyable because your mother's bloodied figure appeared like a ghost that you couldn't hide from. And it was the same moment—over and over again. You turn, the chainsaw would slice through her side, blood broke through the skin and fabric, and then her lips parted as if to say something. She fell. You wake up and then, you stay up for the rest of the night, torturing yourself with your own thoughts.

You were honestly your own enemy.

Swallowing the bile, one of your bound hands managed to slip into the pocket of your pants to feel the small cylinder within. A small cylinder that not only held the last vial of antivenom, but also the last shred of hope. This little thing came into memory when you slept awkwardly on your side to find it poking into your thigh. But God, did you care?

Absolutely not. Because instead of a small vial, you saw remnants of faith, escape.

Tentative, you held it in your palm, the deep blue liquid sloshing around, knowing you held the fate of your own fight in your hands. It's all up to you. Except, this wasn't clearly enough for all the vampires; it would only blind the cell function of one of them, and how much would they need to be killed?

You sighed, leaning back against the sink, thoughts morphing into one, giant hurricane of possible notions to set up the rough planning of your escape. The vampires were physically stronger on all levels, outmatched you by a thousand. You were practically made of hay compared to them. If strength wasn't the weapon to choose, you simply had your mind to use against them.

Looking down at the vial now, you don't know how much of this could suppress their abilities, their lust for blood and violence, but you had to try. The only thing you can do is to replicate it, but you could only do so with your mother's notes, which were probably locked away in the safety of her lab cabinets. The same lab where the light drifted from her eyes.

Biting your lip hard, you blinked the tears away furiously, shoving the vial back into your pocket. Enough of that. No tears. You couldn't show that type of weakness when your vow of silence was still alive.

Once you breathed, counted to ten, you opened the door of the bathroom only to jump when you saw Jungwon and Sunghoon, hands in their pockets, gazing at you like they had been standing and waiting there for centuries.

The dread was hard to miss as it sunk into your heart, swallowing it whole, forcing the beats of your heart to shake. Had they seen the vial? Surely not. They haven't killed you yet.

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow.

“Jumpy.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out the sandwich squished and wrapped in clingfilm, soggy. You swallowed hard and limped to the stupid, cold bench and sat.

Jungwon blinked and Sunghoon chucked the snack on the surface next to you like you were a fish to take bait.

“You need the energy, so eat,” Jungwon said, tone heavy and final with a demand that you hated to hear. You glanced. The sandwich looked sad and depressed. Deflated, even. You took it with bound hands and began to unwrap it.

“Still silent,” Sunghoon mumbled to Jungwon. He hummed.

“Won't do if we need to ask her about any progress,” Jungwon purred with danger rippling in his tone. You stiffened, hands halting midway but Jungwon stepped forward, clutching the sandwich from you in a blink. He began to unwrap it, but it felt like he was peeling away the layers that hid a danger underneath. You stared shakily, fists clenched as he held the snack like an ultimatum.

“Speak.”

You didn't. He was treating you like a rat, all chained up in the stupid leather and metal, staring like you were on display for disobedience. You didn't want to act like one, to be zapped and then conditioned.

Jungwon tilted his head, a spark of annoyance breaking through his patience, but he placed the sandwich back down, and stepped back. “Suit yourself. We'll come get you later as well to make the venom.”

‘As well’? When they both turned, your head snapped up.

“What… where are Taehyun and Soobin…? What did you do with my mother?” You asked hoarsely, voice chapped like it had been dragged through a desert. They both halted, and only Jungwon turned with a ghost of a smirk, not exactly looking at you.

“Your friends… are fine.” He shrugged a little. You dared to let relief breathe over your chest like a breeze. But then, he said, “your mother was quite a snack, though. Sunoo said it was similar to yours, but lacked some iron. She should have taken her iron tablets.”

At his unnerving comment, anger tore through your body like an earthquake stunned your organs, and you lunged at Jungwon only for the ankle chain to bite into your skin and warn you to still. But at that point, you didn't care. You just wanted to eradicate the smug smirk off his stupid face. How dare they?

He didn't look bothered because he slowly turned with all the time in the world, and smiled coldly. Your fists uselessly aimed at him but missed by a few taunting inches. Jungwon watched the display of futility and Sunghoon turned and crossed his arms, watching the anger twist your face and your lungs until your breaths turned heavy.

“It's only true, Intern Song,” Jungwon raised an eyebrow of mirth.

“You sick fuck—”

“Careful with your words,” he said, cutting your vulgar words short, the danger returning like a stone and making you stop. Oh right. Any more disrespect and he would let the others drain you of your life.

You forced your breaths to slow and let your shoulders slump as if defeat snaked into your joints and collapsed whatever fight you had. Sunghoon smiled to himself and Jungwon hummed, satisfied.

“There. Good girl. Now, sit and eat your sandwich. Remember the deal you made,” he said with a grin, mockery lighting his eyes on purpose. Even when you didn't move, they both did and closed the sliding door, sealing you in.

The lock may have kept you trapped in but that didn't stop the growing determination that flickered hungrily in your chest.

You vowed to yourself you would stop them one way or another.

۶ৎ───────────────

The sirens outside blared loudly on the premises. It sounded like it was down below. Maybe three—no, four police cars had pulled up, probably to break a way in.

You weren't hopeful. Not when Riki and Heeseung came to collect you later, undoing the chain at your ankle, and holding you by your arms, leading you out.

It didn't bother them, which deeply bothered you.

When another round of sirens came and then silenced, Riki scoffed as he and Heeseung dragged you along the ground floor, the dim hallways flickering with a dying light.

“You would think they give up,” Riki mumbled, annoyed. Heeseung's frown remained like a heavy thread sewn into his lips.

“That's the thing about humans. They're all… a little stupid,” he replied, almost giving you the side-eye, which you took an internal offense at. They turned you to the familiar corridor of the second floor, the one leading to the East Wing through a glass tunnel displaying the night sky that bled into the horizon.

Riki snorted. “Yeah, well, I don't doubt that for a second.”

So police officers had already tried gaining authority over the place, but somehow, these vampires tackled every single one, as if they had predicted the move of a chess piece from a long way away. Something curled in your chest, tightening around your nerves in thick worry.

“They should send the real strong ones. You know, trained and stuff,” Riki murmured.

“Police officers are trained. Besides, they'll be good subjects for the venom.” Heeseung didn't say anything more, steering your silent self forward.

Of course. They needed more patients, more test trials to torture with experiments and danger. As if playing with lives would be easy and attached with no consequences. Then again, you don't expect these vampires to even have a blueprint of morality sketched into them, let alone care about the horrific outcome.

When approaching the set of double doors, it burst open before Heeseung could touch it, and a man fell through, heaving and with bloodshot eyes.

You flinched as he crawled towards you like craving something resembling humanity. He wore a uniform, or a weak excuse of it. The bulletproof vest hung off one side, hair frantic and coursing in different directions, and he had small cuts pricking his cheek.

“H-help me—”

His words were cut when Sunoo and Jay came through, crimson eyes bleeding into something darker, more nefarious, and with their weapons silently accompanying them in the firm grip of their sinful hands.

The man yelled but Sunoo clawed him in the cheek, skin breaking in three, sleek lines until blood ran down his face, eyes glassy, and his limbs trembling. You felt sick.

Jay rolled his eyes. “Bad choice.”

“Horrible, even,” Sunoo muttered, as if disgusted.

“We're not supposed to kill them, remember?” Riki said to the two boys before them, but Jay clicked his tongue, eyes still on the quivering man.

“We weren't before he tried to shoot at Jungwon.”

And at that moment, the mechanical roar shuddered from behind the double doors, shaking the ground like a promise of death.

The sound instantly made you cringe, a lump anchoring in your throat and to your stomach, dragging the metal of sickness in your gut. Lo behold, Jungwon came through with manic eyes on the man, his chainsaw blundering your ears until you couldn't hear anything but him and his violence.

The man yelled, crawling back and desperately heading to you, knowing your eyes were the only human ones right now. A shaky breath left you as Jungwon narrowed his gaze, blonde hair messy, and lifted the roaring weapon to a peak in the air.

Then, he brought it down on the man's back, blood staining his uniform and pooling at the white floor as he let out a gurgling scream that weakened your knees into air.

The blood splattered against Jungwon's shirt and face but he wore it like a badge, and didn't stop until the man became a limp body lost to the chainsaw.

The smell was the worst. The metal stung your nose and shoved you into a memory of the exact moment your mother died; icy eyes and the unspoken urge for safety through her bloodied torso. The man's blood became hers, but both were lost to the weapon. To Jungwon.

You didn't even realise you were breathing hard until Jungwon peered up at the way your eyes blinked away tears, focusing on the man. He gave a chilling smile. Sunoo and Jay stepped aside, giving way to Jungwon as he stood before you. Your eyes stayed glued to his torso. You were so afraid that if you even glanced back, all your composure would be cut loose all because of his crimson gaze.

“Is she going to the labs?” Jungwon asked smoothly to Heeseung and Riki, ignoring the tremble in your eyes. They both nodded and Jungwon hummed, satisfied, and leaned down to your lowered gaze. It was as if he was taunting you, ready to push you to your limit but held back.

“Remember the deal…” he forced your gaze to his when he lowered himself. “Any funny business and I would take the greatest pleasure in turning you.”

With no reply, Jungwon stepped back to let Heeseung and Riki lead you past the dead man, and further away, all while your legs crumbled and swayed.

۶ৎ───────────────────

The labs smelled like blood and death. The familiar hallway had scraps of metal littered on the floor, the silence heavy and suffocating. You didn't get to peer into the patient room as you were steered into the familiar labs. The doors were off its hinges.

Heeseung held you by the upper arm, directing you into the chilled lab, the mechanical hums of the lights remaining the same, as if it didn't witness violence and death in the most gruesome way.

When entering the main room, a few faces turned to you, about nine faces to be exact, and the ones you recognised instantly were Taehyun and Soobin. Alive, wide-eyed and with questions bubbling in them. And relief. Once Riki unbound the cuffs, you hurried to Taehyun and Soobin with an urge to hug the shit out of them. But with the two predators behind you, the thought quickly fell away.

“Your neck,” Taehyun said incredulously, staring at the two deep puncture holes in your skin, branding you as a meal. The others looked, some murmured but you just covered it with your palm.

“Don't… don't worry about it,” you whispered, suddenly too self-aware. Why? You don't exactly know, but the mark spoke words you didn't say, dug into your skin and displayed the power the vampires held over you at that moment; it also held the deep shame that it was your fault for not fighting them off or thinking of another way to avoid that hurdle. Unfortunately, you got yourself tangled in it anyway, and you wanted nothing more than to skin off that status branding your skin.

Taehyun simply nodded and let you through before Heeseung cleared his throat. “You make the venom. Nothing else.” He looked at you.

“I know,” you uttered with a sharper edge than you wanted. He looked like he would say something just as biting but held back, only holding you with his own hard stare of disapproval. Then, he went to the adjacent room, talking with Riki.

As soon as they did, the other scientists gathered near you with worry, but they didn't say anything quite yet. For now, those questions could wait in line. You needed to get your plan out. Before you said anything, a man with glasses approached, monolids and wisdom etched into his face.

“I'm Dr. Kim Namjoon. I worked with your mother but we haven't formally met,” he said softly, as if treading lightly around the topic of your dead parent. It stung, but you met his gaze with a nod.

“Song Y/n.” You glanced at the others and got to know Seokjin, Minju, Chaewon, Moka, and Yeonjun. You had probably spotted them before in the cafeteria but never spoke, but introductions weren't the most necessary factor right now. Nor were memories of before. And then, you gathered them at the far corner of the lab, careful not to hover near where your mother had died. Then, you looked at them urgently.

“I have a plan.” You started with a whisper, afraid that any one of those vampires would tune in. They all shifted but remained tentative.

That's when you pulled out the small vial of antivenom, the dark blue liquid like a light in the darkness. Taehyun recognised it, snapping his gaze to you.

“You had one left?” He mumbled in alarm. Nodding to him, you replaced it back in your pocket.

“We can replicate it. I know you haven't tested it on the vampires, but… if it is able to stop healthy cells function, then…”

“Then, the vampires could die with it,” Chaewon replied in tandem. Silence swiftly rolled in and you nodded.

“But we have to be careful.” Your eyes flickered to the shadows moving around in the adjacent room, possibly attempting to dismantle any defiance you had left within.

Moka glanced, eyes folded with fear and memories from the last three days. “How are we going to make the antivenom when we have to do the opposite? They want us to make a venom.”

Chaewon made a disgruntled sound of agreement, as much as it pained her. “Good point. What happens when they try to test the venom and it doesn't turn them?”

“We can always make a fake,” you replied easily, eyes wandering for any internal answers. Again, discomfort loomed over everyone.

“A fake?” Soobin echoed carefully. Namjoon stepped up with Seokjin, both of them exchanging glances.

“We can make a diluted form. Weak but not enough to corrupt them,” Namjoon suggested quietly, but this gave you a new jolt of hope. Like it had soared through your spine, making you straighten.

“You can?”

He nodded with a fraction of joy.

“Then, we need two different teams. One will make a weak version of the venom. The other will—”

“—make an antivenom for those vampires,” Taehyun finished your sentence with the same hope swelling in his tone. If this worked, life would look a lot more than the walls of Facility 007.

“I know my mother's reports are here somewhere, locked. But, we can do it,” you murmured, glancing at the multiple cabinets locked behind you.

“Even if the venom doesn't turn them, it doesn't stop the vampires from doing it themselves,” Soobin clutched himself tighter.

“Which means we have a deadline,” Minju said with a terrified realisation striking her face. Even doubt of your own slithered so subtly past your throat and clutched at your ribs like coiled rubber bands. You took a breath.

“Then we have no time to lose. We make the antivenom. And we escape Facility Seven.”

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

Nine PM hit and where the skies blackened into ultimate darkness, you were being escorted back by Jungwon to the lonely prison room upstairs. But it didn't matter. Those four walls weren't enough to stop the seed of encouragement from growing and breaking out in wild vines and thorns. You were going to get out with everyone and beat these vampires.

For once, your heartbeat was steady with a slight jump, as if you couldn't restrain your own anticipation. Jungwon flickered his gaze to you, jaw tightening.

“You… sound different,” he murmured, somewhat accusing. Realising you weren't even trying to control your internal happiness, you huffed out a breath of annoyance.

“I'm not.” You kept following him as he approached the prison door, sliding it open swiftly. Jungwon's accusation didn't move from his creased brows.

“I'm not stupid so don't treat me as such,” he snapped lowly, shoving you forward until you steadied yourself on the bench with a shaky breath. Turning back, he was already lurking over you like a stormy cloud, eyes red and ready to shred you to pieces with one wrong move.

“I'm being tied up and imprisoned. I don't feel much anymore,” you replied with a deliberate tone of anger. He just stared before picking up the ankle chain and gripping your calf without invitation. Even though there was no point resisting, you yanked your leg back only for him to dig his nails into your trousers, manhandling your foot. You winced, and he snagged the cuff around your ankle, tighter than before that it felt like he screwed it into your skin.

Then, the leather cuffs—he wasn't gentle with that either, tightening them until it morphed into your wrist. Jungwon stood, unimpressed.

“Why am I the only one here? Why can't I be with the others?” You asked, not bothering to stand up. He didn't reply for a few seconds, the harsh twinkle in his eyes never ceasing before tilting his head, his patience thinning.

“Because you keep pushing your limits and isolation should be the answer to such actions,” he muttered with scorn before turning on his heel and walking away.

When he did, your lungs loosened from the metal screws of anxiety, and your thoughts rushed like a marathon. You had no idea if he knew what you were up to, if that small detail of your chirpy heartbeat had already given you away to the enemy itself. It wouldn't be helpful if it did. Everyone here needed that freedom, including you, and you wanted to deliver that. Meaning no more of your hope overreacting and practically putting a sign of I'm–deceiving–you–and–your–brothers over your chest.

You curled your knees to your chest and hoped in silence.

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

The next day, you had kept the vial wrapped away in a secret, and kept your words to a low when discussing the antivenom. The senior researchers started to make the diluted version of the venom, almost a small fraction of what the real one was like.

During your time there, you flipped through your mother's file, the one dotting and drawing her comments on the vicious antivenom, the last one telling how it killed normal cells too. It wasn't just an observation to you, but more of a promise that you held onto. A prophecy you wanted to make true.

Despite all that, the sirens in the distance happened once more, near the East side. Recalling back to Heeseung and Riki's conversation, they obviously were expecting the police officers to attack from below, preparing for it with open arms. And the police forces didn't even know. If only you could tell them that it was their plan dressed in a disguise of a seemingly abandoned building. To communicate with them that going through the ground floor would be signing a predictable death wish.

Communicate. Ground floor. Your phone.

Your back straightened so hard that Sunghoon tilted his head from behind you, near the counter. The gaze struck you, forcing you to feign a headache and go back to scribbling nonsense in the lines. Again, if they even found a speck of your plan, it would be over and you know Jungwon would turn and torture you.

It sent a minor shudder through your heartbeat. Sunghoon stared, then glanced away.

When it was time to return to your prison cell, the distant sounds of guns ricocheted downstairs, yells and screams blending together to make a horrific melody. The tension clustered at your shoulders as Sunghoon moved you along with him. He didn't seem phased, built of nonchalance and control with a tight jaw and eyes looking forward.

The fourth floor was silent as Sunghoon slid the cuff onto your ankle and wrists, the command in them tiring you. Even then, you spoke. “You're not going to kill… all of them, are you?”

His back was turned to you, but you knew he wanted to answer. And he did, steering his gaze over his shoulder with a wall of something hidden and suspicious, like he was cherry-picking some things to reveal and some things to fabricate his sentence with. Then, he said, “no.”

Relieved or anxious, you had no idea.

“We can't. Not all of them anyway. Once you create the venom, we have to actually inject them with it, turn them, and then they can spread it to others, too. Well, assuming you are in the process of making it,” he said, lowering his gaze slightly to pin you into place, like he had silent dominion over you. “And you are, aren't you?”

With a grit jaw and a lie interlaced with it, you nodded once. He narrowed his gaze before straightening up and walking away, locking the room to a bolt.

Maybe they are onto you. Meaning things might have gotten trickier.

The plan was still the same, though. Get the antivenom made, plunge it into those deadly brothers, and stop the vampirism for the bitten ones. Then, escape.

Easy.

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

The next day was the same. Heeseung was in the room, hovering by the counter a few metres away and a sniper built into his gaze. His arms were crossed, his vigilance dressed in a dangerous crimson as he tracked your back, the gauze at your neck where the puncture wounds were from Sunoo's bite.

You were with Taehyun, Namjoon, and Moka, glancing at the steps to make the diluted venom and the antivenom. To fool Heeseung, Namjoon cleared his throat.

“It's coming along. We just need to separate the venom from the plasma. So fractionate them,” he said, letting his index finger draw a useless path of conclusion on the page. You and the others nodded.

“I can do that,” Moka said softly, playing along, knowing there was nothing useful written on the paper.

Namjoon walked away with her whilst you rubbed your temples, your neck pulsing like it demanded attention for healing. Taehyun tilted his head, empathetic.

“Is it hurting?” He murmured softly, fingers hovering over your shoulder until they softly landed there, wishing he could transfer all your pain to him. With a weak, but non-committed smile, you nodded and grabbed a pen.

“I'm okay,” you uttered, glancing over your shoulder to see Heeseung glaring at nothing in particular on the floor.

Perfect. He's distracted. You hunched over the desk, writing something hastily. Taehyun glanced.

‘I think I know a way to escape if we can't get out by the ground floor’ you wrote.

Also grabbing a pen, Taehyun began to return the secret reply. ‘How? Why can't we use the ground floor?? Won't the vampires be dead by the time?’

‘Some are bitten. Probably used as their own personal guards. And have guns. We can't inject them with antivenom. Only the main 7’ you replied with a sigh of contemplation. Taehyung nodded once, slow.

‘How?’

‘I need my phone and we need to speed up the process of the antivenom. I'm going to figure out something’.

After that, you tucked away your anxiety, clutched at all the straws of your courage, and went up to Heeseung. You readied your words and confidence not to crumble before his crimson ones. Instantly, he stiffened and narrowed his gaze.

“I need to go to my mother's office.” You glanced straight at the crimson river of thoughts that were his scrutinising eyes.

“Why?”

“A file. She was the senior staff here so she has most of the information on anything regarding the venom,” you said smoothly, almost proud of yourself for becoming a liar. He didn't move, and then, he grabbed the leather cuffs abandoned at the side.

“You're wearing these.”

Without complaining, you let him cuff you to one, the other hand held in his, and you cautiously walked through the hallways coiled with unspoken tension. Some officers, or previous patients walked past you, but their eyes were a darker shade of black, as if there was a physical black hole sucking up all their senses and leaving behind a hollow shell of themselves. They staggered past, and you focused on the path in front.

Your mother's office wasn't a long way away, and her door was unlocked. The reason why you came here was because you left your bag and phone in here before working that fateful day. And before the vampires and their lethality invaded the place like an earthquake.

Entering her office set off emotions you desperately tried to bury. The mourning, grief, and guilt swarming you like death was personally here to nag you. Her chair had her cardigan cloaked over it, files neatly stacked on the corner of her desk, and shelves adorned with even more colourful binders archiving her wisdom.

It smelt like paper and old coffee, and sandwiches. You released a shaky breath but moved forward. You needed to get out to fully mourn her despite your quivering emotions.

Heeseung didn't let go as you maneuvered behind her desk, his eyes clutching to every movement. You had to be discreet. And you saw the moment as you pretended to stumble forward into the stacks of files. In a glorifying second, it all tumbled to the floor behind the desk and her chair.

Heeseung scoffed at your apparent clumsiness, and allowed you to move the chair and kneel down. Under the desk was your bag, shadowed and untouched. Your phone peeked out the pocket like a puzzle to be collected. One thing you prayed for was that you hoped it wasn't dead. Getting a cord would be a suicide mission.

While pretending to gather and scan the files you sneakily swiped the phone but held it beneath a random file labelled with nonsensical numbers. Confident that Heeseung wouldn't ask what it meant, you stood with a mask of indifference over the glee.

“I got it.” You showed him the file. And thank the universe for making Heeseung despise verbal communication. You let him lead you out, but the tension fell away slightly, making you breathe somewhat lighter.

It was going to plan.

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

You underestimated them. Greatly.

Heeseung took you back to your room, sliding the door into place and allowing you to rush to the bathroom in a cuff and struggle. You held the phone from your pocket and smiled down at it like it bloomed flowers out of air.

This should allow you to call the police and progress the plan. You were so glad, though. Remaining in Facility 007 was starting to induce an annoying itch in the deep crevices of your brain.

But as soon as you began to put in your password, the sliding door slammed open outside making your body jolt in alarm. The previous tension coiled back. They usually left you alone for the night so why and who came back?

Having to forget about the phone, you hid it behind the sink before the bathroom door opened with a snap, and you turned on your heel. Jungwon stood there, grabbing your upper arm with a hostile demand that shut you up, and shoved you out there to Jake, who caught you. You landed with a small ‘oof’.

When you were about to speak, Jungwon loomed over you with messy, blonde locks, and a frown to stain for days.

“If you are hiding something, you tell me now,” he snapped darkly. Your heart dropped to your belly, and they both noticed. Jake stepped forward and you took one back, speechless, trying to stitch something together.

“Well?”

“I'm not! How can I!?” You remarked loudly, in desperate defence, but Jungwon found the hitch in your heartbeat, too easy to miss. He scoffed.

“You're on thin ice. You already know that, so why would you even dare hiding something?”

“I'm not! I swear!” You grew urgent, eyes wide and narrowed with panic as you backed away. They stalked your steps, Jungwon being much more relentless. Jake just scanned. “You know I can't defeat you.”

“I don't care what you can and can't do, I'm asking for you to spill it before I allow Jake a bite,” Jungwon remarked with a crushing gravity in his tone. It was final and threatening, enough for you to stumble back so quickly that your ankle pulled taut and you lost balance when your foot was caught.

You groaned slightly as you fell with a harsh thud and their figures stood over you with restraint and malice all at once.

They couldn't have known. You didn't even speak to Taehyun about the phone, and you know he scrunched up the paper and disposed of it. You didn't even show him the success of getting your phone, just a nod. Apprehensive, your breath made another hitch as if it hit a tall hurdle and failed.

“I'm not hiding a thing,” you uttered again. Disbelief struck Jungwon in the face and he glanced away in frustration, a hand raking through his hair. Jake narrowed his gaze, sparing his younger brother a glance. And you didn't like the look, the message transferring like a radio wave you couldn't sense.

Once more, Jungwon knelt to you, still towering over you like a haunted building. “Last time.” He dug his red gaze into yours. “Tell me what you're hiding and Jake hyung won't bite you.”

There was no way you were about to tell on yourself, about the phone—your only way out of this dangerous tunnel. You had to use it but you didn't even get to that bit either. Your eyes remained stunned, silent, and bolted with hidden refusal.

Jungwon stood, nodding as if disappointed, but really, it was a resignation of playing nice. You tensed.

Then, Jake was on you.

A scream tore from your throat as Jake's hand shot to your throat, pinning your head to the ground with a harsh thump. No. You weren't allowing them anymore of you or your blood. With an ignited spark of strength; your leg bolted to his stomach, but it only worked for a second before he straddled your hips. You shrieked.

Jungwon crossed his arms, indifferent, as if it was all a routine. Jake grunted when your cuffed hands flailed in desperation, hitting at his face, neck, chest, hands—anywhere you could get him. And your nails dug furiously into skin, creating the clear mark of struggle.

Jake yelled, annoyed, tightening his grip on your neck until your breath stuttered and your panic returned with creased eyes.

“Help me out,” Jake said to Jungwon through your struggles and scratching nails. He obliged like it was a wish, and stood by your head. You shook your head, slapping Jake's arm more aggressively in a pattern of urgent refusal.

“No—”

Jungwon didn't let you croak out anymore more as he clutched your wrists and pressed them down into the grey floor above your head. You shrieked.

Tears lined at your eyes, struggling, but Jungwon was made of cement because your hands stayed there, wriggling with futility. “Get off—!”

Jake removed the hand on your neck to hold your jaw, tilting your head back forcefully and exposing the bandage starting at the side and over the cotton gauze where Sunoo had bitten you. Jake, mesmerised, let his fingers float over your pulse, feeling the rapid fire of panicked beats. You shook your head. Jake tightened his grip. And you shrieked again but they ignored it like it was simply a fly buzzing around.

You were miniscule to them, the weakest in the food chain. He could crush your throat like glass and he wouldn't care.

Jungwon glanced at your eyes screwed shut in a plea, tears glittering and, gosh, he wanted to taste them. And another scream left you but he wasn't phased. It was your fault after all.

With no mercy, Jake ripped off the bandage tape, revealing the bruised and reddened puncture wounds poisoning your skin. You shivered, the area more sensitive than ever when an ache sparked in throbbing tingles, almost pleading for respite. When Sunoo bit you last time, it was as if he poked your skin with thick needles and pried apart each layer, each receptor, and tore it apart to invade your vessels with hot, white agony.

“D-don't… please, Jake…” you were crying now, voice trembling along with your limbs plastered down like a butterfly in a frame. It must have amused Jake because he smiled ever so slightly, the hostility making home in his eyes.

“Shh. It'll sting if you keep moving like that,” he said softly, as if he wasn't about to drain you like a blood bank.

“N-no! I swear I'm not hiding anything! Jungwon—”

“Shut up,” he replied, gripping your wrists tighter, making you sob in exasperation. You couldn't even plead your case.

Graceful, Jake lowered his lips, breathing out an exhale like the scent of your blood had given light into his eyes once more. It yanked at his desire, beckoning him closer until he let his lips feather the spot. Your legs fought behind Jake, knees trying to punch his back. It didn't work, and your panic became an anchor dragging you to the deep sea of anxiety.

His breath was warm, and he was everywhere: tilting your jaw back, lips on your neck, his other hand twirling your messy hair like he wanted to bite that too. You sobbed again, chest weighed down like the roof of your ribs would cave in, eyes blurry.

Nothing stopped him. Whilst you struggled with your wrists again, Jake licked up both puncture wounds, and you let out a sound between a groan and a harrowing sob. Every tickle of air triggered the marked area and you couldn't take the tingles storming your neck.

“Stop—!”

“Jungwon, she tastes good without me even biting,” Jake hummed, relishing in the copper of the dried blood, the scent like daisies to him on a warm, sunny day. Jungwon heard your shriek of disapproval, but he heard Jake, and he grit his jaw, restraining himself from biting the other side of your neck as well. He could, but he didn't know how much of your mind could withhold pain before the foundation collapsed.

He needed you to be compliant, not weak and drunk on anguish. Jake held your jaw tighter, neck fully exposed before the fangs prodded at your skin. You let out a raw scream, the type that skinned your throat until it burned, refusing to go through it again. No care passed through. Jake bit in with a hasty crunch and it was as if he had torn through a net with scissors.

Not even a second went by when your head pounded, neck invaded with agony that felt like lightning striking your whole body. You writhed as if you could escape it but no matter how much you struggled, the pain hailed down your shoulder and cruelly hammered up your skull.

Jake hummed loudly, eyes shut as he fed on your blood like water, no mercy for how he broke through the healing barrier of your neck. Your sobs were constant now, chest heaving with each motion of his lips. But for him, he inhaled it like it was a gift from evil itself, void of poison and oh so sweet.

It felt like you couldn't breathe. Like your throat physically swelled and closed up because of the intrusion of his fangs. Your knuckles turned white, body tensing into knots until you couldn't understand anything but the tides of constant pain drowning you, clogging your eyes, lungs, and mind.

Jake gulped the blood like a prayer, groaning darkly as he felt your breaths quiver, and your body die down into agonised shivers under your skin. At that point, your eyes drifted to close, barely understanding if you were floating or if you had finally lost it.

Jungwon released your wrists. Jake sat up, licking his lips to savour every atom of your blood and grinned. Haphazard, he returned the weak excuse of a bandage to your neck, and observed your slow and careful heartbeat. As if your body was preparing to go into a dream, conserving whatever was left of you.

“Fuck, you need to taste for yourself.” Jake lifted himself off you, and you didn't even get to process it. You just laid there like a corpse on the edge of death, eyes blinking slowly with tears.

“I would, but I think you took my half,” Jungwon said with a shrug, glancing down at you with mockery. Then, he kneeled down, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, hand lingering before he whispered the threat.

“Remember the deal or let yourself become a monster.”

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

The next sixteen hours was one, silent blur. You were in a dream where you were back home, back with your father, and moving somewhere with a scarce population and homes. It was just a countryside where a sole hut stood bathing in the sunlight. In that dream, you took in the world outside, the forest, crops, and you thought it was over. But then, your dream self touched your neck and pain exploded there until you collapsed to your knees, chest heaving breathlessly as agony climbed up your skull like a thick tide.

Pain swelled in your throat, and someone was shaking you. Your father, perhaps, but when it was deeper, more demanding, your eyes snapped open to the blurry ceiling.

A slight gasp choked past your lips, sweat glistening on the crown of your head and neck. And above you, Riki. He was holding a bottle of water and some leftover fruits. How could you eat when you had recovered the past week in one, mortifying dream? Not only that—but you had been bitten again.

He had crossed a boundary and didn't mind violating your skin like it was another reward or prize he wanted to sink his fangs into. And he did so without an inch of remorse. All you could remember was how close it felt to dying and he was proud of it because he was the one that let you tip near the edge of life.

“Can you hear me or are you just in a goldfish brain right now?” Riki's voice came through, derisive. Ignoring the jab, you gathered every piece of yourself to roll onto your side and lean on your elbow. There was no respite as the bite mark now radiated pure agony in pulsing waves, up to your temple, and swarming you with it.

Riki was still crouching but placed them down, allowing you to move at the pace of a tortoise. Eating didn't bring relief. It took more effort to do so, having to move your jaw, swallow the contents, and your neck protested at the wound. Food had lost all meaning, and you truly felt sick.

After that, you had been taken to the labs like you weren't losing your legs, and it was worse since Jay and Jungwon were both watching over like hawks. Jay had his arms crossed, scarlet gaze cutting into the scientists; Jungwon tucked his hands into his pockets, observing closely as you limped in, holding onto the counter like you had no sense of gravity.

Taehyun gasped, rushing over with Minju who saw the dried blood in the cotton collar of your shirt. You could barely stand and fell into both of them. Jungwon's jaw tightened.

“Oh my gosh…” Minju whispered sadly, embracing you into her.

Before they could rescue you, his voice rang out like a whip. “Stop.”

Minju held you tighter as you leaned on her. She was so warm, and you honestly didn't want to let go. Everything felt like a mix between cold and scorching. Quite clearly, your body was fraying away into insanity.

Taehyung grew annoyed. “What?”

“It's been three days. Where is the venom?” Jungwon replied, stepping close and almost curling his fists tighter when your blood curled around his nose and hooked him in.

“It's not ready—”

“Why? This should be your priority,” Jungwon challenged, something caught in his eyes, like he knew something but he couldn't quite figure out exactly what he discovered. You glanced at Namjoon who stood very stiffly by the other counter. According to him, he made the weakest version of the venom, a placebo. So, technically, he did make it, but it wouldn't be unlocking its full potential. Not enough to turn anyone.

Even with that reassurance planted in your head, panic tingled up your skin like a very slow poison.You held Minju tighter.

“It's not easy to make and purify something in mass within three days,” Taehyun remarked with narrowed eyes that tried to match Jungwon's. Jay scoffed, glancing over at Namjoon, who blinked at the counter and sighed as he began to retrieve something from one of the cabinets.

You watched as he returned with one vial, something murky and grey sitting within it. You almost cringed.

“If you must have one, then here,” Namjoon said, handing it over to Jungwon. It was the size of his palm, menacing and deciding the fate of the next person.

“Let's test it.”

Jungwon was already walking away but before he did, he tore you out of Minju's grip, making you stumble and panic even more. Your head spun and you had no choice but to clutch onto his arm and let your legs find their own strength. Minju reached out for you but Jay kept her in place. She shrunk away.

Taehyun and Namjoon followed behind, entering the patient room with unspoken questions and queries. The ward was messed up, the curtains thrown and ripped, beds haphazard and no longer at the wall. Inside, a few unconscious police officers were passed out there, some blood or bruises blooming in their skin.

It was horrifying at most. The one place that was supposed to help patients avoid vampirism had turned into a sanctuary for them. An experimenting cage prickling hatred within.

“Give it to one of them,” Jungwon said to you despite the exhaustion sinking into your bones like metal. Taehyun grit his teeth.

“Let me do it,” he snapped at both vampires before snagging the venom out his grip, and approaching one of the bodies. Something protested within you. Probably guilt. It started subtle, like hunger gnawing at your stomach, until it rose to your chest like a wave that urged you to do something. When you tried to tug away from Jungwon, Jay just held your shoulder in a silent, bruising grip, the side with emanating neck pain.

Namjoon and you watched as Taehyun readied the needles, collected it into the syringe only for him to pierce the man's skin and surge the liquid through.

Once Taehyun stood and threw the syringe away, nothing happened. Heck. It was so still that you were sure you heard your own heartbeat asking questions before the landslide of horror crashed into you again.

The man twitched, barely groaned and simply turned his head to the other side as if something tickled him. It felt wrong to feel even a drop of relief that nothing happened, and then when Jungwon turned to you, it vanished.

Frustration and more disbelief coursed through his every feature, and he tightened the hand latched on your upper arm, making you wince.

“What the fuck is this?” He snapped to all three of you. Taehyun and Namjoon both glanced at the man, trying to weave excuses because they knew this would happen. Even you did. But you didn't think Jungwon's impatience would expect something to actually happen.

Silence hummed in the air, uncomfortable and winding. Jay scoffed and nudged you in warning. “Explanation?”

Honestly, how could you say that you purposely made a watered version of the venom so that you could trick them? You would be saying ‘just kill me now and get it over with!’

Too anxious to look at Jungwon, he grit his teeth, sparing a malicious glance to the two scientists before his hand snapped to the back of your neck. Pain and the burning ache thrummed through your neck at the hold, a sound of protest leaving you as he forced your gaze to his. You tried to push his chest, but the weight of his hand on your nape was crushing, and you whimpered.

Taehyun lunged at Jungwon, but was stopped by Jay giving him a shove back at his resistance.

“You're hurting her!”

“She'll survive,” Jungwon muttered, scanning over the apprehension flooding your fluttering eyes, the way your heart skipped several beats until he could practically hear it. He pulled you in closer until there was simply an inch left between you and him. It gave you the chance to once again meet the darkness living in his crimson gaze.

“Intern Song, why isn't that venom working?” He asked darkly, briefly glancing at the fallen officer on the side. What could you say? That you were tricking him? He wouldn't even turn you. He would just kill you.

When you didn't answer, he gripped your nape harder and you had to refrain from screaming at him to let go. Your neck furiously burned.

“I-I don't know. Fuck, let me go—” you tried to push his chest again. He didn't let you.

“What do you mean? Aren't you making the venom?”

“I am! The senior doctors are finalising it. It's not easy to make it from a sample,” you uttered, meeting his killer, crimson gaze with all the innocence and false truths you could, grabbing at all the loose threads. Jungwon grit his teeth, and something soured in them, like death was looming.

Suddenly, he let you go, stepping back slowly and you exhaled deeply, clutching your neck that curled with a throbbing pain. Taehyun held onto your arm gently, the opposite of these vampires.

Silence stilled the air but Jungwon simply walked over to the soldier that had been injected, and stared, like he was calculating something. Then, within an instant, his hand clutched the officer's throat, fingers driving into his throat as his knuckles stained white. Then, a crack.

The man's head clicked back like the very bone meant to hold him there had vanished into thin air, stolen from him.

You didn't know how to breathe, the alarm silently invading your brain but you remained incredibly still. He had killed him. And for what? You knew why. To prove a point that he held the control, he held the blade for it and he would use it. All these people were collateral damage and he didn't care.

Stumbling into Taehyun, your heartbeat raced like it was working hard to just ignore the body, to erase and bleach the memory until it wasn't there. Except, you couldn't forget. And Jungwon knew it. It was impossible to scrub away the death stitched into your mind.

Jay didn't even flinch as Jungwon straightened like that death gave him a red carpet of power.

“For every failed venom, I'll just kill them. Then, the blood will be on your hands,” Jungwon declared as he walked to you and the other two boys. Although your own weight was heavy enough, you felt Taehyun and Namjoon's. Tension bolted in your shoulders until the guilt and hopelessness cut into you like a dagger, even though he was responsible for handling the hilt.

You didn't look at him. You looked at the man with a monstrous bruise on his abandoned neck. Another life left as scraps for death.

“Understand?” Jungwon asked tersely. Somewhere in between the conflict of your hope and guilt, you nodded once, wishing it was all a surreal dream.

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

The rest of the night was silent but heavy. As if that confrontation had hit everyone, the intensity of the vampires constricting everyone into wordless compliance. You hated it. For the rest of the evening, your lips stayed shut.

Even when Minju replaced the bandage and gauze on your tender neck, thoughts weighed in your eyes with all possibilities of how this could fail. Or if it had failed already and this was your life to accept when you confronted it.

When you were back in your room, Jay left you, and that's when you took the chance to sneak back to the bathroom, practically stumbling into the pristine room. When you crouched by the sink, you got your phone from behind it, unlocking it with shaky breaths and determination on a tightrope.

Entering the three numbers into the messages app, you managed to connect to the police. The automated message was annoying at first, but once figuring it out, you saw the dancing dots.

[“What seems to be the emergency?”]

This will work. It will. They haven't found the phone and you planned to keep it like that. You began typing, the anticipation bubbling up your chest and stinging at your throat. You felt sick from this whole thing. Despite it all, you texted the number that you snuck a phone in and there were scientists being held here, forced to accept their demands in creating venom.

[“They are planning to ambush any other officers coming and turn them. The ground is off limits”] You texted, hands trembling slightly, sleep pulling on your eyelids.

[“Is there a place where the scientists can go to be rescued?”] The message said.

When you really thought about it, the only place you could think of was the rooftop. Often abandoned during the cold times, it was the perfect place for everyone to wait and gather for an escape. Also, you know the vampires didn't know about it either. From what you know, the bitten ones had all their attention on the ground floor, and that's all you needed to type.

Once explaining your situation, you had sat there for twenty minutes, setting out the details of the plan, the exact steps of the route heading to rescue, allowing even the smallest drop of hope to soothe your heart.

The plan was to first wait for the officers to attack first, leading them away from the scientists and allowing you to inject the vampires with the antivenom when they least expected it. When the officers do fully barge into the building, the officers could have an advantage over their weakened bodies, possibly caging them once more. After that, you and the other scientists would get out first whilst the officers dealt with them, the roof being the place where a helicopter would whirr in like the light at the end of the tunnel. The bitten ones would be at the bottom ground, and if they didn't know how to control their lust for blood and see through it, then it would be dangerous for everyone else.

You and the scientists would get out and return with an antidote for the poisoned people and happily ever after.

Hopefully.

[“When are you certain the antivenom will be made?”]

Biting your lip and remembering the process, you took a deep breath, dispersing the cement pressing at your ribs and typed.

[“3 days TOP”]

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

“Is it just me or is it suspiciously quiet tonight?” Sunoo asked, wiping the blood from his mouth that he had fed on from one of the officers that had died yesterday.

The ground floor was practically a blood haven with all the death lying around the corridors, bodies lifeless but useful as a food source.

Heeseung fiddled with his black mask, his eyes crimson and brooding, as if there was a cloud of thoughts appearing and then disappearing like an illusion. “Maybe they gave up.”

“No. I can't hear any sirens. Not even from a distant,” Jay said, narrowing his gaze out the window, watching the night sky as if it had eyes in the stars. Even then, an intense flow of thoughts rushed through his ears. While the silence simmered, Sunghoon shrugged, legs alleviated on a random desk cluttered with papers and files.

“Do you want to hear sirens?”

Jay scoffed and snapped his eyes to Sunghoon. “You know what I mean. It's strange.”

“Jay hyung has a point. Usually, the stupid sirens circle the area before leaving, but tonight… nothing,” Riki said, eyebrows raised, hands making a flat gesture across the air.

“Do you think they have a new strategy?” Jake chimed, arms crossed with a stony contemplation hardening in his eyes. Everyone stayed silent before Jungwon stood from a chair, catching all of their eyes like mice following the leader.

“They have no information on who is alive in the building. They can't have a new strategy if innocent civilians are known to be trapped,” Jungwon began saying, drawing out his thoughts in words. “Unless they know something, which is impossible because not a single person has escaped.”

Sunoo perked up, sudden realisation flashing through him. “So, what you're saying is—”

“The officers don't have a strategy, but someone does.” Jungwon finished off and everyone tensed, as if waiting for him to drop the bomb on them.

Sunghoon hummed. “That intern. Y/n.”

“Gosh, she's fucking persistent,” Heeseung muttered, the sound of your name almost grating on his nerves like a sharp knife.

“It's like she is waiting for something,” Jake suggested from his gut feeling. Jungwon nodded.

“I don't know what strategy she has, but if we're going to build our own army and spread our legacy, our venom, then we need to be ready. We can't let her outsmart us. She needs to know her place,” Jungwon declared, looking each of them in the eye as the same idea turned and twisted in their gazes, darkening into something violent. Something akin to a promise.

Riki smirked. “What is on your mind, hyung?”

Jungwon leaned back against the wall, arms crossed.

“Listen closely.”

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

“Why are they targeting you?”

Taehyun was currently standing before you, unwrapping a bandage and some tape to replace the old ones at your bite wound. The lab was filled with the same machinery, the hum of the AC, and some secret conversations.

Jungwon was in the other room, but you knew he could walk into the one you were sitting in and scrutinise. He didn't say much when he escorted you down, and honestly, the anxiety never left your body. Like it knew he wasn't done. That he was simmering deep down, and your body could see through the silence.

“I don't know.” You sighed softly, pulling your hair to the side so he could peel off the old, bloodied one. It stung when he did, your skin tightening with pain and you tensed. Rubbing your shoulder, he shushed you, sympathetic.

“It's going to sting. Sorry.”

“It's fine. But, Tae…”

Taehyun halted slightly, but you gestured for him to come closer. As he did, he masked it with the fact he had to encircle the bandage around your neck.

“I have… a plan. We need that… ‘AVenom’ in two days.” Your gaze met his confused ones.

“Specific,” he replied softly, rolling the path of the bandage once more.

And there, you told him the plan. All of it but with a few code names here and there. When he finished putting the bandage and plaster over your neck, he let out a shaky breath, as if overwhelmed with your ambitious plan, and stepped back.

“Y/n, you sound insane…” he began, making you frown. “... but I trust you. If you say it will work… then fine.”

Then, a small smile graced your lips and made his heart flip. He stepped away, cleaning up the first aid medical kit when Jungwon stood at the doorway, examining your relaxed features and hearing the steady heartbeat. Again. He was suspicious.

That was why when he chained you up in that damn, lonely prison room, he stayed. He tightened the cuffs at your wrist, hand lingering like he wanted to dig up your heartbeat and swallow it for himself. Then, he stood, crossed arms, gaze burning you as if he could melt away whatever lies you had sculpted.

Unnerving as it was, you stiffly sat there and wondered what he wanted, but also when would he leave? Suppressing the panic from jumping with your heartbeat, you met his gaze, and he tilted his head.

“How is the venom coming along?” He asked too calmly, setting you on edge. Pulling at all the previous fake threads, you spoke.

“The seniors said it's going okay.”

“I want to test whatever samples you have on the humans. I saw something blue,” he said, demanding it, even. And that made you snap your eyes up at him because those samples you were creating were the antivenom. Not whatever he wanted from you. And those were strictly for the vampires, a death wish in a vial. Jungwon scanned the apprehension brewing in your eyes and uncrossed his arms.

“It's… nearly ready, but not yet.”

“I'm getting impatient, Intern Song. When will it be ready—”

“Gosh, I don't know!”

Jungwon leaned down towards you with a sharp, crimson dart. “Why? Are you not creating it?”

“I am! The team are. Just give it a few days,” you snapped at him.

“I need it now, Y/n. When will it be ready? How many days—?!”

“Two days… just… something like that,” you uttered. The regret flagged up like a flash in an instant, realising how quickly your restraint had cracked at the edges even if it was a little. At that, a silence radiated from him, like all that sharpness had mellowed into something knowing. Your agitation felt suffocating, the type to make you squirm. Jungwon took a menacing step closer, secret realisation flickering into another big flame.

“Okay. Two days…”

“Please leave,” you whispered, eyes fluttering up to him and his stare. It didn't comfort you when the hunger coiled in his gaze, as if it had been there for a while and it had shown itself from the shadows. So subtle but heavy, but enough to press your voice into your own throat.

Your breath hitched in utter anxiety. “Jungwon?”

“You know, I want to believe you. I really do.”

“What are you—”

Jungwon tipped your chin up with a harsh hand, shutting you up. “There is just so much I can hold back. But if you are telling the truth, I won't hurt you too much.”

In an instant, you shoved his hand away from you, horror filling your lungs like cement. He narrowed his gaze.

“Don't. You're not biting me again. You're not fucking biting me—”

“I'm a simple creature, Y/n. I need blood. And patience. And you're giving me none.” Jungwon's hand slipped to your neck, feathering over your jaw in caution. But even then, you repelled yourself from the danger that was his hand. He didn't appreciate it and gripped your jaw again like the first time he had, making your nerves jump.

“You will give me the blood. Remember how I said you exhaust me? I need to be compensated.”

“I can't…” you shook your head, but he was already towering over you, caging you in his shadow and authority. Your body froze and he tilted your head up until you saw nothing but him.

“You talk too much,” he uttered. When you were about to protest again, he said, “Would you rather me bite Taehyun?”

Jungwon almost scowled at the immediate worry crashing all those thoughts in your eyes, and his fangs ached in bitterness. How he wanted to shut up those thoughts from infecting your heartbeat and words. For you to be his.

The silence said a lot.

“Exactly.”

With that, he simply tore the bandage unto threads, letting it fall from your neck and revealing the punctures in your tender skin. You shuddered, facing him in refusal. “Please…”

Ignoring your pretty pleas, his thumb brushed over the bumpy skin, drinking in your anguished whimpers, and dipped his nose there. The smell made him hum. Your heart raced, exploding into that familiar terror that made him crave more.

You.

“Just to remind you,” he whispered before placing his lips firmly on the same bite marks aching up your skull, and aligned his fangs in anticipation. Gasping sharply, your hand drove forward into his chest, but he simply pushed it down, trapping you between his legs by lifting his knee to the bench beside your thigh.

A sickening shudder whipped down your chest when he pressed a horrifyingly lingering kiss to your already-agonised neck, ignoring your squirming head. You wanted this to end, to escape whatever Hell you were trapped in.

Without a second thought, he cupped your nape and pierced his fangs into your tender skin with an unavoidable and striking hunger. You barely processed it. The pain was first. A bolt of thundering pain pounded down your neck and skull, like a small explosion had broken out again and burned all your nerves. Your shriek became broken, akin to your crumbling strength. You tried to clutch at his shirt but he simply squeezed your hand in warning as he swallowed greedily.

Your body fell limp, the agony blinding your senses as your head lolled back. He lowered you until your body draped along the bench, lips still feeding on your blood, tugging at your skin like needles. Jungwon drank like your blood was made of glass, of something sweet and grown on the finest vineyards to exist. He didn't want to stop.

A plethora of groans and cries left your chapped lips, hands sharply scratching his neck but it didn't even affect him. It was like tickling his skin with feathers. It was only easier for him to pin down your cuffed hands to the cold, metallic bench.

It all burned, the sensation of it aching up the side of your head, down your shoulder, all the way down to your side and getting rid of all your thoughts. Each breath, each inhale and sob ached, as if your ribs would collapse and press into your lungs like bricks.

For him, he didn't care. He drank in your cries, the copper decorating your blood like a present he unwrapped and was consuming. When you whimpered, he pressed the pad of his thumb on the centre of your throat and your heartbeat stuttered ten times, breath caught in your throat as you let out another strangled cry. He smiled darkly and tugged on your blood once more before departing with a derisive lick to your bruised neck.

Your eyes were closed to shut out the pain, but he was still looming over you with pride after he had sent a wealth of shivers to seize your body.

“You did well,” Jungwon murmured, his nose dipping into your cheek to savour you. He glanced down to your exhausted face, eyes closed, lips parted to suck in as much air as you could, and head lolled to the side. Sleep called you, pulling you in with the promise to get rid of the pain, even if for a little bit.

“Sleep.”

As if you had heard him, you fell limp on the bench, falling into the darkness.

Jungwon simply put the bandage back on, fingers feathering over your collarbone, and left with one last, dark glance back.

Then, he was gone.

Whatever you had planned, he wasn't going to allow it to happen. It would stay a dream that you stupidly curated in your head.

He would make sure of it.

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

Two days passed. Yesterday, you could barely hold your head up and ended up sleeping with your head and arm draped across the counter. Today, Jungwon's mark ached like it was locked away behind a thick door, but the bite flickered and spoke agony into your nerves like a whisper. It was another voice orbiting your head, making you want to give into the anxiety.

The thought hit you now. Fighting against Jungwon and the vampires was like you fighting people with armour without having any protection yourself.

All that apprehension finally gave light to the doubtful thoughts resurfacing like thick ice in the water. You were fighting against vampires. Supernatural beings that had witnessed more things than one, and killed too. No physical armour could be of use.

Their strength easily outweighed you and the team, there was no point denying that. So, fighting them with bare hands wasn't a path to go down. But outsmarting them was not a bad idea at all if you just conjured the correct type without their suspicions.

A plan but dangerous nonetheless.

Tonight, Namjoon and the others made fourteen antivenoms, the dark blue in vials, ready to be silent killers. You hope.

If this failed, then all your confidence would crumble into rubble. The thought sent an uneasy shudder to your heart, or it was because of your pulsing neck. It complained every hour.

Currently, the clock struck six PM, the day morphing away into the dark, evening sky, the labs silent with a few murmurs here and there. In the other room, Sunoo and Jungwon were silent. Eerily silent. But you blamed it on your nerves trying to find an excuse to be anxious about everything.

“Okay…” Soobin gathered everyone into a little circle. He held up the rack with the fourteen vials. “Each of us takes two. Once the officers cause the distraction downstairs, at least half of them will go down. Sunoo and Jungwon will stay with us, but they will be our first targets before moving onto the next ones.”

Everyone nodded. You, Taehyun, Soobin, Chaewon, Minju, Seokjin, and Namjoon took two. The extra vial stayed in your pocket. For now, you and Taehyun would go.

“If you can't hold your head up, let me do it,” Taehyun protested as he walked with you through the lab, obviously glancing at your bruised neck.

“No… I'm fine.” You smiled a little, stopping when you heard the sirens loud and clear downstairs. It blanketed the building and acted as the signal to put the plan into motion. Glancing back to Taehyun, you gave a nod, to which he returned it with newfound strength and faith in the plan, in you.

The group nodded you and him off, and there you went into the next room.

Jungwon and Sunoo weren't there, so you led the way to the halls, abandoned and quiet. The lights blinked above, death scenting the floors. Peeking out, there was another empty hallway.

“Do you think they went downstairs to deal with the distraction?” You whispered, stepping into said hallway with a perplexed Taehyun. You brought out the syringe, loading the liquid into the capped injection.

“Possibly. But I don't want to split up,” he replied with desperate eyes and worry. Worry for you and your bruised neck. As much as you appreciated the concern, the adrenaline pretty much tucked your anxiety away into a small pocket in your brain.

“We have to. It'll be quicker,” you said, already walking towards the main corridor. With no choice, he followed you to the hallway with different, winding hallways and the stairs. Once at the railings, you nodded to him.

“Good luck.” You blinked at him. Taehyun pursed his lips, as if preparing himself, and nodded.

“You too.”

He went left, you went right, going down the stairs slowly. The lights were off down here, the dim emergency lights barely lighting the ceiling. It freaked you out but gosh, you couldn't afford the nerves right now. Not when this is what you have had three bites for. For your mother, too. Her work, her life—they were worth fighting for, even if her voice ceased to exist.

Taking a deep breath, you faced the darkened hallway head on, the sirens wailing nearby like an endless knell, as if they knew tonight was final, an end.

You walked. Your shoes barely made a sound, sticking to the wall as a guide to help yourself, anxiety leaking like rain through a roof you thought would protect you. The walls ran with violent shadows, swallowing the walls as you walked on. Upon the next door, you peeked into the glass.

Red and blue lights blared through the windows, the next hallway empty. Good enough. They must be gathered somewhere near the entrance. You have to at least find one of the vampires.

Hauling the door open, you slowly walked among the alarming lights, each one coiling your chest into tight anticipation. It stretched beyond your stomach, curling around your gut. At the next one, you peeked around the broken hinges to see a figure, back to you, dark hair and similar clothing to Heeseung. He wasn't looking at you, but his masked face was directed towards the next winding hallway, almost monitoring.

Anger twisted in your chest at the sight of him—no, the mere thought of the vampires binded you with a rushing, wild rage set to destroy them. They barged into your life, surrounding you with so much death, that it almost felt normal. You suppose it's normal for them to hold hands with death and let it take away their leftovers.

Gripping the syringe even more, you stepped into the same hallway, eyes focused like he had a target drawn on his back. Everything else faded away as Heeseung became the focal point, all your accumulated frustration ready to hit him like an arrow.

He didn't turn when you approached with a small distance between you and him. You didn't care.

Taking off the cap, you stabbed his nape with the antivenom, injecting it swiftly as he groaned, falling forward and making his mask fall to the floor. He groaned again, but it didn't sound like Heeseung. In fact, this dude had shorter hair, black veins protruding his skin like it didn't belong there.

Cold horror crept up your chest, each one digging into your lungs. When you turned the dude around with a shove, it wasn't Heeseung.

It was a random man, probably a bitten officer, and he looked horrified, confused.

Bewildered, you stepped back. None of the officers were supposed to be injected and you did just that. He groaned, eyes shutting as he crumbled to his knees, clutching his neck.

“N-no, oh no, you're not one o-of them—”

“No, he isn't, is he?” Heeseung said behind you, and when you whipped your head around, there he was, looming over you with murderous intent swarming his scarlet eyes.

Before you could react, he slammed you back against the wall, fingers wrapped around your throat, right on your bite mark. You let out a choked scream, hands clawing at him and his wrist. It wasn't enough to leave you without air, but enough to express the power over you. That he knew your life was a petal he could crush in his palm.

Heeseung leaned in, a ghost of a smirk on his face, mocking you. “You think you were smart, didn't you?”

You struggled, nails digging into his very hand that was around your throat, but you met his gaze head on. A brief flicker down to your frantic fingers, and he scoffed, tightening his grip, the anger now polluting his gaze.

“Maybe if you follow orders, it will be easier for Jungwon to turn you.” He let his fangs glint, and your heartbeat stuttered when he leaned into your cheek.

You had to think. But all you could think was run. Just run. Escape.

As he leaned in, your knee shot up into his groin and he doubled over, grunting in pain. You took the chance to shove him off and ran down the darkened hallway. A snarl escaped him as he swiftly followed, your figure reaching the other set of double doors, bursting through them like there was safety on the other side. Your stamina dried a little. This wasn't a part of the plan. And that scared you.

The next hallway had some weary officers, hunched and hollow at the end of it, and when they saw Heeseung chase after you, it was like an invisible command.

They staggered towards you.

Panic swept at your feet like a tide, and you had to force your legs to function as you took a sharp left into a random room, pushing the door. It was a random office, desks abandoned with papers and notes. Your heartbeat slammed as Heeseung and those two officers stormed in, and you grabbed the spinning chair, and launched it towards him.

It hit him square in the stomach, nearly tumbling over. A small success, and you set off again down the mazes of desks and cubicles, running off to the other exit. You practically felt Heeseung's frustration and rage radiate into you like it was a physical thing. As if you were about to be hit with a tsunami.

No time. You opened up the door, breathless, and you rushed into the next room, some type of meeting room, but quickly maneuvered your way to the other side, hauling the door open.

The hallway on your left had more people, some of them in chaos and you had no idea if it was a safe choice to go down that way. If you went right, you could go back and find Taehyun and get to the rooftop. Except, where were the others and were they more successful in getting the vampires or not?

Gosh, you hoped so. If this didn't work, you didn't know what fate held for you.

Discreetly, you took the right, getting away from Heeseung and whatever mayhem was down there. You ignored the ache in your neck, ignored your shaky feet, and slammed it down the corridor and through the darkness. You were breathless when you reached the stairs only to see a figure standing there in the light.

At first, his features weren't discernable. He was taller, short hair, and when he turned, that wretched bat with barbed wire was there in his hold.

Riki.

Your breath stuttered, and you took a step back, feeling your composure crumble.

He didn't let you.

Riki lunged down the stairs, striking the bat near your torso. It hit the wall instead but you felt the air of it hitting you, enough to shake your heart. He smirked.

“Nice try,” he muttered before he raised the bat again to its peak and brought it down. With a choked yellow, you threw yourself to the side, bumping into the stairwell, and heard the sickening thud against the wall. He rolled his neck, darkness bleeding into his gaze and into that damn smirk.

That wasn't good. You ran. Not up the stairs, but down the other hallway that cowered in the shadows. Riki let out a scoff and followed, legs taking longer strides to get to you.

You ran, pushing yourself harder as you reached another set of double doors, thoughts colliding, burning.

His heavy footsteps sounded like the gait of a puma, hunting you down. You tried not to become disheartened, but you felt the plan sinking into the deepest depths, somewhere away from you.

As you reached it, the door opened before you could and you couldn't stop yourself as you slammed into Sunghoon, his tall self lurking with coldness, scarlet eyes locking onto yours.

Panic strung into a tight, hasty knot, making it so hard to breathe and process. Then, a crack to your ribs stumbled you off your feet, forcing you to the wall as pain exploded into a slow, jagged burn. You cried out, breaths hitching as Riki retracted the barbed bat, a malignant smile gracing his lips. Sunghoon gracefully joined and both of them hovered over you like a storm contained in dark, gloomy clouds.

They didn't wear their masks.

This was their plan. To trick you and the others into chasing your own tails and humiliating you. You shakily breathed, eyes shifting between the two.

You were fucked. So inevitably fucked.

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

“Look who decided to join in.” Jungwon grinned mockingly as he held the dormant chainsaw, observing how Sunghoon shoved you into the lab tables until you trembled and bit your lip to contain your groan.

Sunghoon and Riki had easily crushed your plan. When you tried to fight them off, Riki simply raised his bat like a quiet threat, and there was no choice but to follow. And now, your heart dropped as everyone was gathered with faces displaying the epitome of fear.

They failed.

Taehyun had a large bruise on his jaw, so did Seokjin. The same anxiety pressed into your ribs, and you wanted to sink to the floor and scream.

Jungwon slammed the chainsaw down in front of you, smiling when he saw you flinch. No, he wasn't happy. He was pleased about the useless plan, that it collapsed on its legs before it could even run.

Stepping back, he simply followed with an unmoving smirk that sent your stomach prickling with thorns. “I-I can explain—”

“Good. Then… maybe, I can consider whether to go easy on you or not,” he cut you off, stepping towards you once more as you backed into the other set of counters with panic fluttering in your heartbeat. All seven of them were here, blending with the shadows. No… they were the shadows.

And Jungwon was the largest one with scarlet death making home in his eyes.

“I-I…”

What even was there to explain? At face value, no fabric of excuse could be stitched, no matter how colourful you made it or how many sequins you adorned it with, there was nothing to lie about. Jungwon just wanted you to state your failure out loud in a power play where he was coming out on top. To shove that humiliation right back at you. It was your fault. All of it. You had the bizarre plan, gave it rusty wheels and it all crashed.

Trembling, you felt Jungwon step closer, his shoes coming into view, trapping you in his oppressive bubble. He leaned in wickedly. “Speechless, right?”

When you didn't reply, he turned to Sunoo who was scanning his hacksaw for any meagre dust over the metal thorns, but when they met eyes, he got the message. You watched in bewilderment as he moved to the scientists, almost slower than necessary, like he was taunting them with false kindness. In a panic, you went to step forward but Jungwon's arm shot out, a steel bar against your torso.

“No. You've done enough, Intern,” he said too calmly, setting your composure on fire. You clawed at his arm, fighting to lower it.

“Don't—”

In a snap, Jungwon gripped your nape with a sharp and silent remark, turning your head so that you had nowhere to look but the warning written within. Your breath hitched, eyes fluttering with apprehension.

“I said, no. Do you understand what that means, Y/n?” He tilted his head, almost challenging you. This time, you didn't speak.

Sunoo took that chance and approached Soobin despite him being taller. Terror prickled Soobin as he took a trembling step back, almost confused at the same time. It didn't distract the vampire as he dragged the hacksaw along the counter tops. The group parted and repelled until Soobin stood there, sole.

This can't be happening. This was your fault. All of it. You were the stupid one that forged the plan, not Soobin. Not any of them. The guilt came quick, like bile before you could stop it, and you struggled again, refusing to let this pass. You can't be the one watching again. The grip on your nape became crushing until the wound on your neck thundered with the familiar prickles and warning. Jungwon didn't care, and kept you staring.

With a chilling smile, Sunoo glimpsed Jungwon for some type of verbal message and then gazed at Soobin with bloodlust, like he was already deciphering what his blood would taste like.

“W-wait—” Soobin tried to say but Sunoo moved like the wind. One second, he was standing a few feet away, and in the next, flesh was torn and Soobin clutched his bleeding neck, a choked scream falling from his parted lips. Everyone staggered back in shock, and you froze, eyes wide and frozen as he crumbled to his knees, gurgling in pain. With a morbid thud, he laid on his face, blood pooling the floor as the life floated from his body.

It pulled you away, and suddenly, you were staring at your mother, falling into death just like that. No one said a word.

And then, you let out a shaky breath, snapping your gaze to Jungwon in rage. You pushed at his chest, hopeless. “He didn't do anything! It was me!”

“I know it was you,” Jungwon scoffed, letting go of your nape to catch your frantic hands to his chest. “You're not off the hook either. But, hurting you isn't enough.”

The other six snickered behind him. Sunoo wiped the hacksaw with his sleeve with precision, pleased with himself. “Please let me have one more.”

Jay scoffed, wrapping the chain of his bludgeon around his knuckles like a prize. “Sunoo, you're growing spoiled.”

“Not true,” Sunoo remarked, glaring at the elder one that simply sauntered over, randomly letting his eyes glaze over Chaewon. She stood frozen, practically rooted to the ground from terror and disbelief. You couldn't let this happen.

Yanking aggressively on Jungwon's grip, you desperately faced him again. “Tell him to stop!”

A look of mock contemplation flashed over his eyes and then twisted into a black hole of pure evil and shadows. He liked sucking all that hopeful light out of you. Just to taunt you, he leaned down to meet your restless eyes.

“Why should I? I mean, you're not one for listening either. So why should I do the same?”

“This was all me! It was all me!” You yelled at him, slamming your trapped fists against him as Jay approached Chaewon, cocking the spiky weapon side-to-side, testing how much death he could inflict in one go.

It was no use. When Chaewon tried to run, Jay struck the bludgeon right into the base of her skull, the crack so dull but clear that it felt like a crevice had been ruptured right within your sternum. It felt like metal and stone. Like steel had split you in half. Your breath fell short.

A scream tore from her throat, body hitting the floor. The others stood in an icy sea of fear, unable to move their limbs, afraid that they were next. You struggled even more and Jungwon tightened his grasp until it felt like your wrists would snap. A quiet groan left your lips.

“No more of that,” Jungwon said darkly, leaning over you, eyeing your neck as his next goal. A shudder broke through your spine. “As promised…”

Like a preying snake, his hand curled beside your neck, moving your messed hair to the side, revealing the clumsy bandage. “I will turn you. You will become a monster. Just a consequence of your… disobedience.”

“W-wait—” you tried to breathe but his hand then slid and curled around your locks, forcing a breathless cry to escape you. He looked sick of it now. All that playful malice was now hollow.

“Shut it.” Jungwon tilted his head, eyes straying to your neck, almost sensing the flutters within your neck. Your pulse basically became ragged, unstable, and he was addicted.

Taehyun clenched his fists, breaths heavy with rage and an urge to kill them all. To kill those vampires with his bare hands. It simmered, reaching his hands, and he twitched, unable to hold back. With pure anger, Taehyun lunged at Jungwon, fist swung back only for a metal and barbed bat to smack into his stomach.

Pain sprung in his skin as he doubled over onto his knees, groaning in exasperation. Even then, he met your gaze, searching for any type of hidden plan, but you had raw, unfiltered panic sparking in them. It couldn't end like this.

Jungwon snorted, still holding your locks like they were his but his eyes fixated on the boy on his knees.

Riki scoffed too, caressing his bat with power. “Bad choice.”

“Horrible, even,” Jungwon added, letting go of you only to swipe his leg into the boy's face with such precision, that he fell onto his side, agony pulsing up his cheek. He was sure there was blood on his tongue. You gasped, cupping your mouth in horror.

It needed to end. You needed to do something. Gosh, any type of exit, you needed it. Somehow, you needed to carve something out of a dead end with bare nails. Except all these dead ends had death traps in place.

It was impossible. You lost.

In all that determination you once harboured, tears arose over your defenses, and you wanted to crumble.

Turning back to your rigid figure against the counter, Jungwon hauled you in by your upper arm, lips elegantly hovering over the bandage. Cringing away, he simply chuckled and it was wrapped in hostility that he wanted you to hear. With his other hand, he peeled off the bandage, almost sighing in satisfaction at the dried blood lingering at your skin.

“You tried…” he whispered, speaking taunts into your ears as you quivered. “But it wasn't enough.”

For a moment, you believed it because you genuinely felt all that hope wither. Right there, you wished to let your mind fade into a numb fade.

Because it was over.

As if he heard your own despondency, he leaned in to seal the promise. Taehyun tried to lift himself but Riki placed a spiteful foot over his sore ribs, making him fall limp again.

Some horrific part of you didn't fight. It gave in under the weight of his violence and your own failure. You were suffocating under the rubble. Jungwon relished it.

Just as his fangs glinted, a sudden explosion rang outside the labs, smoke fogging the air, footsteps and loud voices yelling in routine and commands. The impact of it shook the vampires, some stumbling. Jungwon lurched away from you, snapping his gaze along with the others to the hallway.

Confused yourself, you squinted to see soldiers swarm in through the smoke, yelling orders, guns raised at the vampires, who all spared a knowing glance to each other.

Jungwon clicked his tongue, but it was absent of amusement. The other vampires shifted and that stillness collapsed within a second. Bullets went flying, the vampires began their dance of defence and you threw yourself next to a heaving Taehyun clutching his aching ribs on the floor.

“You plan this?” He sputtered breathlessly.

“No.” You shook your head, helping him crawl to where the other scientists ducked behind the counters. Blood quickly stained the air, screams tore through the lab.

It took everything in you not to turn and look at Chaewon and Soobin bathed in their own blood. Instead, you faced the others. “W-we need to get to the roof.”

Namjoon gulped hard, taking charge as he pointed to the exit on the far side of the room. The emergency exit glowed a hopeful and guiding green, making everyone stumble over their knees in a frenzy.

You went last. It may be because you created the plan, the one that just failed. To make up for the loss, you needed to make sure that everyone made it out of this icy ocean without drowning anymore. That blunt determination sharpened into a blade, ready to carve out another escape.

Just as you followed, an armoured soldier collided onto the floor beside you, gun clattering away as you flinched. Jay stormed over, clutching the man in the throat and you didn't look. The crack was enough to know what fate he had met. Frantic, you hoisted yourself up by the wall only for a sharp grasp to dig into your calf like a trap meant for you.

You cried out as Jay tugged you back and sent you stumbling to your knees. Those crimson eyes glowed with a new, wildfire of anger, and your heartbeat slammed so hard, that your ribs barely held it in.

The gun laid there among the chaos, and you saw the chance woven in it. With a hasty swipe, and with zero knowledge of how to use one, you flipped onto your back, held the large gun and tried to mimic what you had seen before, and let the bullet fly.

The ricochet was outstanding: it felt like the gun forced you deeper into the cold floor, but it didn't matter now. You shot Jay in the torso, and a muted crimson flowed over his shirt.

Jay growled, limbs trembling in shock and anger, mixing together dangerously. His hands curled over the spot, almost weighed by pain and uncertainty.

There was no time to dwell. You lifted yourself with the gun and ran to the exit where Namjoon was holding the door open with urgency.

“Let's go!” He yelled as he slammed the door shut behind you. Together, you ran down the hallway to the stairwell where the others had already travelled up a few flights, footsteps chaotic and hurried.

You took the first few steps, and then, the familiar metallic roar crushed the sounds of gunshots, as if it was declaring its new quest to satisfy its hunger. You didn't need to look back to know that Jungwon was mad and now, only death awaited you.

The door below smashed open, and four pairs of footsteps marched up the stairs.

“Get her the fuck back to me!” Jungwon barked at them over the screech of his weapon before he took the stairs two at a time. From below, he saw you rushing up with that other man, and he snapped.

He moved like a shadow, so smooth and effortlessly, that you didn't even know when he was inches behind with Sunoo, Heeseung, and Sunghoon, rage spiralling in him like a blitz of bombs.

You pushed yourself, climbing for dear life when Jungwon smashed the moving blade where your foot was supposed to be, but you saved yourself by a few centimetres, torso tumbling onto the stairs with a grunt from the sheer terror weighing your chest like iron.

Shit. Too close. Way too close.

“Once you're mine, I'll torture you with the same monstrosity you fear” Jungwon declared as you stumbled up. He swung the chainsaw back, readying another blow.

In that moment, everything flashed before your eyes, your chest felt shot with an invisible blade of fear as Jungwon began to swing it down again. You should've moved. But adrenaline wasn't on your side in the slightest.

Before he could make contact, Namjoon yelled, and hurled his body atop Jungwon until it was a blend of bodies falling down the sharp edges of the stairs. Jungwon briefly dropped his chainsaw. The other vampires stared in brief alarm, but the violence bled in once more as they stiffened.

“Dr. Kim!” You yelled but he shook his head through his pained groans, trying to lift his torso. He met your gaze for whatever short moment, letting you know with that silent but soft gaze that he believed in you. But he wasn't going to be there with you. Your breaths were shaky, another deep crevice rupturing your hope, but you had to do this.

For him. For everyone.

You ran up the stairs again, gun lodged between your hip and arm, lungs contracting sharply as if it would give way to your panic. A pained yell ached from the floor you left Namjoon on, and you had to bury it all down.

Then, the inevitable sound of mechanical whirring and fluttering metal wings caught back all that optimism in a net. The sound nearly popped your eardrums, suffusing into your brain like a signal you were desperate to reach. Ignoring the anxiety, you climbed the stairs, towards the rooftop.

Along with the helicopter, Jungwon's weapon roared closer again, and you internally groaned. He was crazily persistent. Damn him and his vampire tendencies. His stamina was damn well strong as a stone wall.

“Y/n!” He bellowed again from below, slithering up the steps with Sunghoon, steps thumping violently. It only fueled your steps as you ignored the fatigue sinking into your legs, and climbed the stairs.

Suddenly, Sunghoon took three at a time and yanked the back of your shirt, making you cry out again. With a sharp twist, you struck the gun to his face with force, watching him grunt loudly and lose his step on the stairs. Sunghoon fell with the gun, limbs fighting the pain as he tried to lift himself once hitting the last one, limbs slightly trembling.

It didn't matter anymore because Jungwon was his follow up, and that was enough to charge your sprint up the stairs.

The rooftop was so close, so damn close—

A hand clamped down on your ankle and you cried out again to see Jungwon being responsible with his chainsaw in the other. Both you and him were panting slightly, gaze meeting in an icy battle of wills.

“You're not getting away,” he uttered so darkly, the shadows now tainting his tongue. Swallowing hard, you tried to tug back your leg but his hand was a chain. Anxiety plunged into your stomach.

“Even if I don't… the others will.” You met his gaze again, voice breathy with exhaustion, sweat arising on the crown of your head. The chainsaw came to a stop for a moment, hand still hovering by the switch.

“Such confidence…” he purred, deepening his gaze to yours. But to you, it wasn't just confidence. After thinking about this in your mini marathon up the stairs, you were glad that the others were up there, safe in the skies rather than in the bloodshed down here. It wasn't just confidence, but also courage. Something that didn't break despite all the hits and literal bites. So, this asshole wasn't going to stop you now.

“I'm glad you admit it.” You launched your right foot at his throat, relishing in the agonised grunt as he fell and tumbled down the stairs again, chainsaw fumbling down in a rocky manner. Wasting no time, you lifted yourself before Jungwon could get up.

But then what? It would only be a matter of time before he got onto the roof and made sure he saw the end of his plan. In your pocket, you felt the jostle of the antivenom safely enclosed in the syringe as you ran. All your thoughts worked overtime, entangling into a huge web of thoughts.

Jungwon was too strong to overpower, let alone injecting him in the neck. As you reached the doorway to the rooftop, the whirr of the helicopter washed over you in frequent waves. Safety was there.

Shaky, you took out the syringe of blue, staring in contemplation, in conflict. He always managed to predict your moves. This time, you're going to outsmart him.

No matter what.

Footsteps approached again. Jungwon was done. His patience had run dry. There was nothing there to ease the igniting rage sparking inside him and setting his nerves alight.

He had to admire your endless attempts at beating him but alas, he was faster, smarter, and undeniably built for the hunt. You just happened to be the most challenging.

The chainsaw was a hassle. He left it and flew up the remaining steps to see you at the doorway, breathless and thinking. When you heard his footsteps, you staggered outside, wind carding through your hair, the helicopter's light shining down randomly. And whilst the first one went away, the second remained with Taehyun helping Moka up.

You had to distract Jungwon long enough for Taehyun to go on the clumsy ladder too.

So, with a quivering breath, you turned only for him to backhand you so hard that your knees lost balance to the ground. Groaning, you touched your cheek, and met the evil shadowing over you. Jungwon, in all the mess, stood there with blonde locks swaying wildly in the wind, eyes a crimson river of stolen blood, and a frown lingering in anger.

Even then, you told yourself this was going to plan. Maybe, you're not so scared anymore.

“You know…” he began above the mechanical flutters, lowering his knees to either side of you. “You have agitated me. A lot.”

Trying to crawl away, he stopped you with a harsh hand handling your jaw, pinning you back onto the roof ground. It was tight, and you had to fight all your anxiety bubbling in your blood. Your shaky hands enclosed his wrist but it didn't stop him.

“But, I have to admire your spirit,” he uttered, leaning over you like a menacing storm brewing in the sky. He smirked a little, tightening the grip on your throat until your pulse rampaged in alarm, eyes shutting in a way to cope.

“I have never met a human like you. So… persistent, so eager to win over me,” he said with a breathless chuckle, as if he couldn't believe he could be bested by someone so human. Your body twitched in alarm and the lack of air.

“But guess what?” Jungwon released your neck, making you gasp for air, chest heaving only for his lips to personally graze your ear. “You can't win. You can't avoid me. And now, I will take the greatest pleasure of turning you. As I promised.”

Strangely enough, your struggles faded and mellowed, and Jungwon smirked against your neck. He won.

Wasting no time, he sunk his fangs in, drinking in the exhausted whimper and the blood for a few seconds, remembering why he was so addicted. It fueled him. Not just the blood—but the power he had proven once again, using it against you and caging you in it.

Once satisfied with the feed, he let the venom slip into your skin, falling away into your blood like a curse to seize your body before pulling away. Except, it was strange.

Instead of tears, like he had expected, you stared knowingly, as if you had locked something away from him. It was unusual. He was never locked away from anything but there you were, limp, but with a gaze of stone.

Quirking an eyebrow, Jungwon met your unyielding gaze. “What is with your stare?”

A breathless chuckle left your lips, almost pained in the deeper layers, but it confused him.

“Are you… sure y-you still won…?” You croaked but he heard it. That bewildered him even more.

“What?”

With a trembling hand, you had secretly retrieved something from your pocket and held it before him. A syringe. An empty syringe. For the first time, iciness glazed over him and you loved the chill in all that smugness.

“Do you know… what was in here…?” You uttered through the layers of agony storming in your body. It hurt so much. It did. Your blood felt like fire, every breath was breaking, convulsing in panic when it left your lungs.

“What the fuck did you do—?”

“It was an antivenom.” You faced his rocky gaze, the crimson on them remaining but you saw the scepticism. And maybe a drop of apprehension. Something so foreign on his features but you loved every bit of it. “And I put it in my blood.”

Jungwon screwed his eyes shut for a moment then snapped them open, staring down at your skin losing colour the more the seconds went by, hands fueled with unhinged tremors. You weren't bluffing. In disbelief, he leaned closer.

“You stupid human, you just killed yourself,” he murmured, blinking profusely as if his thoughts were struggling to process that fact. A hard pill to swallow.

At his comment, you forced your eyes open and lifted your lips into a derisive smile, mirroring what he had done to you. “I know. But guess what?”

You lifted your head to pin his incredulous gaze. “You just killed yourself, too.”

Then, Jungwon felt it. A trail of fire igniting in his veins, his throat until he had the urge to claw out his own neck just for a moment of respite, and his limbs were being threaded with fatigue and pain blended into one. As if the antivenom had created a new fabric of him, and this one was terribly weaker.

Doubling over slightly, you took the chance to stare at the helicopter and the lights travelling on the roof, almost imagining yourself on one of them. But if your fate ended here, then so be it. You did what you wanted. You just weren't going to be a part of the new picture.

And that was fine.

As your eyelids fell heavy, a brown blob of hair appeared above you in a hasty second, pushing off Jungwon and instantly hauling you into his arms.

“—Y/n? Can you hear me?!” Taehyun yelled all while he steadied you on your noodle feet, one of your arms thrown around his nape. He moved forward, panting and you ripped away the exhaustion to spot the limp ladder that hung off the helicopter.

“Climb. Please, climb. You can rest after!” He held your waist and helped you to grip the first bar.

He was trying to save you. Even after you messed up so many times. You wanted to thank him, but your throat felt like it was drying with just a breath. For now, you took a trembling step up, and Taehyun did so after until he stood with you on the bar below, arms caging you to whatever futile safety he could.

As soon as he shouted up, the helicopter ascended, the mechanical flutters changing tune as you swayed, watching the vehicle approach the edge of the rooftop.

You never thought you would miss trees, the smell of grass and the polluted night air, but breathing it in with whatever cells were surviving, you didn't want another memory. Shakily breathing, you thought you had reached the air of safety until the ladder aggressively lurched and jostled below.

Letting out a disgruntled sound, you and Taehyun glanced below to see a manic Jungwon, veins black and visible on his neck and jaw, blonde hair a mess and his eyes were arrows that found yours in a perfect target.

“Fuck.” You murmured to no one but yourself. Taehyun had the same exact thought and tensed with you. It didn't stop Jungwon as he fought through every painful grit in his joints and climbed as the helicopter floated above the expanse of forest down below.

Danger and pure hunger bled into his eyes as he climbed up one more and snagged Taehyun by the foot, tugging. He screamed, catching the attention of the soldiers safely inside the flying vehicle.

“You can't escape me,” Jungwon snarled, making your eyes meet his and a shiver crossed your spine as you gripped Taehyun. Every kick to Jungwon's hand added to the fire, and he climbed up one more step, gripping yours instead.

It was enough for your knees to buckle and falter and your heart dropped as the forest below became a height striking fear at your heart. You grunted, trying to tug your ankle back but Jungwon's anger washed over him and he pulled until you lost all grip on the ladder. You shrieked and Taehyun's exasperated protest filled the whirring air, and within a tense second, he snatched your wrist with everything he had, even if he bruised you.

You were dangling.

You couldn't think. Everything was too loud, your neck ached, and your body shook under the effects of the antivenom. Despite all that, you managed to look at Taehyun, vision blurring but with desperation, your other hand weakly holding his.

“Don't… don't let go,” he said, and you groaned quietly when Jungwon tugged your leg again, practically making you sway from Taehyun's hand. One wrong slip and you would fall to your death.

And you didn't want that. Maybe you want to live. To return to your father who was probably drowning with worry and sorrow. Your mother was gone. But you—you couldn't let yourself become lost like her.

The helicopter whirred, radios buzzed but you ignored them and focused on the vampire clawing at your leg. Gathering all the little specks of your strength, you kicked at his hand, scraping your shoes at his knuckles until he grunted.

Another snarl left him at your audacity and he tilted his head back, breathing heavily, obviously fighting the antivenom in his own way. Even then, he met your gaze as you launched your foot again and again at his hand, the wind making it hard to concentrate. When you met his crimson ones, he purposely held it.

“You may have won for now. But, I promise you that I will return. It takes more to kill a vampire,” he said with a promise weaving in his gaze, a present that you never wanted. Despite your disgust, he managed to smirk before a bullet shot through the air and sliced into Jungwon's chest.

The impact sent him jolting, your ankle freed as he let go and the next thing you knew, Jungwon was diving towards the trees and he disappeared into the darkness.

He was gone. You hoped death had made his body a home to settle its roots into.

Taehyun held you strong, muscles straining as the officers began to haul the ladder in until the wind stopped striking you, and until you tumbled into the helicopter's interior.

All your thoughts intertwined and tangled into knots, something you were unable to decipher. The antivenom was quick to render you a simple trembling body.

Panicked, Taehyun cradled you to his chest, removing the hair from your colourless face. “We've done it… you did it.”

Hearing those words over the silent agony drowning you still sent relief, a quick balm to a crumbling wound.

The plan actually worked. You couldn't even think past that. And so, with that in mind, you finally gave into the familiar darkness.

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

Everything was so still. Soft, even. The rhythmic beeps rung through your ears, head suspended on something plush and you felt light. All that stress? It felt like it had been lifted off you, the anchor had been broken. You were free of it.

The darkness was nice for a while. No vampires, no death, just a void your body floated within and nothing could hurt you here. Except, after a while, you realised that there was more than that.

The last thing you remembered was Taehyun. How he saved you from dying—

You weren't dead. and that was surprising.

Peeling open your eyes, the darkness splintered away to a warm light and tinges of antiseptic pinching your nose. Your breaths felt mechanical, loud and supported.

The room you were in was plain, machines set up with glowing lines aligning with your heartbeat, each exhale fogging up the plastic latched over your mouth and nose, and tubes connecting to a blood supply. Taehyun sat with a hung head, mouth sunk into his knuckles.

You twitched at the familiar sight of the hospital. Not Facility 007. But it was actually somewhere with civilization. The relief bloomed in your chest like a fresh batch of flowers. You were safe.

At your fluttering eyes, Taehyun pounced onto his feet and to your side, hands hovering like he didn't know what to do with you. It was quite adorable if you thought about it.

“Gosh, Y/n, you're awake. I'm so glad. I thought you…” he didn't finish that despondent sentence and instead focused on your drooping eyes stitched with fatigue. He didn't care. He just wanted to see the light in your eyes again.

Along with that, he saw the questions simmering in your silence. So, he sat down once he rolled the chair over, wondering where to pick up from. He steepled his fingers. “So… you passed out.”

That was obvious. You quirked an eyebrow and Taehyun sighed before fiddling with the blanket draped over you.

“I thought you didn't have a pulse. But you didn't. The helicopter landed straight at the hospital. And you know, we had to drain both the venom and antivenom out,” he started to say, somewhat stuck in the throes of the memory. It sounded like a nightmare and you felt like a nightmare.

“I mean, some of the venom was probably killed because you had the antivenom neutralising it. But the doctors suggested that whilst they took out the bad blood, they would transfuse blood in,” he added on with a hopeful smile.

Of course. You were nearly turned but the antivenom put a stop to the effects before it could fully invade your body, but the only problem would be saving your healthy cells. And what better way to do it than pumping the antivenom out before it eradicated everything. Despite all that realisation, the doubt lingered.

What if all the venom wasn't neutralised? What if the antivenom had killed enough cells? You suppose you would have been dead rather than locked to a bed and a breathing mask.

Taehyun sensed the enquiries and pursed his lips in contemplation.

“I know what you're thinking. Considering you're not gone, I think you will be okay. But, the venom? I hope that most of it will be drained. If anything remains, you would know,” he said again, not helping the doubt lessen. Your brows creased slightly.

“Its not the most encouraging thing. So yes, even after this, you may feel… weak from recovery. But also, if you do feel weird, we can just give you a new antivenom,” he said, trying to dull down that buzzing thought.

“They're creating a new one. More effective and safe,” he said softly, easing you into the idea, the possibility that you would have to be injected with the very thing that put you into a hospital bed. But it was also the very thing that had slain Jungwon.

You don't know about the others.

Shifting in his seat, he met your gaze with wide, hopeful eyes. “And, don't worry about the bitten ones. They're also being treated.”

At that, you blinked slowly, trying to relish the information and keep it close to you like a small flicker in the cold. Soobin, Chaewon, and your mother had died. And so many more officers and workers. The least you could do or hear was the fact that others had also been rescued from the vampires, and themselves.

He smiled at the sparkle in your eye. “Your dad is on the way.” Then, his smile faltered in a fleeting moment but you caught it, staring hard until he noticed. Sheepish, he rubbed his nape.

“The vampires. Some were found. Jay, Riki, Jake, and Sunoo were found.” He dropped his gaze solemnly. You didn't like that one bit, and your stomach coiled.

“The other three are missing.”

The other three being Jungwon, Sunghoon and Heeseung. Fuck. Oh gosh. The universe wanted you to suffer. Your body twitched slightly, as if it had a verbal allergic reaction to their names being in the same implication of ‘missing’. Because it meant that Jungwon and his older brothers would probably fight for their way back to power, control. They want that throne and they would take it and, since you fought them, gone against them, they would use you for the ground.

The heart rate monitor picked up and Taehyun gently rubbed your wrist, careful of the tape slapped on it. It was all he could do.

“Hey, hey, don't panic. The antivenom we made? It's going to be mass produced. So, you don't need to worry about the city being in danger. Public places will have them. And, they won't find you,” he said with a lulling tone, soothing you like you knew nothing more than anxiety born in your skin. “You don't need to worry.”

He said that now but what would happen if you had walked upon Jungwon again? Would he stare? Would he just attack?

Since you outsmarted him, he took that as a full offence, a true sign of your unwillingness to be under his words, of your stubbornness. Now, you feel that if they don't catch him soon, he will drag you by the feet and back into the hole of Hell he crawled from in the first place.

The monitor fluttered again, making Taehyun tut. “Y/n. Stop panicking.”

He rubbed your forearm until you took a heavy inhale and melted into the pillows again, wanting your mind constricted from the future worries. He smiled, and that's when the door opened and your father appeared, lines of worry sketched into his skin. Upon seeing you, his shoulders sagged and he rushed over, hand brushing away the hair messy on your head.

Careful, as if you were glass that had cracks on every corner. You glanced, blinking slowly as you were actually taking him in, your only parent as of now.

“Gosh, Y/n…” he whispered, broken and solemn. As much as you saw his relief, he was also mourning your mother. He didn't even get to hold her one last time, to even speak to her. You were the only fragment of her he had left.

Simply thinking of her broke down everything you held back. The emotions, the tears released like a damn rotting until it had no choice. Your breaths became shallow, eyes shutting to refrain from the waterworks but it was too late, and the beeps increased.

Your dad stroked back your hair, trapping his own tears away and wiped yours instead. As if it was the only thing he could do for you. Understandably so. You had been gone for a week. You hadn't seen him for a week. It only made it feel more real that you had returned to safety, to humanity. That maybe the venom had been drained away and never to be seen again.

All you could do was lay there and take the silence as a friend rather than a space that would simmer with anticipation. With an unknown promise of violence.

You were okay.

۶ৎ───────────────۶ৎ

TWO MONTHS.

Two months passed since you were in the hospital, given time for recovery, for your body to be normal and void of any symptoms, for you finally feel like your skin was yours to wear and wasn't tainted with blood.

Of course, the bite marks scarred deeply, two red marks deep in your skin, engraving it with a terrible memory. Hiding it was your only solution. Turtle necks and contour helped.

All the scientists that died in the Facility had a personal and intimate funeral gathering. They were all buried with one another, a reserved space that held a deeper meaning, a memory of people who served science and people.

Of course, your mother's body was laid in a coffin, but you didn't look at her face once. If the vampires sucked the blood out of her, it would be the last thing you would want to remember. She probably had looked like a shard of herself—cracked and broken into something unrecognisable.

For now, your father moved you from that part of the city and to somewhere more dense, safe, full of people so you could feel whole again. The apartment was small but big enough for you and your father. Three bedrooms, one would be an office, a modest kitchen and a table built into the wall, and a lounge where the wide windows displayed the city's starlight in the night.

He didn't want you to return to a home still lingering with your mother's presence so he physically distanced it. There was no argument there. Not when he was clearly affected by grief and remorse. Protection, too.

Over you.

As for Taehyun, he still lived nearby and his name appeared on your phone more times than you thought it would. And your heart skipped more times than scheduled but you never confronted it. You let it react in secret.

Since the antivenom had been made and distributed, all the credit came to you and the scientists that escaped. It was a little weird to see how indebted the government was to you, but if it meant having some alone time with paid money, then you saw no problem.

Besides, if you went back to a lab, you might throw up. Even thinking of the sterile environment shoved you back into a memory where the lights flickered and the blood rose from the ground like vines, and clung to your nose. As if it was a reminder that the vampires had changed your life and they were still out there.

Therapy was helpful. The blood and mental care therapy.

You had weekly sessions but honestly, you had nothing to say when the nightmares kind of faded and tucked itself into the folds of your mind and ached like a constant wound you tried to treat.

Like today. You were quiet again, staring at the windows for half of it. Your therapist, also known as Yunjin, sat there with burning eyes.

“You're quiet. Are you sure you don't want to add anything else? Anything at all?” She asked softly when you didn't look away. As if you had been searching for something. Waiting.

Then, you shook your head. “No. Is the session over?”

She gave a tight smile and nodded. “Of course. You can go. I'll see you next week, Y/n.”

The city was a gentle thrum of conversation, snow raining down and pecking your skin with a cold pinch. The evening sky was lit by fairy lights on random buildings and faded when you got into the apartment complex.

Shaking off your nerves, the elevator opened and soon, you were inside your new home where the kitchen thrived with activity and something akin to… tomato?

The door shutting behind you alerted your father as he shuffled out and smiled in relief.

“You're here. Finally. How was the session?” He asked as you took your coat off and hung it on the hook.

“Good. Normal.” You hummed, shrugging at him as you flipped your winter boots off. Then, you kissed his cheek. “Cooking?”

“Of course. No more fast food,” he said with a teasing smile that warmed your heart all the same. Returning the gratitude, you padded past him to your bedroom.

“I'll wash up.”

“Okay,” he called back. Entering your bedroom, you shut the door again and climbed onto your bed, to the window. You should wash up. Really.

But your heart tugged towards the window, as if it knew something you didn't. You couldn't even find the reason, the ends of the ribbon to unwrap whatever your body was finding.

Scanning over the rooftops, you sighed and dragged your hands down your face. Why couldn't you relax?

You suppose you should say that to Yunjin and let her dissect it with you, but something was sunk deep in your uncertainty. It wasn't exactly a feeling. Just words.

Jungwon's promise. His vow before he fell to the forest two months ago.

“You can't escape me.”

“You may have won for now. But, I promise you that I will return. It takes more to kill a vampire.”

He was so sure for someone that had consumed the antivenom. It annoyed you to no end.

But each time you had a feeling of doubt, your therapist told you to feel the environment, the warmth, and to ground yourself to where you actually were. You had to force your mind to move out the memory, no matter how frozen it felt, and tackle it back into your bedroom, to the present.

You closed your eyes, clenched your shirt and breathed. Then, you opened them, as if your heart could actually breathe and then, you glanced out the window to remind yourself you're in a new home, new starlight.

The lights were tiny, blinking, and the rooftops were dark and absent with people.

Except one.

There was a figure in the distance, the silhouette still and you couldn't tell if he was facing forward or backwards. From the build and short hair, it looked like a man. And he stood there without layers.

Squinting to get a better look past the lace curtains, the dude turned and then it pinned you. You froze.

Okay, well there were completely normal explanations for this. Maybe he was looking at the building, maybe he needed fresh air. It is normal.

You didn't look away because something in you pinched at your heart, like it was responding to the stare. The dude didn't look away either, as if he knew your figure was hidden by the flimsy netting.

Then, you saw the crimson tinge and it was gone within a second before you flinched away, breaking out of it. Just like that, your mind planted itself back in the same memory of the labs, of Jungwon. Breathless, you got off the bed, plopping onto the floor with a heaving chest, panic seizing your ribs like it personally was thwacking you with bricks.

Blood. The chainsaw motor.

It blared in your mind. It called to you, as if to remind you that you were still bound to those deaths and series of events. ‘Called’ was gentle. No. The memory of everything forced a stiff weight in your nape, almost like you had to constrict yourself into a small, breathless state.

You hugged yourself, closing into a box until your thoughts simmered down, until your lungs loosened and the knots unfastened to let your lungs breathe.

With a sharp intake of breath, you opened your eyes and the sounds of sizzling returned, the aroma of tomato paste replacing the scent of blood.

The walls of your dull bedroom came into view, and you shakily stood. This time, when you looked at the window, you pulled the curtains shut and didn't move, as if holding them shut without moving would make your quivering gaze strong enough to lock the night skyline away.

Because this was your home. This was safety. Two months ago was a fever dream.

And you weren't there anymore.

You sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing your trousers, chanting your words internally.

You escaped Facility 007.

It didn't exist anymore so neither does your anxiety.

And for some reason, you didn't believe that you left Facility 007 behind.

Maybe, it followed you.

۶ৎ─── ۶ৎ───۶ৎ─── ۶ৎ───۶ৎ─── ۶ৎ───۶ৎ───

— ִֶָ࣪☾. [𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒] : I felt like dying. I am not that satisfied, but I literally felt like if i kept it in my drafts, I might defenestrate myself and my phone lmao! But, hopefully, you guys liked it. idk if you guys want a part 3, or if i want that. But give me ALL your feedback. and i also appreciate the asks and enthusiasm. you guys are so cute <3 but i will probably be working on a diff fic for now. I love this fic but my writing felt stagnant sometimes. Anyway, thank you for reading. Also, I also did not make it a romance just because I dont think she would fall for someone that killed a bunch of people.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ REBLOGS, LIKES+ COMMENTS are appreciated<3

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w0rm3y · 2 days ago

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Malevolence In Spring- R. Sukuna

TAGS: Hades!Sukuna x Persephone!Reader, arranged marriage, forced proximity, kidnapping, True Form!Sukuna, Husband!Sukuna

OVERALL WARNINGS: MDNI, extreme violence, graphic depictions of death, blood, body horror, physical torture, psychological torture, Stockholm Syndrome, Lima Syndrome, manipulation, toxicity, cannibalism, suicide, blood kink, spit kink, breeding kink, biting kink, size kink, monster-fucking (That man is a monster, like actually), S&M, marking, stomach/belly bulges THIS CHAPTER: violence, angst, depression, mentions of death/suicide, torture, blood, body horror, guys fr, body horror and torture. please note: body horror and torture, it's toward the end

WORD COUNT: 4.8k, loosely edited, but I'll edit when I read it over later

SUMMARY: you were taken from your home and forced to become Sukuna's wife.

|| MIS M.List || > PITIFUL > NEUTRALITY; oudeterótita; ουδετερότητα

Assuming an utterly emotionless state was the best decision you’d made since entering the shrine. Once you realized there was nothing for you here, wasting away until your death didn’t seem too terrible. However, the constant nagging of your handmaiden made your slow death even more miserable. It had been a couple of weeks, and you assumed she would have given up by now.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything, my queen? I have a variety of teas, fruits, even sweets–whatever you want, I just need you to consume something,” Hatsuyo implored, nearly begging at your bedside.

You didn’t answer her.

“I heard it’s supposed to be a long winter, my queen. Are you sure you wouldn’t like more blankets? Warmer clothing? A hot bath–a hot meal, even? Your skin is so cold.”

You didn’t answer her then, either.

“Can I at least clean you? Brush your hair? Change the bedding?”

Your mouth remained closed. No matter how many different ways she asked if she could take care of you, you stayed silent. Day after day, week after week–you didn’t know why your body hadn’t given up yet. More importantly, why hadn’t Hatsuyo given up yet? You reached a point where you couldn’t even find it in yourself to care if you were torturing the poor girl. You were too exhausted to care about anything.

One morning, after you finally managed to drift off to sleep, you were interrupted when your bedroom door abruptly opened. Assuming it was Hatsuyo, you closed your eyes to enter your comatose state once more, only to find out that Hatsutyo wasn’t the one in the room with you. Usually, when your handmaiden entered the room, the atmosphere would shift into something warm. Truthfully, you believed that was the reason you hadn’t frozen to death yet.

But that morning, when the warmth didn’t come, you had an eerie feeling creeping up your spine. You knew the wintery shift wasn’t that of Sukuna, this was someone different, someone a little less dark than him, and less… deadly? But, if not Sukuna, who was it?

Your body locked up when you felt a cool finger brush against the sole of your exposed foot, trailing up your ankle, stopping midway up your calf.

“If you keep slipping into the afterlife, my queen, I’ll have to assume that’s where you’d like to be.” Their voice was melodious, almost. Soft and pleasant. “I’ve had to bring you back six times over the course of this month.”

Six times? You’ve died six times?

“Let me go then. I wish to die.” You found yourself croaking, throat raw and itchy from being silent for so long. The unknown person chuckled, moving from your side of the bed to the other.

Your blurry vision couldn’t pick up much, but you could see just how monochromatic this person was. Stark white hair, cut short into a bob, porcelain white skin that matched their white monk robe. The only contrast you could see was their purple-tinted eyes. You blinked more, honing in your sight on their striking features, recalling that you’d seen this person before.

“You’re Uraume, right?”

With a curt nod, they muttered, “Indeed.”

Another ally of Sukuna’s, it’s no wonder they aren’t allowing you to die.

“Where’s Hatsuyo?”

Their face remained stoic and unreadable as they responded with, “After I brought you back the fifth time, Sukuna removed that handmaiden from your service. Until one worthy enough to keep you alive comes along, I’m afraid you’ll have to deal with me.”

For the first time in a month, you felt yourself caring about something. Your stomach dropped, and had you not been severely dehydrated, you might’ve cried.

“Is she… dead?”

Still emotionless, Uraume replied, “I do not know, my queen. However, the quickest way to receive the answers you seek is to get up and ask Sukuna yourself.”

Your bottom lip trembled, throat closing in with thick emotion. “I do not want to see Sukuna. H-He’s a monster.”

Their hand rested on the side of your face. “I won’t disagree with you. Sukuna can be cruel, but he can be neutral just the same.”

“Neutral?” you scoffed, rolling away from their touch. “He can take his neutrality and shove it up his ass.”

Uraume snickered, “I’ll pass along the message.”

“Please do,” you hissed, tossing the thick blankets off your body.

“As soon as he returns from the eastern river village.”

Your gaze settled on the ally again. “The eastern village?”

“Yes. He’s leaving in the morning to deliver the firewood that’s been promised. He should be back within a few weeks, so if you’d like to get up and explore without the threat of running into him, you’d best do it then.”

You huffed and rolled away from them. “No thanks. I’d like to continue rotting.”

“Suit yourself. But you will eat something, drink something, bathe, and change your clothes, as well as the sheets. It smells like a decaying corpse in here, and I’ll tolerate it no longer. Truthfully, I assumed your mother would’ve passed down her strength, but I can see I’ve been sorely mistaken.”

The mention of your mother pulled you away from your pity party in seconds.

“You know my mother?”

“Of course, I do. Strong goddess, she is.”

“Have you spoken recently?”

They shook their head. “Not since last winter, but I wouldn’t mind passing along a letter or two when I make my yearly trip to the surface. Is that something you’d like?”

You eagerly nodded your head, sitting up and shifting closer to Uramue. “Very much so-”

“Then you’ll stop moping and wishing to rot away. Your mother would be disappointed to see how quickly you’ve wilted. Eat, drink, bathe, and change–I’ll fetch some paper and ink.”

With those being their parting words, they retreated from the room, and in their place, a different servant entered with a tray of fruits and vegetables, a pitcher of water, and a new set of bedding.

Something inside of you told you that if you didn’t finish what was on the tray, by the time Uraume made it back with the paper and ink, they wouldn’t allow you to write those letters anymore. So, without wasting time, you began devouring the food in front of you, not realizing just how hungry you really were until the last thing that stared back at you on the plate was a perfectly ripened pomegranate.

Since it was your favorite, you saved it for last, knowing that it would be that much sweeter if you waited until it was the only thing left. However, just as you started peeling it apart, you stopped.

Perhaps saving it for last wasn’t the best idea–you realized that you’d eaten until your heart’s content and were now full. Forcing yourself to eat the pomegranate now would be a waste; you’d rather savor it for all that it was worth because who knows when you’d get to taste another.

You placed it back down on the tray and set it aside on the bedside table before grabbing the old bedding, stripping it away to add the fresh layer. Just before you could finish smoothing out the wrinkles, there was a harsh knock against your chamber doors. With excitement, you disregarded the bedding and rushed to your door in hopes that Uraume was back, and that they’d brought you a lot of paper and ink. You had so much that you wanted to tell your mother.

Shocking, as you pulled the door open, you found that it was not Uraume who stood behind it, but rather a beautiful, tall woman with long, silky black hair. Her dark green wrap draped over her perfectly, and you found yourself growing a bit jealous of her looks. You glanced up at the woman who regarded you with a nasty sneer.

“The king has requested your presence in the bath house,” she hissed before turning on her heel, retreating back down the corridor. “Follow me if you do not know the way.”

The woman wasn’t giving you much of an option to decline. So, hesitantly, you followed after her, but stopped a few paces outside your chamber doors, gasping, “My blindfold-”

“Don’t bother. You’ll be bathing, just keep your head down.”

You swallowed thickly, feeling a bit nervous since Sukuna had threatened to carve out your eyes for not wearing your blindfold, but if he sent this woman to fetch you, surely, he would’ve told her to make sure you grabbed something so crucial, right?

Right?

“Are you my new handmaiden?” you asked, looking up at her. She grimaced, glaring back at you with a deep, seething scowl.

“I am not a handmaiden.”

You retracted, flinching away from the animosity dripping from her voice. “Oh, I apologize if I offended you-”

“Do not apologize, my… queen.”

Her disdain toward you was quite obvious, yet you’ve only just met the woman.

“What is your name? Your status? Why are you here in my shrine?”

A humorless chuckle tumbled past her lips. “Your shrine?”

Oh, did it rub you the wrong way.

“I can’t say that I’m appreciating your tone right now, so unless we’re of the same rank-”

“The wife and royal mistress usually are, right?” she interrupted you, mouth twitching into a smirk. “At least in the king’s eyes.”

“Rank means everything to the king–he’s already killed for me, per my request, due to their lack of respect.”

Her smug grin never faltered. “Then he put that blindfold on you, didn’t he? You know, he allows me to look into his eyes.”

“If I cared about looking at my husband, I wouldn’t have accepted the blindfold in the first place.”

That was a lie, a big lie, and one you hoped this woman couldn’t see through.

You came to a stop in front of a double set of doors.

“Open them,” you commanded, to which she scoffed, rejecting you. “I could have you killed for disobeying me, you know?”

She laughed then, still unmoving out of spite. “If he kills me, who should warm his bed?”

You pretended to think it over before saying, “Probably another whore he could pull out of whatever swamp you’re from. Open. The Doors. Or I’ll retreat back to my room, and you can explain to our king why the presence he requested is missing.”

There were only two things you wanted at that point. The first being to get whatever your presence was requested for out of the way so you could move on to more important things. The second thing was the respect that this woman still owed you.

The longer you continued to stand there, staring at one another, the more antsy the woman became, until finally, she conceded and pushed the doors open. You didn’t utter a single thanks, not even a grateful glance as you brushed past her and into the steamy bath house. As soon as you crossed the threshold, you cast your head down to avoid his cruel eyes.

Your wavering confidence barely got you through the confrontation with the royal whore, there was no way you could keep it up enough to deal with Sukuna, too. He just had a knack for sucking the life right out of you without even lifting a finger.

When the doors slammed shut behind you, a silence enveloped the room. After a few moments, you deemed it safe to raise your head and navigate the new room. As much as you’d rather bathe in the comfort of your own room, that option wasn’t available to you right now.

With Uraume’s promise weighing heavily on your mind, you began stripping out of your clothing, using the thoughts of everything you were going to write to your mother as the driving force to continue.

Your fingers worked on unraveling your hair from its long braid, and in doing so, you noted the blushing hue it was beginning to take. Not enough to really be noticeable, and if it weren’t for the candlelight glinting off the strands, you wouldn’t have noticed at all. Perhaps you were seeing things, probably from the stress.

Sliding down to your knees, you peered into the giant bath, enjoying the steam that wafted up onto your face. Your chambers were freezing, no matter how many blankets were forced onto you. With your fingers and toes all but begging you to get into the warm water, you moved your legs out above the pool, dipping them in slightly before sliding all the way in. A relieved sigh escaped you as you allowed yourself to sink down far enough that your shoulders were submerged.

You didn’t realize how much you needed the warmth until then. You wondered how many times it was the cold that killed you rather than starvation or dehydration. You made a mental note to thank Uraume for keeping you alive, no matter if you had to live in this castle with the bane of your existence–if they had let you go, you wouldn’t have had the chance to experience this.

As soon as your face was covered by the water, you allowed yourself to sink to the bottom of the pool. Truthfully, you could die now, and you wouldn’t mind. However, after a minute of relishing the near-death you were teetering on the edge of, fate decided it was time for you to meet the surface again. But it was not you who pulled yourself off the pool floor. Instead, it was a thick hand, wrapped tightly around your bicep.

The first gulp of breath was nearly painful, leaving you lightheaded and a bit dizzy. You coughed, wheezing, but ultimately pleased with the lively feeling you were left with.

Until you were brutally reminded that you were no longer alone.

Your bare back crashed into a familiar-feeling wall, one that was padded with warm muscle, yet had the ability to exude such a chill.

“Don’t do that again.”

His voice slithered across the back of your neck, sending shivers over your entire body.

“I invited you to my bathhouse to bathe, not have a little pity party for yourself. Six times, woman–were you trying to make it seven?”

“O-Oh, I wasn’t-”

“No? I counted two and a half minutes that you were under the water. Were you trying to suffocate for fun?”

“No, my king-”

His hand brushed over your mouth, silencing you.

“If I have to hear from Uraume that you’ve died ever again, I won’t hesitate to kill you myself,” he whispered, too calm for such hateful words.

You recoiled from his grasp when you felt his lips graze over the shell of your ear, cold chills raking your skin in their wake. As his hand slipped away from your mouth, you found yourself asking, “Where’s Hatsuyo?”

“The useless handmaiden?”

You nodded stiffly, feeling your stomach twist as his term for her. Useless? Hatsuyo was not useless-

“Gone.”

“What do you mean, gone?”

I mean, she’s gone, no longer in this shrine. She was released to the hunting grounds yesterday morning, so if I had to guess, she’s probably melting in some curse’s stomach acid right about now.”

How he was able to speak about something so horrendous and stay calm was sickening.

“You bastard,” you cried quietly, much to his amusement.

“Don’t tell me you cared for the mortal,” he purred, slinking his arms around your bare torso. “She was a servant.”

“She was my friend!”

Your fingernails dug into the skin of his wrist, desperately trying to pry him away from you.

“Yes. She was–try your best to move past it. There are better things to waste your tears on than a lowly human who allowed you to sink into this… meager state.” His hands trailed up your waist, settling on your protruding ribcage. “I leave you alone for a couple of weeks, and you turn into nothing but a pile of sickly skin and bone. It’s pathetic.”

You pushed his hands away from you and moved out of his grasp, still keeping your back turned to him since you were without your blindfold.

“Do you think this meager state of mine might have something to do with my horrible environment and a malevolent man who claims to be my husband?”

He chuckled. “Careful, woman. You’re taken care of in this horrible environment. I provide you with food, shelter, clothing–anything you could want, and you still assume I’m malevolent?”

“You forced me out of my home and brought me here to treat me like an unwanted pet-”

He scoffed, “I want you. I would not have brought you here and made you my wife if I didn’t.”

“What a lovely way you have of showing it, you confusing man.” You brushed the tears from your cheeks. “Not that I wish to understand you–you’re too cruel a man for me to comprehend anyway. But it would be nice to know why it was me you chose to enslave. How could I be so unlucky? Why not marry your royal whore?”

Sukuna exhaled a laugh. “The royal whore is simply that–a whore. Yorozu isn’t fit to be my queen-”

“Yet you choose to lie with her.”

As those words tumbled out of your mouth, you realized your mistake and how your words could be taken incorrectly.

“I didn’t realize you were so envious of my bed whore,” he simpered, full of humor. “Is that what will quell these feelings you have? Lying with me?”

“Of course not. Who would want to lie with a monster like yourself?”

“I’ve been very kind to you thus far-”

You snorted at his blatant lie and swam away from him, not getting very far as he grabbed your arm, pulling you back to him, but this time, he twisted you around to face him. Your eyes locked with his chest as fear shot through you.

“Things can and will get worse for you if you continue with this ungrateful attitude.”

“Can they, Sukuna?” You asked, entirely sardonic. “I don’t even fear death anymore. At this point, I welcome it. The pain you could inflict won’t last forever, so do your worst.”

His hand held onto your jaw, lifting your head and forcing you to look at his face. Fierce ruby-colored eyes stared down at you, dancing around your face in search of insincerity. When he found none, his gaze hardened.

“Insolent brat,” he mumbled, lips falling into a flat line. His words hardly registered in your brain as you felt so captivated by his stare. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, but how could I deny my wife’s request? We can start tomorrow.”

A crease formed between your brows as you asked, “What about the river village in the east? You were going to take firewood to that woman-”

“No, I was going to take firewood to the entire village, but it seems my attention is required elsewhere until the foreseeable future.”

Your mouth fell open. “But they’ll freeze to death-”

He smiled, eyes crinkling with such cruelty. “Most likely. It’s supposed to be a long winter after all. Maybe they should take a page from their queen’s book and welcome death. It’s inevitable for them anyway. What’s the sense in keeping fragile mortals warm when death is only a few paces away?”

“But you promised them–you killed that man-”

“No. You promised them.” A grin twisted onto his mouth as he continued, “As for that man, his death meant nothing to me. His offer was shit and, as I told him, fulfilling his request was only because his queen was so generous. It’s not my fault you decided to be selfish and order me to stay here. I’m sure the village will understand. After all, a queen’s order takes precedence over a few lowly mortals.”

It started to make sense for you then. This was another one of your punishments, one that he didn’t have to lay his hands on you for. Living with the guilt of an entire village freezing to death because you weren’t able to keep your mouth shut will haunt you for the rest of your life.

“Please, go to them,” you implored, moving closer to him. “Please, do not let them freeze–these people worship you, they rely on you-”

“And they’ll keep worshipping me even if I let them die. Want to know why? You’ve already said it–they rely on me. They have no choice but to have faith in me because they’re dead either way.”

You felt your lower lip tremble as a fresh onslaught of tears dripped down your cheeks.

“You’re horrible.”

He hummed with a small smile, giving the top of your head a patronizing pat. “Horrible and malevolent. Sounds like you hate me already.”

“I do hate you,” you growled, jerking away from his touch.

“You have no reason to hate me yet, woman. Fret not, soon, I will give you those reasons you’re so desperately searching for.”

And with that terrifying promise, he removed himself from the bathhouse, leaving you alone to process your thoughts. Your stomach clenched as you fought back the urge to vomit.

After calming down, your head was still reeling with fear.

You couldn’t do this anymore–you needed out.

So, with that conclusion in mind, you rushed to your chambers, bypassing the sheets of paper and ink that had been placed on your bedside table. Your fingers wrapped around the pomegranate that you left there and shoved it into a bag along with a change of clothes and something to keep you warm.

Within an hour, you were out of the shrine doors, rushing toward the gates. Your chest was on fire as you tried to gather as much air as you could to breathe properly. The pain was almost enough to have you give up, but with the gates now within your sight, you pushed forward.

You couldn’t stay there and be the cause of anyone else’s death. The guards, the villagers, and even Hatsuyo. Their death was all your fault, and you wouldn’t stick around to cause another.

As you neared the gates, you glanced over your shoulder to find that no one was following you. The sight gave you hope that maybe you’d done it this time. Maybe you’d actually make it out of here and back to your mother.

But then, with your fingers wrapped around the metal of the shrine gates, a firm hand gripped your bicep, causing you to stumble back.

And just like that, this attempt had been ruined, just like all the others.

It ended with you being forced onto your knees in front of the king, ordered to keep your head down to show respect to him–as if he truly deserved it.

A chuckle rumbled from his chest as he shifted in his throne, rattling the large cattle skulls littered around the steps to his seat.

“How foolish of me to think you’d finally learned your lesson,” Sukuna mused, stepping down the stairs of his throne platform. When his boots entered your line of sight, his hand grabbed onto your chin, forcing your head up. “I don’t appreciate being made to look a fool, wife.”

“You do that all on your own, husband.”

A grin twitched at the corners of his mouth as he gently tapped on the side of your cheek.

“Horrible and malevolent…” he trailed off quietly, stepping back from you. “Right?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Mm, alright. Then you can be confident and… persistent. How does that sound?”

“Sound about right.” You straightened your back to feign his description.

“Or maybe stupid and arrogant?” he added, circling you. “Seems more fitting.”

“Fitting for you, too,” you spat, head darting toward him as he entered your peripheral vision.

He laughed, “Maybe, but the difference between us is when I act stupid and arrogant, there are no repercussions because I am the king. You, however-” he paused in front of you, bending to your level. “You’re just a queen. So, when you act stupid and arrogant–well, a punishment is surely in order.”

Your jaw clenched. “I’d expect nothing less from someone as horrible and malevolent as you, Sukuna.”

He grabbed your jaw again, this time with more force.

“Good. Maybe you’re not so much stupid as you are just arrogant. But, then again, it’s your arrogance that makes you stupid.” His thumb brushed along your skin as his eyes followed the motion. “However, I admire your persistence, so for that, I will cut you a deal. If you can get through this next order without making a single sound, I’ll allow you to keep your tongue.”

Your blood went cold.

“What?”

Without taking his eyes away from you, he grabbed you with one hand and roughly ushered you up the steps to his throne before tossing you onto it. Unease, dread, and trepidation washed through you just from sitting in this seat; your body let you know just how unnatural it was for you to be there.

“You’ll sit there and not move, lest you want me to nick something I shouldn’t.”

“What are you doing?” you asked, though you weren’t sure if you really wanted to know the answer.

“Well, dear wife, we can’t have you trying to escape again,” he purred, grabbing onto your right calf, raising it to rest on his muscular thigh, almost as if he were about to help you slide into a pair of boots. But you knew that wasn’t what he was doing to you, not when you felt his finger massage the delicate skin on the back of your ankle. “I think severing this tendon should do the trick.”

A terrified sob escaped you as you thrashed around to escape his hold, which caused the glare on his face to harden even more.

“Sukuna, please-”

With one hand holding your foot against his thigh, the other grabbed onto your face.

“Remember our deal, wife. Not a sound or I’ll have your tongue, too.”

Your mouth fell open to utter another plea when his lips pressed into a flat, unmoving line. Just as his finger grazed the back of your ankle again, Sukuna clicked his tongue, watching your mouth part to let out a cry. That’s when you felt the searing pain of your tendon being severed. Instinctively, your lips parted to let out a scream, but Sukuna forced his palm over your mouth before you could.

The pain was excruciating, and you wanted nothing more than to scream out in agony, but you feared he’d take your tongue, too. So, instead, you clenched your jaw tighter as black spots started to dot the edges of your vision. Acidic bile collected in the back of your throat when you felt the second tendon being sliced in half, mixing with the blood that now coated the inside of your mouth.

You reeled forward to get away from his torment, but were ultimately caught by him. He carried you down the steps before allowing you to collapse onto the cold floor in a shivering pile.

His hand grabbed onto your jaw once more, lifting your head from the ground while his eyes danced around your face before landing on your mouth. It was slightly open now, leaking the blood that had seeped off the new wound on your tongue. You had almost bitten the entire thing off with how hard you were holding back your screams.

He brushed his thumb over the trickling blood before bringing it to his mouth, sucking off the red liquid with a satisfied smirk.

“Very good. I have to admit, I really thought you might scream, but I’m glad you didn’t. I’m sure that tongue of yours will come in handy one of these days.”

He released your face and stood to his feet above you.

“One last thing. You’ll wear your blindfold at all times from here on out. If I ever catch you without it again, I won’t hesitate to take your eyes, because, unlike you, dear wife, I don’t go back on my promises. Hopefully, you understand that now.”

You just barely recognized his words as you faded in and out of consciousness. Eventually, your cheek hit the cold floor, just in time for him to speak to one of the guards as he departed the throne room.

“Clean her up.”

|| MIS M.List || > PITIFUL >

confused by what you just read? Malevolence In Spring's Guide

a/n: ik that was like super terrible, but it gets better. and by it gets better, i mean Sukuna stops being so bad.

also, i had a couple of people ask for a tag list on the last chapter, and i don't mind doing that, but i just want to make sure you still want to be added after what you just read. i know it's dark, and i don't wanna tag you in it if you don't wanna read it anymore, which is totally understandable. don't hesitate to drop this if it's too much :) your mental health matters

that being said, the tag list is open for the next chapter

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